The incendiary material would produce temperatures as high as 42,000 degrees Fahrenheit, which was less than half as hot as the surface of the sun, not hot at all compared to the eighteen million degrees at the core of the sun. Rather, he intended to burn everything to ashes and slag: the brains from the two detectives’ computers, their files and appointment calendars, and Georgie’s corpse. His intention was not to blow up the Land Rover and all of the evidence in it. The two suitcases supplied to him by Georgie Jobbs, which he had stored on the floor behind the front seats of the Rover, contained a small initial explosive charge for the purpose of ignition, but held mostly bricks of a ferociously incendiary substance developed by the weaponry wizards of the former Soviet Union, who were currently the weaponry wizards of the new Russia.īehind the wheel of the Cadillac again, Billy Pilgrim watched the dark roof of the Shumpeter house on the parallel street.
He pointed the remote control, which had plenty of range for the job, pressed the button, and heard the soft whump of the initial detonation. He got out of the Cadillac, stood on the sidewalk, and withdrew a remote control from his jacket pocket.īetween these two handsome houses, he could see the roof of the Shumpeter residence on the next street to the west. He took off the Tyrolean hat and the horn-rimmed glasses. On the street parallel to Shumpeter’s street, and behind his property, Billy parked at the curb in front of two houses where other American families were preoccupied with their own joys and problems. He put the bag on the floor, in front of the passenger seat.Īt the end of the block, he turned right, then right again at the next intersection. He left the house by the front door, walked out to the street, and got behind the wheel of the Cadillac.
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