Delford would trump.
Delford did. ‘Oh, Lord, yes. I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but she had to know. Suicide is so goddamned selfish. And
this so close to the election.’
Whit sipped his coffee, letting Delford believe silence signaled agreement, then said, ‘We don’t know that it’s suicide, Delford.’
To their right, a blue-light bug zapper sounded a long, fuzzy trill as it dispatched some flying insect to creeper heaven.
‘Of course not. But I been in law enforcement thirty years, partner, and you’re wet behind both ears and balls. Pete Hubble
clearly looks like a suicide to me. No sign of struggle, big old boy like him. He put that gun in his own mouth.’
Whit shrugged. ‘I think I’ll wait for the autopsy to make a ruling. But I sure don’t see why he’d come home after all these
years just to kill himself. Especially after he was starting a new film project.’
‘I get it. You’re just interested in the media circus, get your name in the paper for the voters to see. I think you owe some
common sense and courtesy to Lucinda Hubble that this be handled quickly and quietly.’
‘Since Dear Abby’s not available,’ Whit said, ‘how does ramming a ruling through quickly get classified as common sense and
courtesy?’
Delford stubbed out his smoke. ‘It’s called decency. Try to add it to your vocabulary, partner. Lucinda’s done more for this
county than most people have, and she’ssuffered a lot of tragedy in her life. So show her some compassion.’
The woman has lost her son. I don’t plan on being anything but compassionate. Especially if it turns out her son’s been murdered.’
‘And you wouldn’t change your mind because she’s a Democrat and you’re a Republican?’ Whit had had to make a party affiliation
to get the appointment from the Republican-controlled county commissioners, but he felt lukewarm about allegiance to any political
party.
‘Party lines bore me, Delford.’
‘I imagine. The only party line you’re interested in is the one leading to the keg.’
Whit patted his pockets. ‘I like that one. I better write it down and note the time and date you actually attempted a joke.’
‘Listen, Whit.’ Delford lowered his voice but kept his amiable smile firmly fixed. ‘We all know you’re sort of learning as
you go, but you sure don’t want the voters to realize that you’re, shall we say, still climbing the learning curve.’
‘For all your preaching about compassion,’ Whit said, ‘I haven’t heard you show one bit of sympathy for Pete Hubble.’
‘Lucinda doesn’t deserve for that good-for-nothing son of hers to muddy her name from the grave. You’re gonna be out there
alone, Whit, looking like a fool when the police and the family – who know the truth – all say it’s suicide and you’re chasing
shadows.’
‘What is this, a good-old-boy plea to stay in step?’ Whit said.
Delford shook his head. ‘You must’ve sniffed some of that pink paint, son. I’m not pressuring you to do diddly. My judgment
is based on years of police experience. This is your first big death case, Whit. You screw it up and it’sreal public, and it’s right before the election.’ He laughed and crushed his cigarette under his boot heel. ‘And just a tip:
voters don’t vote for candidates who consort with porno queens.’
Delford went back into the police station. Whit watched the rain and finished his coffee. When he went back inside, Nelda
told him Claudia and Velvet had left not three minutes before. He drove home, devoured a ham sandwich and a bag of corn chips
while watching a
Monty Python
rerun on cable, and went to bed with his JP training materials. He read every detail on death inquest procedures.
He wondered how the voters would react if he and his brothers painted Delford’s house again.
Reading the procedures, written in law’s natively ornate style, made him drowse. His thoughts drifted to the last
Delford did. ‘Oh, Lord, yes. I hated to be the bearer of bad news, but she had to know. Suicide is so goddamned selfish. And
this so close to the election.’
Whit sipped his coffee, letting Delford believe silence signaled agreement, then said, ‘We don’t know that it’s suicide, Delford.’
To their right, a blue-light bug zapper sounded a long, fuzzy trill as it dispatched some flying insect to creeper heaven.
‘Of course not. But I been in law enforcement thirty years, partner, and you’re wet behind both ears and balls. Pete Hubble
clearly looks like a suicide to me. No sign of struggle, big old boy like him. He put that gun in his own mouth.’
Whit shrugged. ‘I think I’ll wait for the autopsy to make a ruling. But I sure don’t see why he’d come home after all these
years just to kill himself. Especially after he was starting a new film project.’
‘I get it. You’re just interested in the media circus, get your name in the paper for the voters to see. I think you owe some
common sense and courtesy to Lucinda Hubble that this be handled quickly and quietly.’
‘Since Dear Abby’s not available,’ Whit said, ‘how does ramming a ruling through quickly get classified as common sense and
courtesy?’
Delford stubbed out his smoke. ‘It’s called decency. Try to add it to your vocabulary, partner. Lucinda’s done more for this
county than most people have, and she’ssuffered a lot of tragedy in her life. So show her some compassion.’
The woman has lost her son. I don’t plan on being anything but compassionate. Especially if it turns out her son’s been murdered.’
‘And you wouldn’t change your mind because she’s a Democrat and you’re a Republican?’ Whit had had to make a party affiliation
to get the appointment from the Republican-controlled county commissioners, but he felt lukewarm about allegiance to any political
party.
‘Party lines bore me, Delford.’
‘I imagine. The only party line you’re interested in is the one leading to the keg.’
Whit patted his pockets. ‘I like that one. I better write it down and note the time and date you actually attempted a joke.’
‘Listen, Whit.’ Delford lowered his voice but kept his amiable smile firmly fixed. ‘We all know you’re sort of learning as
you go, but you sure don’t want the voters to realize that you’re, shall we say, still climbing the learning curve.’
‘For all your preaching about compassion,’ Whit said, ‘I haven’t heard you show one bit of sympathy for Pete Hubble.’
‘Lucinda doesn’t deserve for that good-for-nothing son of hers to muddy her name from the grave. You’re gonna be out there
alone, Whit, looking like a fool when the police and the family – who know the truth – all say it’s suicide and you’re chasing
shadows.’
‘What is this, a good-old-boy plea to stay in step?’ Whit said.
Delford shook his head. ‘You must’ve sniffed some of that pink paint, son. I’m not pressuring you to do diddly. My judgment
is based on years of police experience. This is your first big death case, Whit. You screw it up and it’sreal public, and it’s right before the election.’ He laughed and crushed his cigarette under his boot heel. ‘And just a tip:
voters don’t vote for candidates who consort with porno queens.’
Delford went back into the police station. Whit watched the rain and finished his coffee. When he went back inside, Nelda
told him Claudia and Velvet had left not three minutes before. He drove home, devoured a ham sandwich and a bag of corn chips
while watching a
Monty Python
rerun on cable, and went to bed with his JP training materials. He read every detail on death inquest procedures.
He wondered how the voters would react if he and his brothers painted Delford’s house again.
Reading the procedures, written in law’s natively ornate style, made him drowse. His thoughts drifted to the last
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