She picked her way around a Stanley thirty-foot heavy-duty tape measure and its Nicholas leather holder, a Makita tool holster, a McGuire-Nicholas wide saddle-leather belt, a top-grade cowhide Longhorn hammer holder, red Nicholas heavy-duty suspenders, and a foam rubber knee pad with double straps that had become separated from its mate.
West recognized top quality. She knew all the brands and how much they cost. She was curious. She was envious.
‘And you have no alarm system,’ Brazil said.
The “No Trespassing” sign and the bell in the driveway. I can hear anybody drive in.’
‘I didn’t know they used those anymore,’ Brazil said.
‘Muskrat’s Auto Rescue has a bunch of them,’ Bubba said.
‘What about your dog?’ West asked.
‘Half Shell bawls all day and night. Nobody listens to her anymore.’
‘So Half Shell and the gas-station bell were your only alarm system?’ West gave him a skeptical look.
Bubba could tell she wasn’t impressed with him. He was suddenly conscious of how pretty she was. Bubba felt fat, dirty, unattractive and inferior. He felt the way he had most of his life. Deputy Chief West saw through his guns and tools and home repairs. She saw Bubba as a persecuted little boy with an awful name and a world that ridiculed him. Bubba could see it in her eyes. It suddenly occurred to him that she might have gone to school with him.
‘Are you from around here?’ he asked her.
‘No,’ she said.
‘You sure?’
‘What do you mean, am I sure?’
He was paranoid and obsessed. He had to be convinced.
‘So you’re not from Richmond,’ he said.
‘No.’ She was getting curt with him.
‘It’s just that you look like someone I went to school with whose name was Virginia,’ Bubba lied.
‘We didn’t go to school together,’ West told him.
‘Did the burglar or burglars urinate in here?’ Brazil asked.
‘Yes.’ Bubba pointed. ‘Does that mean something?’
‘Oftentimes burglars urinate or defecate in the place they’ve broken into,’ West explained. ‘It’s part of an MO, and may or may not matter.’
Brazil made a note of it.
The sort of thing your police computer might have picked up on if it didn’t have the fish virus,’ Bubba said. ‘I heard about it on the news when I was driving home. So you won’t be able to check for a pattern.’
‘Don’t you even worry about it.’ Brazil avoided the subject. ‘You got a list of the guns and their serial numbers?’
‘I got them all at Green Top,’ Bubba said. ‘Never buy guns anywhere else.’
‘That helps,’ Brazil said. ‘But I want to list on the report what’s missing so the detective can follow up.’
‘I guess you won’t be able to use the computer to see if someone else got broken into like this,’ Bubba said, disappointed. ‘Because of the fish problem.’
‘Don’t worry about how we do our jobs,’ Brazil told him. ‘Now, about the list.’
‘One Browning Buck Mark Bullseye.22,’ Bubba recalled, ‘a Taurus eight-shot M608.357, Smith and Wesson Model 457 alloy frame.45 ACP and its Bianchi Avenger holster, a Pachmayr pocket cleaning kit, a mini-Clock G26 nine-millimeter with night sights, Sig P226 nine by nineteen millimeter, same thing used by Navy SEALs. Let’s see. What else?’
‘Jesus,’ West said.
Brazil was writing at top speed.
‘A Daisy Model 91 Match pistol, air gun, in other words. Ruger Blackhawk.357 revolver, and a couple Ruger competition handguns.’
‘Are you a competition shooter?’ West asked.
‘Haven’t had time,’ Bubba said.
‘Is that it?’ Brazil asked.
‘I just got a M9 Special Edition nine mil, fifteen-round clips, still in the box. It makes me sick. I never even got to try it out. And I had a bunch of speed loaders and about twenty boxes of cartridges. Most of them Winchester Silvertips.’
‘What about anything else?’ West asked.
‘It’s hard to tell,’ Bubba said. ‘But the only other thing I’m not seeing anywhere is my Stanley tool belt. It’s really nice. Black nylon with a padded yellow belt, lightweight and not as hot as leather. Can fit everything but the kitchen sink.’
‘I’ve always wanted one of those,’ West confessed. They cost about sixty bucks.’