stomach was doing something strange, too. He was sweating and chilled as he stared at
her, unable to imagine what it must have been like for her children to be raised by such a
person.
“Are you all right?” Hammer thought he was acting oddly.
“I don’t know what my problem is.” He wiped his face with his hands.
“I think I’ve been trying to get sick or something. It’s none of my business, but is your
husband all right?”
“A flesh wound,” she replied, weary and depressed again as moths fluttered past, into her house, where soon they would die from pesticide.
Misfires rarely occurred with double-action revolvers. But when Hammer had demanded
that Seth return the . 38 to her, he had gotten angry and mean. He’d had enough of being
bossed around by this woman, who next would begin searching him and his bedroom.
There was no way out.
Unfortunately, she’d walked in before he’d had a chance to stash the gun in a place she
couldn’t find it. Worse, Seth had been sleeping in a drunken position that had resulted in
tingling and numbness in his right hand. When he had decided to send this same hand
down to his crotch to fish out the revolver, it had not been a wise move. It was also
Seth’s bad luck that the one time he did not want the cartridge lined up with the firing pin
was precisely then.
“His left buttock,” Hammer was explaining to Brazil, who was inside the house with her now, because she could not leave her front door open all night.
Brazil looked around at vibrant oriental rugs on polished hardwood floors, at fine oil
paintings and handsome furniture in warm fabrics and rich leathers. He was standing in
the foyer of Chief Hammer’s splendid restored home, and no one else was around. It was
just the two of them, and he began sweating profusely again. If she noticed, she did not
let on.
“They’ll X-ray, of course,” she was saying, ‘to make certain the bullet isn’t lodged close to anything important. ”
There was a dark side of +P hollowpoints, Hammer thought. The objective of their
design was for the lead projectile to expand and rip through tissue like a Roto Rooter.
Rarely did the bullets exit, and there was no telling how much lead was scattered through
Seth’s formidable lower region. Brazil was listening to all this, wondering if the chief
would ever get around to calling the police.
“Chief Hammer,” Brazil finally felt compelled to speak.
“I don’t guess you’ve called this in?”
“Oh dear.” It hadn’t even occurred to her.
“You’re absolutely right. I guess a report has to be taken.” She began pacing as the reality hit.
“Oh no, oh no. That’s all I need! So now I get to hear about this on TV, the radio. In
your paper. This is awful. Do you realize how many people will enjoy this?” She
envisioned Cahoon sitting in his crown, laughing as he read about it.
POLICE CHIEF’S HUSBAND SHOOTS SELF RUSSIAN ROULETTE SUSPECTED
No one would be fooled, not for a minute. A depressed, unemployed, obese husband in
bed with his wife’s . 38 loaded with only one cartridge? Every cop who worked for
Hammer would know that her husband had been flirting with suicide. All would know
that there were serious problems in her house. Some would even suspect that she had
shot her husband and knew exactly how to get away with it. Maybe it wasn’t his left
buttock she had been aiming at, either. Maybe he had turned around just in the nick of
time. Hammer went into the kitchen and reached for the phone.
There was simply no way she was dialing 911 and having the call broadcast to every cop,
paramedic, reporter, and person who owned a scanner in the region. She got the duty
captain on the line. It happened to be Horgess. He was fiercely loyal to his boss, but not
especially quick-thinking or known for shrewd judgment.
“Horgess,” she said.
“I need an officer over to my house ASAP to take a report. There’s been an accident.”
“Oh no!” Horgess was upset. If anything ever happened to his chief, he’d answer directly to Goode.