Hawes signaled to the waiter, and then ordered a large pizza with cheese and anchovies.
"Anything to drink?" the waiter asked.
"A draft for the lady, a Coke for me."
"Miller's or Michelob?"
"Miller's," Marie said.
The waiter went off again.
"This is really very nice of you," Marie said, and reached across the table to touch his hand briefly. A whisper touch. There, and then gone.
"As soon as we get back to the squadroom," Hawes said, "I'll call Auto again, see if they turned up anything on either of the vehicles."
He had made a call to Auto Theft from the custodian's office at the high school, reporting both the Citation and the Econoline, but he knew what the chances were of finding either vehicle tonight. He didn't want to tell her that.
"That would be a start," she said. "If they found the cars."
"Oh, sure."
A pained look crossed her face.
"I'm sure he's okay," Hawes said.
"I hope so."
"I'm sure."
He wasn't at all sure.
"I just keep thinking something terrible has happened to him. I keep thinking whoever stole the car…"
"Well, you don't know that for a fact," Hawes said.
"What do you mean?"
"Well, that the car was stolen."
"It's gone, isn't it?"
"Yes, but…"
He didn't want to tell her that maybe her husband had driven off on his own, heading for the wild blue yonder. Let the lady enjoy her pizza and her beer. If her husband had in fact abandoned her, she'd learn it soon enough. If he was lying dead in an alley someplace, she'd learn that even sooner.
He didn't bring up Jimmy Brayne again until after they'd been served.
She was digging into the pizza as if she hadn't eaten for a week. She ate the way that woman in the
"He's normally reliable, is that right?" he said.
"Who?"
"Jimmy Brayne."
"Oh, yes. Completely."
"How long has he been working for you?"
"Three months."
"Started this July?"
"Yes. We did the act at a big Republican picnic on the Fourth. That was the first time Jimmy helped us."
"Carrying the stuff over in the van…"
"Yes."
"Picking it up later."
"Yes."
"Did he know where he was supposed to pick you up tonight?"
"Oh, sure. He dropped the stuff off at the school, of course he knew."
"Helped you unload it?"
"Yes."
"When was that? What time?"
"We got there about three-fifteen."
"Drove into the city together?"
"Frank and I were following the van."
"And Jimmy left the school at what time?"
"As soon as everything was on stage."
"Which was when?"
"Three-thirty, a quarter to four?"
"And he knew he was supposed to come back at five-thirty?"
"Yes."
"Is it possible he went someplace with your husband?"
"Like where?"
"For a drink or something? While you were changing?"
"Then why was all the stuff on the sidewalk?"
"It's just that… well,
"Excuse me," the waiter said. "Officer?"
Hawes looked up.
"Officer, I hate to bother you," the waiter said.
"Yes?"
"Officer, there's somebody's arm in one of the garbage cans out back."
It was ten minutes to eight on the face of the clock on the locker-room wall.
They could have been teenagers swapping stories about their boyfriends.
Nothing in their conversation indicated they were going out hunting for a killer.
"Maybe I should've gone down later," Annie said. "The trial ended on Wednesday, I could've gone down then." She stepped into her short skirt, pulled it over her blouse and pantyhose, zipped up the side, fastened the button at the waist. "Trouble is, I wasn't sure I
"But he asked you, didn't he?" Eileen said.
"Sure, but… I don't know. I got the feeling he was just going through the motions. I'll tell you the truth, I think he wanted to go down there alone."
"What makes you think so?" Eileen asked.
She was wearing a low-cut blouse, and a wraparound skirt as short as Annie's, fastened on the right-hand side with a three-inch-long ornamental safety pin. The pin would be a last-ditch weapon if she needed it. If she needed it, she would poke out his eyes with it.
She was sitting on the bench in front of the lockers, pulling on high-heeled boots with floppy tops. A holster was strapped to her ankle inside the right boot. The pistol in the holster was a .25-caliber Astra Firecat automatic, with a two-and-a-half-inch barrel. It weighed a bit less than twelve ounces. Six-shot magazine, plus one in the firing chamber. She would pump all seven slugs into his face if she had to. There was a six-shot, .44-caliber Smith & Wesson hammerless revolver in her handbag. Plus a switchblade knife. Rambo, she thought. But it won't happen to me again. She was wearing two pairs of panties under her pantyhose. Her psychological weapons.
"I just… I don't know," Annie said. "I think Cotton's trying to end it, I just don't know."
She reached into the locker for her handbag, took out her cosmetics kit.
Eileen was standing now, looking down into the boots.
"Can you see this gun?" she asked.
