Arsonist

by Victor Methos

  “I didn’t let you see me,” he said, seemingly reading her thoughts.

  “Why did you choose me?”

  He spun the hourglass on the side table and stood up. “The book you were reading. Dostoevsky. It’s my favorite book.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. She felt her entire body convulse in fear and disgust. “I’ll be back before morning.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “To paint the town red. Don’t wait up.”

  CHAPTER 24

  Stanton finished his afternoon surfing early and then headed inside for a quick shave and shower. By the time he’d chosen what to wear and groomed his hair, it was already six in the evening. He headed out the door and saw his neighbor trying to unlock her door while holding a bag of groceries and he went and held the bag as she opened the door.

  “Thanks, Jon.”

  “It’s okay. How’s your cat?”

  “Vet said it was just a fever. He’s doing okay now. Thanks for asking. Um, do you want to come in for some juice or something?”

  “Thanks, Cindy, no, I’ve…I’ve actually got a date.”

  “Really? Who’s the lucky gal that got you out of your apartment for once?”

  “You wouldn’t know her. She’s a professor of chemistry.”

  “Well stop by and tell me all about it if it’s not too late.”

  “I’ll try. I better go. I’ll see ya.”

  “I’m not kidding, Jon, you come tell me everything that happens. I’ve got female intuition.”

  “Bye Cindy.”

  “Bye.”

  The freeway was at a near standstill with an accident but as the sun was going down it painted the sky in vivid gold. Stanton turned his radio off and watched the sunset for as long as he could. Once he got past the accident, he sped down to Roosevelt and got off near the Pacific Coast Highway. There was a restaurant there right on the beach in between Los Angeles and San Diego. It was a little-known spot, mostly populated by locals. They didn’t advertise and you couldn’t find them online. The only way to reserve a table was through word of mouth. This gave it an air of exclusivity and only added to its draw.

  Stanton had discovered it with Melissa, his ex-wife. They had been surfing all day in Malibu and were starving on the drive back and needed to stop somewhere when Mel pointed to the oddly spiral-roofed building and said they should stop there.

  The memory of it seared him and he wished he’d made a reservation somewhere else.

  He walked into the restaurant and saw Emma waiting for him near the hostess, chatting with her about an odd ring she had on her finger. Stanton came up behind her and waited politely until she was finished speaking.

  “Oh, hey,” Emma said, feeling his presence behind her.

  “Hey. You didn’t wait long I hope.”

  “No, not at all. You ready to sit? I’m starving.”

  “Sure.”

  The hostess led them to a table next to one of the massive windows overlooking the sea. The lighting from the restaurant lit up the beach enough that you could see the waves lap the shore in thick white foam.

  “I’ve never heard of this place,” she said, as a waiter placed water down for them.

  “It’s kinda hidden away. The owner’s a real estate investor or something along those lines. Developer or something. He doesn’t need the income from this place so he told me once he can afford to keep it pure. It’s strictly a place that people are referred to by other people. No advertising at all.”

  “How’d you hear about it?”

  “I was driving by once and stopped here.”

  “With your ex?”

  “That obvious?”

  “You cringed a little when you thought about it. How long you been divorced?”

  “Going on four years now.”

  “Does it get easier?”

  “I guess so. I miss my kids a lot. They have a stepfather now and I think they’re forgetting about me.”

  “They’re young, I’m guessing. Young kids do that. When they get older they’ll change. There’s something about blood that just has a draw. People’s fathers could be the worst sons of bitches on the planet but to their kids they’re still larger than life. That’s just how it is I think.”

  “They’re good kids. I figure if I leave them alone and not push it too hard they’ll come around. What about you? Any kids?”

  “Oh, no. I’ve never even really been in a serious relationship. Well, once in college I dated a guy, a football player, for like three months but he turned out to be an asshole. He thought it was cool to date a virgin nerd and see if he could be the first.”

  “Was he?”

  “Of course not. He kept trying to get me drunk and after some time I figured out what he was doing. So I broke it off with him. Just haven’t found anyone interesting since. Until I met you,” she said, blushing slightly.

  “Why would you say that? I’m actually pretty boring.”

  “No, I don’t think so. There’s something about you. Something kinda dark. Maybe dark’s not the right word. Mysterious, enigmatic. I don’t know what it is but it forced me to say yes when you asked me out.”

  “Well, Professor, I think you’re going to be sorely disappointed. Other than surfing, I sit home and watch reruns of Battlestar Galactica.”

  “Oh my crap. I love Battlestar Galactica.”

  “Really? Well I have the DVD collection as well as a rare director’s cut from one of the episodes in the second season. It’s really hard to get.”

  “Do you think—”

  The waiter interrupted and asked if they were ready to order. Stanton knew what he wanted and ordered and Emma had to take a moment before deciding on the lobster with clam chowder as an appetizer. When the waiter had left, she took a sip of her water and excused herself to the bathroom.

  Stanton looked out the window to the ocean and saw a couple walking by holding hands. They were barefoot and kicking sand up with each step. He turned away from the window and checked his cell phone. There was a text from Gunn:

  did you see the report from Benny about the Brichard house???

