The Hornet’s Nest. Patricia Cornwell

“Are you all right?”

She paced.

“My husband’s at Carolinas Medical. I’m afraid he had an accident with a handgun. He

should be fine.”

Horgess immediately grabbed his upright portable radio. He ten-fived David-One unit

538, a rookie too scared to do anything other than what she was told. This decision

would have been good had Horgess not failed to overlook the reason Hammer had called

him, the duty captain, directly.

“Need you over there now to take an accidental shooting report,” Horgess excitedly said into his radio.

“Ten-four,” Unit 538 came back.

“Any injuries?” ~ “Ten-four. Subject en route to Carolinas Medical;’ Every officer on duty, and some who weren’t, and anyone else with a scanner, heard every word of the

broadcast. Most assumed Chief Hammer had been accidentally shot, meaning Jeannie

Goode this very instant was the acting chief. Nothing could have sent the force into more

of a panic. Hammer had a base radio station in her kitchen and it was on.

“Horgess, you idiot!” she exclaimed in disbelief to no one in particular, inside her

kitchen.

She stopped pacing. It struck her that Andy Brazil was still standing in the doorway. She

was not entirely sure why he was here and suddenly

doubted the wisdom of a handsome young reporter dressed like a cop being in the house with her, in the wake of a domestic shooting. Hammer also knew that her entire evening

shift was heading toward her address, flying to investigate the fate of their leader.

W Goode never kept her radio on at home or in her car, but a source had tipped her off,

and she was already putting on her uniform, preparing to take over the Charlotte Police

Department, as Unit 538 sped through Fourth Ward. Unit 538 was terrified. She worried

she might have to stop to vomit. She turned on Pine Street, and was stunned to find five

other police cars already in front of Hammer’s house, lights strobing. In Unit 538’s

rearview mirror, more cars came, miles of them, speeding through the night to help their

fallen chief.

Unit 538 parked, shakily gathered her metal clipboard, wondering if she could just leave,

and deciding probably not.

Hammer went out on the porch to reassure her people.

“Everything is under control,” she spoke to them.

“Then you’re not injured,” said a sergeant whose name she did not recall.

“My husband is injured. We don’t think it’s serious,” she said.

“So everything’s okay.”

“Man, what a scare.”

“We’re so relieved. Chief Hammer.”

“See you in the morning.” Hammer dismissed them with a wave.

That was all they needed to hear. Each officer secretly keyed his mike, broadcasting

several clicks over the air, signaling comrades everywhere that all was ten-four.

Only Unit 538 had unfinished business, and she followed Hammer into the rich, old house. They sat in the living room.

“Before you even start,” Hammer said, “I’m going to tell you how this is going to be done.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“There will be no implication that the right thing was not done here, that exceptions were

made, because the subject involved happens to be married to me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“This is routine and will be worked according to the book.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“My husband should be charged with reckless endangerment and discharging a firearm in

the city limits,” Hammer went on.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Unit 538’s handwriting was unsteady as she began filling out the accidental shooting

report. This was amazing. Hammer must not like her husband much. Hammer was

nailing him with the maximum charge, locking him up and throwing away the key. It just

proved Unit 538’s theory that women like Hammer got where they were by being

aggressive hard asses They were men poured into the wrong form at the factory.

Hammer recited all the necessary information. She answered Unit 538’s banal questions,

and got the cop out as fast as possible.

Brazil remained seated at the kitchen table in Chief Hammer’s house, wondering if

anyone might have recognized his distinctive BMW parked out front. If the cops ran his

tag, what would they think? Who was he here to see? He remembered with a sinking

feeling that the condominiums Axel and friends lived in were just around the corner.

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170 171 172 173 174 175

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *