‘Don’t be discouraged by today.’ Brazil seemed to know what she was thinking. ‘Don’t forget, Governor Feuer was impressed. He called to congratulate you. He ought to count more than the other ones do.’
‘Aren’t we supposed to turn somewhere?’ Hammer couldn’t see a damn thing.
Brazil saw Jefferson Davis first.
‘I’m melting! I’m melting!’ Brazil mimicked the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz.
‘Well, I’ll be damned,’ West said as the statue was fully exposed by Hammer’s high beams.
She stopped her Crown Victoria and turned the police spotlight on the statue.
‘Hot dog!’ Brazil exclaimed. ‘Shit, I wish Weed could be here to see this.’
‘I don’t know,’ Hammer said thoughtfully. ‘He’d probably be disappointed.’
‘Yeah.’ Brazil reconsidered sadly. ‘I guess you’re right. Twister’s moved on.’
Jeff Davis was fast losing his newly acquired race and position on the University of Richmond Spiders basketball team. His face was streaked black, his red-and-white uniform in pools around his no-longer-Nike footwear and the orange-smeared marble base that supported him. The basketball he held in his left hand had turned back into a hat.
Car doors were opening and shutting, lights scattered with rain. Feet sloshed and sounded wetly over stone. Judge Davis was a native of New York. She walked up to the statue and looked it over carefully. She bent down and plucked a tiny Southern Cross out of the sod. She waved it from its slender stick as if trying to see how it worked or what the big fuss was all about.
‘I think it’s clear this isn’t vandalism anymore,’ Hammer announced. ‘Nor was it ever. We just thought it was.’
Sue Cheddar was under a bright pink parasol and only her long, animated nails were visible as she spoke.
‘See,’ she said as red claws flashed at Commonwealth’s Attorney Michael.
He was getting soaked and looked like a defeated Confederate soldier in his ill-fitting gray suit and skinny dark tie. His hair was plastered to his head, rain running down his tired face as he watched the president of the Confederacy lose his glory once more.
‘Point is, Weed meant to do damage,’ Michael said with no conviction. ‘Goddamn, will this rain ever stop? You ought to see my yard. The road in front, too, since the city doesn’t do a damn thing to maintain it. Water must be six inches deep.’
‘Do we have any further arguments?’ Judge Davis faced all of them as rain turned back into hail and began to click and clatter.
‘Not me,’ West said.
‘Of course not,’ said Hammer.
‘Nope,’ Brazil agreed with everyone.
‘Then I rule that the charge against Weed Gardener be dismissed,’ Judge Davis decided as a marble woman with an open Bible and an angel looked on. ‘Officer Brazil.’ She nodded at him. ‘Let’s get the paperwork. I want him released immediately.’
‘Right this minute,’ Hammer agreed. ‘Virginia, Andy? Straight to detention. We’re taking Weed home.’
Brazil cheered and put his arm around West. Chief Hammer began to clap. West did, too. Cheddar joined in, although it wasn’t possible for her hands to touch. Commonwealth’s Attorney Michael shrugged. Paperwork was completed and the six of them returned to their cars. Jefferson Davis receded into the night as the small motorcade followed Waterview through rain that no longer seemed so harsh, past monuments that did not seem quite so sad.
ALSO BY PATRICIA CORNWELL
Postmortem
Body of Evidence
All That Remains
Cruel and Unusual
“The Body Farm
From Potter’s Field
Cause of Death
Hornet’s Nest
Unnatural Exposure
Point of Origin
Scarpetta’s Winter Table
Black Notice
Non-fiction
Ruth, a Portrait: The Story of Ruth Bell Graham
The End