by Arjay Lewis
I peered through the haze and didn’t see Gingold. Did he make a break for the vault and the gun? Did I dare risk a move to lock him in there with Jenny? Could I approach the blazing pot and look into that darkened chamber?
Cold, nothing but cold...
I felt the connection inside me to the cold in Scudder House and reached out my mind to the blazing pot, trying to push what was in me out toward it. The flames within it quickly lowered, and I could no longer feel the heat against the skin of my face. Then the fire flickered once and went out.
Nothing but cold...
I hopped to the door and wrenched it open, looking in. It was too dim to see inside. For a moment, I was sure I was a dead man, about to be shot by Gingold as I stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the light.
“How did you do that?” a voice behind me demanded. I whirled around to see Gingold standing near the sofa. He must have ducked behind it when he set off the pyrotechnics, knowing just how bright they would flare. Instead of a face, all I could see was the diminishing pink dot.
At least he didn’t get the gun. But how many explosives were hidden in this aerie? I needed to keep him off-balance.
“You think you’re the only one who can do things?” I said. “You’re no god of fire, just a spoiled brat with a few cheap tricks.”
Another pot on the other side of the door made a huge whoosh and fire exploded out the top of it. The room grew much hotter. There was another whoosh and another, and I could see two more of the large earthenware displays as they spewed flames and crackled gleefully.
I coughed as the room filled with smoke rapidly, and none of the windows looked as if they could open.
“You can die from smoke inhalation as easily as I can,” I bellowed, bending my good leg and lowering myself closer to the floor, my bad leg sticking straight out behind me.
“You can’t stop me!” he said, coughing. “You’re the one with tricks! Your abilities are nothing compared to mine.”
I began to think he was right. The apartment walls would catch unless he’d had the whole place fireproofed.
I saw a shadow move through the smoke and swung the head of the cane where I thought he was, but I hit an end table with a thud. It upended and spilled its meager contents.
I coughed and knew there was no way out unless I could stop the fire. I concentrated again on the cold, allowing it to fill me. Then I stood up and focused on one of the blazing pots. The flame immediately diminished, flashed once, and snuffed out.
I leaned back against what I hope was a piece of furniture. It was hard to tell in the haze. I hoped I wasn’t about to lean against one of the fern-bayonets. I felt exhausted, but there were two more of the pots. I didn’t know if I had the strength to shut them down. Maybe this was his plan, to wear me out, push me to my limits. I couldn’t even see him in the thickening smoke.
I turned and grabbed the spilled end table and moved to the pillar, upending the small round table and placing it on top of the pot, over the flame. It crackled and made noises as it started to catch, but it cut off the oxygen supply. A couple of snuffling sounds and the fire went out.
I looked at the final pot and pushed the cold out with as much force as I could. The flames danced for a moment, went down, but started to blaze up again. Then it fell away, and the pot was dark.
I grabbed the table, the legs were now warm to the touch. I carried it and put it on top of the pot I’d just extinguished, just to be sure.
The room was still filled with smoke, but it didn’t look as if the walls had caught fire or that anything else was aflame. I coughed and wiped tears from my eyes as I tried to look around the room to find him. I moved toward where I thought the vault door and Jenny waited.
“Get back!” Gingold said, emerging from the metal doorway with Jenny. He had his arm around Jenny’s neck and the small silver gun pointed to her temple. Jenny’s eyes were glassy, and she looked as if she’d just been awakened. She blinked, her eyes brimming with tears, no doubt from the smoke.
I backed away, my cane in my hand. When I fell against a wall, I felt the cold glass of a window right next to me.
“Let her go, Gingold, the police are on the way.”
“They won’t find anything except your charred remains,” he stormed, almost insanely. I think the smoke had frightened him as well. He liked to watch his destruction from a safe distance, like with Wendy and Mishan. He liked the sense of power it gave to him. Now, there was danger to himself, which he didn’t enjoy.
I raised my hand to block my eyes from him and tried to center myself. If I could cool down the entire room, that might scare him more and turn the tide.
He held the gun tightly against Jenny and yelled, “Put your hand down! I want you to meet my eyes.”
“I don’t like long looks on the first date,” I said, leaning over as a fit of coughing took me.
“Funny!” he snapped, unamused. “You’re good, the best I’ve run into. I want to find out who is more powerful. Meet my eyes, or I’ll blow the bitch away.”
“You’ll kill us both anyway,” I said and slid my cane into my right hand, still holding up my left. I was out of time, I needed a solution.
“I want to beat you first,” he said as he pushed the gun so hard against Jenny’s temple that her head lolled at an ugly angle.
“All right,” I said and dropped my hands to my sides. I raised my head and stared into his eyes.
I could see his pupils expand a little as I tried to reach in. But it was so hot.
COLD…
There wasn’t cold—there was fire everywhere—all around me, on me, burning me.
NO! IT’S ICE…
I wasn’t on fire and I fought to reach in and touch his mind.
Sweat began to pour off me, and I could feel the air becoming too hot to breathe.