  Stanton opened his emails in another window. The report was sent as a PDF attached to an email sent from one of the administrative assistants to Robbery-Homicide. He opened the PDF. After reading the first paragraph, he closed the email and called Benny’s cell phone.

  “This is Benny.”

  “What do you mean it’s not arson?”

  “Who is this?”

  “It’s Jon Stanton and I’m not in the mood for games. What do you mean it’s not arson?”

  “If you read the report you know what I mean.”

  “It was clearly arson. The family was bound up in the living room.”

  “I read your report. That wasn’t a chain. We had it tested. It was pipe from the heating ducts in the ceiling. They fell when the roof collapsed on that section of the house and when it melted it looked like chain. It wasn’t. And we didn’t find any remnants of rope or anything like that.”

  “There wouldn’t be any remnants, Benny. That fire turned their bones to ash.”

  “There was still fragments of bones left.”

  “How’d it get so hot?”

  “That I don’t know. I traced the fire to an electrical wire behind the dishwasher in the kitchen. Fire spread to the living room and the bedrooms next. They were all in the living room when the fire cut off their escape. They probably just cuddled together. That’s what people sometimes do in a fire.”

  “There were windows in the living room, they would’ve jumped.”

  “People don’t think clearly in fire. They do things they wouldn’t normally do. Who knows what they were thinking?”

  “You don’t have kids. You don’t know what you think. He would have thrown his kids out the window, I promise you he would’ve.”

  “It’s all conjecture, Detective. You got my report. You got a problem with it, hire your professor like you did last time.”

&
nbsp; Stanton was silent a moment. “You son of a bitch. That’s what this is about? Your ego? What are you, six years old? Are your feelings hurt that I consulted someone else?”

  “Fuck you, Jon.”

  The phone clicked and the call ended. Stanton dialed again but it went to voicemail. He put his phone away. The way the family was gathered in the living room was not chance. It wasn’t a protective instinct to block themselves momentarily from the fire; they were forced into that position. Stanton knew it. He just knew it.

  “Who was that?” Emma asked as she sat back down.

  “Benny. That case I asked for your help on, he thinks it wasn’t arson.”

  She didn’t respond but instead took a sip of water and then waited for him to continue.

  “Emma, he doesn’t think it was arson.”

  “I heard you.”

  “You don’t care?”

  “Why would I care?”

  “Because it clearly was. Someone’s going to stay out there because Benny determined this was an accident.”

  “No system’s perfect.”

  “You really don’t care?”

  “Not one bit.”

  “This guy probably killed an entire family. You’re okay with that?”

  “Of course I’m not okay with that but I’m also not a superhero.”

  “Help me on this, Emma. There’s no way this was an accident.”

  “I told you, I don’t work for law enforcement. That was one time just because an innocent kid was going to get railroaded.”

  “What about this family? They don’t deserve your work because a cop happens to be investigating their case?”

  “You’re making me uncomfortable, Jon. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

  “Well too bad,” Stanton said loudly. “A family gets burned to death and you’re going to play politics with me?”

  She folded her napkin and placed it on the table before rising. “Call me when you’ve calmed down.”

  She left the restaurant, leaving Stanton sitting there, staring at her as she walked across the street, the cell phone to her ear as she called someone to pick her up. The waiter came over and asked if he needed anything. He said no and stood, placed some cash down, and went to his car and sat in the parking lot. He thought about chasing her down but it wouldn’t do any good. He was thrown off kilter, as if someone had replaced his guts with lead weights and they bogged him down. He felt confused and angry and knew he wasn’t in any shape to speak to anybody.

  Stanton sat in his car and watched her until the cab pulled to the curb and picked her up. Then he started the car, and headed home.

  CHAPTER 25

  There was a knock on Stanton’s door and he grabbed his firearm and sat up in bed. The pounding would stop for ten or twenty seconds and then start again. Stanton rose and went to the door. He looked out and saw Gunn standing with a pizza in his hand. Stanton opened the door, placing his gun on a side table by the door.

  “What are you doing here? It’s ten.”

  “Not yet it’s not. You eaten?”

  “Yes.”

  Gunn pushed his way in, placing the pizza box on the kitchen table. “Have a slice with me anyway. I haven’t had dinner.”

  Stanton got out two plates and two cans of soda and sat down across from Gunn as he furiously shoved a molten-hot slice of pizza in his mouth. It burned his tongue and he swore and popped open the soda, gulping half of it.

  “My fucking bowels,” Gunn said. “I told you this undercover shit messes with me.”

  “How long were you there?”

  “Since this morning.” Gunn took out his iPhone and pulled up a document. “Guy’s name is Henry Wenchowski. Polish, immigrated here ‘bout thirty years ago. Married sixteen years ago, two kids. Not so much as a fucking parking ticket on his record.”

  “You wouldn’t have come over here if you didn’t have anything,” Stanton said, taking a slice of pizza and placing it on his plate.

  “You know me well.”

  “What’d you find?”

