“You want some Perrier or something?”
She shook her head, and measured her words.
“Gay bashings. Queer killings. This came from where?” She was not on his same planet, and that was her choice.
“Oh come on.” He leaned forward, propping elbows on his rich desk.
“We all know what this is about. Men come to our city. They cut loose, give in to their perversion, think no one will be the wiser. Well, the angel of death for these sickos is swooping in.” He nodded deeply.
“Truth, justice, and the American way. God putting his foot down.”
“Synonymous,” she said.
“Huh?” He frowned in confusion.
“All are synonymous?” she said.
“Truth. Justice. American way. God putting his foot down.”
“You bet, honey.” He smiled.
“Sol, don’t call me that.” She jabbed her finger the same way she did when making points while West was driving her around the city.
“Don’t.
Not ever. ”
He settled back in his leather chair and laughed, entertained by this lady. What a trip. Thank God she had a husband to set her straight and put her where she belonged. Cahoon was willing to bet that Hammer’s man called her honey and she waited for it, apron tied in back, like Heidi, Gaboon’s first and only wife. Saturday mornings, Heidi served him breakfast in bed, providing he was in town. She continued this even now, after so many faithful years, although the effect wasn’t quite the same. What happened to the female body after it turned thirty? Men were ready and willing until death. They sat tall in the saddle, and were unaffected by gravity, and this was why it wasn’t out of the question for the male to seek out younger females, eventually.
“You understand the definition of honey?” Hammer started in on this again.
“A food for larvae. To be flattering or obsequious. Cajolery.
What you say to get your socks darned and buttons sewn on. Christ, why did I come to this city? ” She shook her head, not kidding.
“Atlanta wasn’t much better,” he reminded her.
“Certainly not Chicago, or it wouldn’t have been for long.”
“True, true.”
“What about your press conference?” He moved on to more important matters.
“I passed along a very appropriate suggestion. And what?” He shrugged thin shoulders.
“Where’s my press conference? Was it so much for me to ask? This building is a beacon bringing business to Charlotte-Mecklenburg. We need to disseminate positive information, such as our hundred and five percent clearance rate for all violent crimes last year…”
She interrupted him, because she couldn’t let this pass.
“Sol, this is not financial smoke and mirrors. You cannot manipulate the bottom line on paper and in computers and get everyone to accept it. We’re talking tangibles. Rapes, robberies, BEs, homicides, with real flesh and blood victims. You’re asking me to convince citizens that we cleared more cases than we had last year?”
“Old cases were solved, that’s why the numbers…” he started to repeat what he had been told.
Hammer was shaking her head, and Gaboon’s infamous impatience was heating up. This lady was the only one who dared talk to him in this fashion, if he didn’t include his wife and children.
“What old cases?” Hammer said.
“And going back how far? You know what this is like? It’s like some one asking me how much I make as chief of police and I say a million dollars because I’m going back ten years.”
“Apples and oranges.”
“No, no, Sol.” She was shaking her head more vigorously.
“No apples and oranges here. Oh no. This is fertilizer.”
“Judy.” He pointed a bent finger at her.
“What about the conventions that decide not to come here because of this… ?”
“Oh for God’s sake.” She waved him off and stood.
“Conventions don’t decide anything, people do, and I can’t hear anymore of this. Just let me handle things, you mind? That’s what I’m paid to do. And I’m not going to spread a lot of crap. You’ll have to get someone else to do it.” She started walking out of his office with its view.
“A hundred and five percent.” She raised her hands in exasperation.