“See!” he said, not breaking eye contact. “You’re nothing compared to me.” He brought the hand with the gun away from Jenny and raised it toward me.
I swung and whipped the cane up, smashing the window behind me with all of my strength. The glass spattered out, and the window collapsed as sunlight blazed into the room.
“AHHHHH!” he yelled, raising his hand with the gun to cover his eyes. Jenny, her stare gone, lifted her elbow and brought it against his ribcage with such force, the air went out of his lungs with an “Oomph!” He released his grip and she twisted out of his clumsy grip.
I hit the catch on the shaft of my cane and slid the sword free. “I’ll see you in hell,” Gingold yelled as he lunged blindly at me, giving a cry full of his hate and fury.
When he leaped at me, I thrust my arm out, and the blade plunged into his chest as I sent it home.
Blood began to pour out of his shirt, and his enraged battle yell faded into a pathetic gurgle. The gun fell from his hand as he staggered back, taking my blade with him.
He stumbled for a moment, then lost his footing and fell onto one of the fern sculptures with the full force of his weight. The other blades penetrated into him as he cried out.
The large earthenware pots burst into flames again, all of them this time. I grabbed Jenny, pulling her into the kitchen and towards the exit as the room quickly filled with a dense fog of smoke. We pushed through the door, and were out on the stairs.
She coughed, and I gasped for air.
I slammed the door closed behind us.
“We…have to…get out,” I said as I dragged her toward the stairs.
“Those pots…the flames…what was that?”
“Death throes of the god of fire,” I said as we descended, holding onto the railing and each other as we went.
twenty-two
We finally got outside and walked through the alley to the front of the building. The entire top floor was engulfed in flames, and dark smoke poured from the one window I’d smashed.
In the firehouse next door, a lot of activity had started. Men opened the large garage doors and pulled on their coats and helmets. One man ran out to the street with a rolled hose and quickly attached it to a nearby fire hydrant.
“We should get to the police,” I wheezed, my lungs aching from the smoke.
“Let me help you,” Jenny said, and I leaned on her as we walked, the staff of my cane in my hand.
We walked around the building onto Bloomdale Avenue and burst through the door to the Mountainview police station. Then both of us fell into nearby chairs.
Sergeant Williams was behind the elevated main desk, and he cried out in surprise as we entered.
“You!” he bellowed. “They told me you were under arrest!”
“There was a mistake,” I sputtered, and I rose up on the stem of my cane, now a few inches shorter due to the snake head being part of the sword in Gingold’s gullet. “Get McGee,” I said and fell into another fit of coughing.
He picked up the phone on his desk and made a quick call, several in fact, as I returned to the seat and fought to catch my breath.
Sergeant Tice arrived first. He came down the short hallway yelling, “You’re supposed to be in custody.”
I held up the wooden rod in my hand threateningly and said, “Get McGee, or I’ll give you a damn good reason to arrest me for assault.”
“Calm down!” Tice said and backed away. He knew I was serious, and although he didn’t fear me, some distance between us didn’t hurt.
At that moment, McGee strode down the hall into the lobby, took one look at me, then Jenny, and then Tice, who just shrugged.
“That bastard threatened me with his goddamn stick,” was all Tice said.
“You two look like hell, but I’m glad to see you, Mrs. Baines,” McGee said.
“What about his threat?” Tice said.
“You’re the one with the gun, Tice. You two, come with me. Len, can you walk with your cane like that?”
I rose and nodded. He led us past the short divider around the tall desk, through the electronic door with his ID and took us directly into a large conference room one door down. Using a wall phone, he immediately made a call to emergency services. Then he got us water and coffee. Jenny was still sleepy from the aftereffects of the drug.
A few minutes later, a pair of EMTs came in and checked us out. Smoke inhalation is the most common killer in a fire, and sometimes it can be sneaky, the effects coming on hours later. The two young men looked down our throats and gave us each a shot of corticosteroids. One brought a small oxygen tank and had Jenny put on a clear plastic mask and breathe as I spoke to McGee.
I quickly told him of my confrontation with John Gingold in the building right next door and even mentioned the sword from my cane.
McGee was shocked with each revelation, and even more by the fact that I’d carried a pretty dangerous weapon since the day he’d met me.
“What would you have done if I’d mentioned it?” I asked quietly as I watched the EMT with Jenny.
“I would have confiscated it, for your own protection,” McGee said.
“Then it’s a damn good thing he didn’t, Detective!” Jenny said, having overheard us.
At this, McGee smiled and nodded. “Mr. Baines is probably worried sick about both of you. But for your own safety, I want you both in the hospital for observation until you’re given a clean bill of health. Then I’ll take your official statements.”
“Detective, what is going on?” Lieutenant Butler asked as he walked into the room with Sergeant Tice.
“LT,” Tice said. “This man is still wanted for questioning by the Orange Police. He appears to have done something to the arresting officer.”
“Done something?” McGee said. “What, Tice? Pulled a rabbit out of a hat? Made magical passes in the air?”
“I don’t know, but he was wanted for questioning,” Tice persisted.