  “Got ahold of his credit card statement. Had to sift through the fucker’s garbage. See, he came out like two hours before the rest of the family was even up and threw away a little plastic sack so I checked it out. It was full of condom wrappers, cigarette packages, beer cans, and this receipt.”

  He pulled it out of his pocket and put it on the table. Stanton picked it up with a napkin and placed it on the back of the pizza box. It was to the Playland bar.

  “He’s our fucking guy,” Gunn said with a mouthful of pizza.

  “Who do you have on him now?”

  “What’d ya mean who do I have on him? No one, it was just me.”

  “You left him alone on a Saturday night?”

  Gunn chewed his pizza and shrugged. “Yeah, so?”

  “Stephen, he’s a predator. These guys are on cycles. If his cycle’s up and he’s out hunting…”

  “Now? No way. What are the odds of that happening?”

  “We need to go to the house and arrest him now.”

  “With a fucking receipt?”

  “I can get an ID from the manager too. That’ll give us enough for a warrant. Guys like him will always have little trophies in their house. One of Cisneros’ rings or some photos.”

  Gunn finished his soda, wiped his hands with a napkin and let out a large belch. “If you say so. It’s your call, but if we blow our wad too early and he walks, you’re gettin’ the shit from Childs not me.”

  “Let me get dressed.”

  Stanton was dressed and they were out the door in less than five minutes. They took Gunn’s car, as it was parked illegally at the curb. The night air was cool and Stanton rolled down his window and stared at the lights passing by outside. They were in the heart of the city now, the part that few outsiders ever saw. Men were on some corners and scantily dressed women on others. Many of the women were nearly nude, some of them with little more than lingerie. At a stoplight, one of the girls approached the car from the passenger side.

  “You lookin’ for a party, baby?”

  Stanton held up his badge. The girl glanced around, as if confused, and then went back to the corner.

  “Why you gotta do that?” Gunn said as the light turned and he raced through it.

  “Do what?”

  “They’re just working girls. Why you gotta scare the shit outta them like that? Just say no thank you and move on.”

  “It’s easier just to show the badge.”

  “You never worked Vice. See I worked Vice a long time. Them girls, most of ‘em are victims. They got some pimp somewhere beating their asses every night, rapin’ ‘em, threatening their kids. They got hard enough lives without us bein’ assholes too.”

  “I think that’s the only time I’ve ever heard you actually have compassion. I’m impressed.”

  “Don’t get all queer on me, just be nicer to the street girls.”

  The home was dark and quiet. One light was on upstairs as Gunn parked the car at the curb on the opposite side of the street. Stanton kept his eyes on the lighted room. The blinds were left open. He could see a young girl getting dressed and her mother brushing her hair.

  “She’s a little young to be up this late,” Stanton said.

  “Every family’s different. My folks didn’t give a shit when I went to bed.”

  Just then a man in a button-down plaid shirt and slacks came into the girl’s room. He spoke to the mother a long while and then tucked the girl into bed and kissed her goodnight. The adults left the room together and turned off the lights.

  “All’s good here,” Gunn said. “Can we go now?”

  “Henry had his hair done. Let’s wait a minute.”

  Gunn sighed but didn’t say anything. He ruffled through some papers and magazines in the backseat and came out with a Sports Illustrated. He read silently by the light of the streetlamps while Stanton kept his eyes on the house. A few lights went on and off minutes later. He saw the wife in
a bathrobe go into a bathroom. The man came to the door and said a few things before grabbing his keys in the kitchen and disappearing from view around a corner.

  “You ever smoked weed, Jon? I mean as like a kid ‘cause I know you got the Bible up your ass right now.”

  “No.”

  “I think you would really like weed. It would mellow you out. Hey, so I’m going skydivin’ tomorrow. You in?”

  “I’ve never been.”

  “What better time to go? I know you love surfin’ but wait until you get up in the air. I got my instructor’s certificate so you can just tandem with me. Come on, I’m not takin’ no for an answer.”

  “Do we have to spend money?”

  “What the fuck kinda question is that? Why do you have to be so weird all the time?”

  “It’s the Sabbath. I’m not spending money on the Sabbath.”

  “Holy shit. All right, Jon Stanton, I swear to you that you will not have to spend any money tomorrow on a Sunday. Ever. I however am going to get drunk after the jump and get into some pussy.”

  “You’re a true gentleman. Hey, there he is.”

  Henry’s garage opened and his car turned on, the brake lights lighting up the dark a deep red. The car, a Subaru, pulled out of the driveway and onto the street. Stanton instinctively ducked down as Gunn did the same, bringing up the magazine over his face as if that would help.

  Gunn turned the car on a few moments later and they flipped around. Stanton could see the Subaru up ahead. It turned right at an intersection after coming to a complete stop. Gunn sped up and kept close, running lights and stop signs to keep up.

  The Subaru stopped at a gas station and Gunn parked across the street. Henry leaned against the door of his car as he filled his tank with gas.

  “Weird lookin’ fucker,” Gunn said.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know, just looks weird.”

  “You’re just sayin’ that now ‘cause of what you know. Otherwise you wouldn’t notice him if you walked past him.”

  “He doesn’t look gay.”

  “What does someone gay look like?”