“No,” Hammer replied.

West knew exactly what her boss was doing. Chief Hammer was an expert at playing people, dribbling the conversation in many directions, faking and passing until she saw an opening to score. West went along with it.

“Well, Chesterfield’s auxiliary police carry guns,” Bubba pointed out, swatting at flies. “I know a bunch of the guys. They work hard and really like it.”

Hammer noticed West’s suit. She stared at the black fingerprint powder on the jacket.

“How’d you get smudge on . . . ” Hammer said without finishing, laying the trap.

“I didn’t,” Bubba replied. “Actually he’s been trying to get me on, but I’d have to move to Chesterfield.”

Hammer gave him a feigned puzzled look. “Excuse me?”

“My buddy Smudge.” Then Bubba looked puzzled, too. “How’d you know about him?”

“Sorry for your inconvenience, Mr. Fluck,” Hammer said. “Why don’t you go on home and freshen up. Deputy Chief West? A word with you.”

The two women walked away from Bubba.

“That was pretty clever,” West marveled. “I guess you were referring to my jacket but made it sound like you knew about Smudge.”

“I was lucky,” Hammer said as a car pulled into the parking lot and sped toward them. “And I want him under surveillance. Now.”

Roop jumped out in such a hurry he didn’t bother turning off the engine or shutting the door.

“Chief Hammer!” he excitedly said. “I got another phone call. Same guy.”

“You sure?” Hammer asked.

“Yes!” Roop exclaimed. “The Pikes are claiming responsibility for the ATM homicide!”

31

BRAZIL HAD NEVER met Governor Feuer and it did not register that this indeed was the man walking briskly toward him and Weed on Midvale Avenue.

The man was tall and distinguished in a dark pinstripe suit. He was in a hurry and seemed very anxious about something. Brazil wiped sweat out of his eyes, his mouth so parched he could barely speak.

“Is everything all right?” Brazil asked.

“I was about to ask you that, son,” the man said.

Brazil paused as he processed the familiar voice and fit it with the face.

“Oh,” was all Brazil said.

“I seen your picture all over the place!” exclaimed Weed.

“Looks like you two have been through it,” the governor said. “What did you do to your chin?” he asked Weed.

“Cut myself shaving.”

The governor seemed to accept this.

“How on earth did you end up out here? Are you hurt? No backup? Doesn’t your radio work?” Governor Feuer asked Brazil.

“It works, sir.”

Brazil’s words were sticky, as if he had communion wafers in his mouth. His tongue got caught on every syllable. He sounded a little drunk and wondered if he was delirious. Maybe none of this was happening.

“Let’s get both of you some water and out of the sun,” the governor was saying.

Brazil was too exhausted and dehydrated to have much of an emotional reaction.

“You should know I’ve got a prisoner,” Brazil mumbled to the governor.