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“What did you say?”
Locket smiled sadly. “I said that being a head high troll under the Bridge to Nowhere did not exactly carry a lot of weight in the real world.”
“You heard about Hawk?”
Her nostrils flared. “I never, ever would have called that one.”
“Think he’s the one behind the murders and the fires?”
She considered it. “Before he blew up a jet, I wouldn’t have thought so, no. But now?”
“Well, he was in federal custody last night, so we know for sure that he was not involved in Anna’s death. Do you have any idea who might want to kill her or why?”
Locket gazed at me evenly. “Absolutely no one comes to mind. But you might ask the new head high troll of the south embankment. I know Anna was going to talk to him about the killings after she left me.”
After asking her to call me if she heard anything—rumor or solid—about this latest murder below the Bridge to Nowhere, I followed her advice. I climbed down the north embankment and up the other side to Sean Brundage’s hovel.
It was larger and more complex than it had been the other day, with tarps held up by pieces of rebar, concrete chunks, and wire. The new head high troll of the south was standing in front of it, arms crossed, glaring at Detective Tommy Hayes.
“Sean,” I said.
Brundage snarled, “This sad excuse for a cop thinks I’m involved in something nefarious. Who’s he think I killed, Cross?”
“Anna Bananas.”
The former cop’s shoulders sagged as he glanced at me. “Damn. Poor Anna.”
“I know,” I said.
“He’s the big man here now, Cross,” Hayes said. “He knows what went down.”
“Violence breeds violence in places like this,” Brundage retorted. “It’s a function of people having no money and no home.”
“You would know,” Hayes said.
“When did you see Anna last, Sean?” I asked.
“Yesterday afternoon, about three?” the former cop said. “She came up all upset about the homeless folks dying, wanted to know what I was going to do about it. I told her I wasn’t a detective anymore.”
“Got that right,” Hayes said.
Brundage ignored him. “I said that I was cooperating with the police, telling them what I knew, which wasn’t much.”
Hayes sighed, obviously not believing a word.
I said, “And then?”
Brundage said, “She left to get her kids from school.”
“You heard about Hawk?”
When Brundage shook his head, I told him about the incident at the FBO at Dulles the day before. His eyes widened.
“No way,” he said. “I mean, Hawk was always kind of stable, you know? If anyone was going to flip like that at Dulles, I figured it would be Bing Bang.”
Hayes said, “Who’s Bing Bang?”
I frowned. “Colin O’Hare? Why would you say that, Sean?”
