“Anybody know how many big cities there were back then?” challenged Reverend Jackson.

“Anybody know what she just said?” Mayor Lamb whispered in Hammer’s ear.

“At least thirty-five,” offered publisher Eaton.

“Closer to forty. South Dakota entered the union in 1859,” Lieutenant Governor Miller quietly corrected the mayor.

“I’d like to finish what I was saying,” Hammer pushed forward. “The important point is that a painted statue is not the worst crime that’s ever happened here.” She looked pointedly at Ehrhart. “It might be a better idea to focus on gangs and escalating juvenile crime, and on the community’s refusal to participate in protecting and taking care of itself. Which is what brought me here to begin with.”

“Why did you thinking were in here there morning if not to participate?” Ehrhart said with emotion. “And for the records, it’s never been my believe we needed Charlotte to telling us how to ruin our police department and our city.”

“Well, they’re sure as hell running things a whole lot better than we are,” commented NationsBank president Albright, who had worked out of the headquarters in Charlotte before transferring to Richmond.

“We’re not here today to talk about Charlotte,” the mayor irritably said.

“Nothing wrong with learning from somebody else,” said the lieutenant governor.

“I suggest the Blue Ribbon Crime Commission pave the way, Lelia,” Hammer said to Ehrhart, who was looking at her gold and diamond Rolex watch and getting anxious. “You’re in a strong position to mobilize citizens and state and city officials. You have a voice.”

“It’s the responsible police, not the citizens what do away with crime. You already know the commission’s subscription. We need to hire another additional more one hundred officers. We need more patrols on feet. Police officers should be forced even if they don’t want to, to live with the city and carry there police cars home so there’s more in our neighborhoods to be visible.”

“Who’s going to pay for all that?” the mayor wanted to know. “You never have explained that part, Lelia.”

Hammer’s flip phone vibrated. She absented herself from the gathering umbrage at the conference table and went out the door.

“Chief?” West’s voice came over the cell.

“Now’s not a good time,” Hammer said.

“I’m at 6807 Midlothian Turnpike,” West said. “I think you’d better come.”

The handcuffs around Bubba’s wrists had been snapped on with contempt and no nonsense. Steel teeth bit into his soft flesh. The air conditioning inside the patrol car was up too high and Bubba’s cranky bowel syndrome had rumbled out of remission.

Bubba had always known it was risky to tuck his Anaconda .44 under the seat, but he had never imagined he might get into this much trouble. Police were everywhere, some of them detectives. Moments ago, two fire trucks and an ambulance had screamed past, heading around to the back of Kmart. The media was rolling in and a helicopter was circling the area.

Officer Budget was standing outside the car talking to the woman deputy chief who had come to Bubba’s house after the break-in. He recalled her name was West. She kept glancing in at Bubba, her face hard, eyes sharp with anger that Bubba was certain was directed at him, although he didn’t know why. He didn’t understand why the cops had wanted his filthy tee shirt.