‘. the shocking revelation in this night’s tragedy is that the victim is believed to be Senator Ken Burton. ”
Hammer turned to stone, riveted to the TV. Seth sat straight up in bed, startled.
“My God,” Seth exclaimed.
“We just had drinks with him last month.”
“Shhhhhhhhh,” Hammer silenced her self-destructive husband.
‘. once again, the peculiar symbol of an hourglass was spray-painted on the body. Burton was believed to have been shot at close range with a high-velocity hollowpoint ammunition known as Silvertips. ”
Hammer snatched up the portable phone from the table by Seth’s bed, where there were three Miller Lite cans and a glass of what looked like bourbon.
“Where’s my .38?” she said to him as she dialed.
“Got no idea.” He could feel the revolver between his legs, which was not an ideal place for it. But it had rearranged itself when he had fallen asleep.
“Sources say his briefcase, tote bag and suit bag were rifled through inside the rental Maxima. Butler had picked up the Thrifty rental car at five-fifteen this afternoon. His money was gone, except for bloody change found under his body. Blood money, as the Black Widow claims number five. ” Webb’s voice lowered, resonating tragic irony.
Brazil was getting his fix of press room sound and fury, and therefore was not at his desk to receive Hammer’s call. He watched thousands of newspapers speeding on a conveyor belt. His front page headline was an inch high and blurred, but he could still read it from where he stood.
BLOODY MONEY BLACK WIDOW CLAIMS NUMBER FIVE
He couldn’t quite make out his byline, but he knew it was there.
Workers dozed in chairs, waiting for technical problems. Brazil watched one-ton newsprint reels eerily floating up from underground, carried slowly along tracks past barrels of liquid alum, and vats of yellow, red, blue and black ink. Metal clanked as dollies carried newsprint that reminded him of giant rolls of toilet paper. He wandered to the mail room, staring at palates of bundled papers, listening to the loud click-clicking of the Muller Martini machine feeding inserts into papers as a belt carried them into the counting machine. His enthusiasm had left him, for some reason. He felt listless. He was restless, nocturnal again, and still sort of offline in a way he did not understand.
It was a sweet-sick feeling. His heart was heavy and ached, and when he thought of that beefcake paramedic winking at West and looking at Hammer with lust in his eyes, Brazil felt a tightness and a rage. He felt fright. He experienced the same weak, chilly sensation he associated with barely escaping a car accident or almost losing a tennis match. Was it possible either woman might like Raines, that meatloaf of a paramedic who had to have a meager mental bank account to spend so much time working out? Of late, Brazil recently had caught the rumors about Hammer’s pitiful marriage to a fat guy who was unemployed. A dynamic woman like her would have needs and urges. How did Brazil know that she might not go for it, and decide to meet Raines somewhere?
It was important for Brazil’s peace of mind and spiritual development that he know Hammer had, in fact, driven straight home. He could not trust her unless he knew, with certainty, that she would not betray him and the world by stooping so low as to sneak around with Denny Raines. Brazil drove quickly through Fourth Ward. He was stunned to see an ambulance parked in front of Hammer’s house, and her dark blue police car gleaming in the driveway. Brazil’s heart was boxing his ribs as he parked some distance away, staring in horror and disbelief.
How in God’s name could she be so blatant?
A madness invaded Brazil’s otherwise sound mind. He got out of his BMW and strode toward the house of the woman he worshiped but no longer respected or would ever speak to or think of or wonder about again. He would air his righteous thoughts, but there would be no violence unless Raines started it. If so, Brazil would sock him to Oz, ace him, smash him. He tried not to think about Raines’s size, or that the paramedic did not appear to be scared of much. Brazil was having second thoughts when Hammer’s front door opened.