“McGee,” Lieutenant Butler demanded, “the last I knew, this man was taken for questioning by the Orange police. Now he’s here with the woman you said was a hostage?”
“Jack Hallman has already confessed to renting the office in the doctor’s name. And these two need to get to the hospital for observation.”
“Lieutenant,” Tice whined. “He threatened me! Aren’t you going to take that seriously?”
McGee’s jaw set. “They confronted the man who held Mrs. Baines against her will. I’m still sorting it all out, LT, but these two should be in a hospital. Tice, if you don’t get out of the way, I’m going to threaten you myself.”
Tice’s face turned a shade of red that quickly darkened to purple. “You can’t—”
“On my authority,” Butler ordered, pointing at me and Jenny, “get them to an ambulance, but I expect to see a report on my desk by the end of today.”
“Yes sir, thank you, sir,” McGee said.
“And Tice,” the lieutenant added as he headed for the door, “lighten up.”
Jenny and I held back our desire to laugh right in Tice’s face and followed the EMTs and McGee out of the MPD through a side door, where an emergency vehicle waited.
Bloomdale Avenue was now a flurry of activity. There were fire engines out on the street with ladders extended as men with hoses finished spraying out the last of the fire. What I could see of the top floor was blackened and slick from the water.
“He was right next door,” McGee said, shaking his head.
An EMT opened the back of their vehicle. Jenny got in, and I followed. I was forced to lean on her a bit to get my leg in. She kissed my cheek.
“What’s that for?” I asked.
“Saving my life,” she said.
We arrived at the hospital in minutes, and Jon was there to meet us, having been called by McGee. He wore an old jogging suit and picked Jenny up in his arms as she squealed in delight. Then he put her down and hugged me.
“Easy,” I said, suddenly aware of all the sore muscles from my encounter.
I was checked-in, checked out, an I/V stuck in my arm, and I lay in a bed as the concoction of drugs took effect.
I fell into a long, dreamless sleep.
epilogue
Released the next morning, Jon picked us up and took us home, where he proceeded to fuss over Jenny. I took my ruined clothes from the previous day and put them in a trash bag, then showered and got dressed in what little I had left.
“Feel better?” Jon asked as I entered the kitchen. Jon held both of Jenny’s hands, like newlyweds, and they kept exchanging glances with a look of gratitude.
“I do,” I said and turned to Jenny. “You?”
“Much better,” Jenny said.
I looked at her, and all at once, I was puzzled.
“What?” she said, noticing my stare. “Did I grow another head or something?”
“No,” I said. “You just look different.”
“I’ll say,” Jon said, giving her rear end a quick squeeze.
“Jon!” Jenny said, shocked, and then laughed. “What do you mean, I look different?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Must have just been the light,” I said as I walked over to get coffee. But she did look different, profoundly different, and yet it wasn’t in any one specific way. As I poured myself a cup, I knew what it was.
She didn’t look like Cathy.
There wasn’t any particular change in her features, hair, or body type following her adventure with Gingold. But to me, she no longer had that pull of my lost love. I could see her as she truly was, my best friend’s wife. I could care about her, love her, yet felt no desire for her.
I exhaled deeply. I’d saved her life. I’d done something right, something good, and it somehow made up for Cathy, whom I’d lost. I could be free to really love a new person, not someone who would be a substitute.
Jon
made breakfast, putting out eggs and toast, and the three of us ate and laughed.
“So, Len, what are your plans, now?” Jon asked.
I shrugged. “Guess I’ll be heading back to California. I still can work with Doctor Kohl.”
“Well, I have another idea,” Jon said. “I was talking to the dean and, well, it was actually Trisha’s idea…”
“Your assistant?” I said.
“Yeah, and let me tell you, she knows everyone. She has a lot of clout with the administration and—”
The doorbell chimed.
“Damn! Hold that thought,” Jon said and headed to the door.
One minute later, McGee walked into the room with an object wrapped in newspaper in his hands.
“Sorry to invade,” he said.
“Want some coffee?” Jenny said, getting McGee a cup.
“Sure,” McGee answered. “I assume you’re both all right? Gingold didn’t do anything to you, Mrs. Baines?”
“No, Detective,” Jon said with a smirk. “I checked—very thoroughly.”
McGee smiled and blushed a bit, which surprised the hell out of me.
“Any sign of Denise Haskell?” I asked.
“We found her in the downstairs of the warehouse.”
“Dead?” I asked, feeling the festive mood sinking.
“No, actually, she was alive. Gingold clunked her on the head and stuck her in a shipping crate. Would’ve been dead if she’d stayed there or the fire had gotten any worse. But the fire department put it out before it could spread to the rest of the building. We broke into the place and found her, got her to the hospital. I just came from talking to her.”
“Was she any help?” I said.
“Filled in a lot of the blanks. Turns out she was one of the Nova Corporation partners under her full name. She was in on the insurance scam, but didn’t know that Gingold was killing people. She thought the fires were all set. It also turns out that she was involved in a three-way relationship with Wendy and Gingold.”
“Gingold mentioned something about it,” I said.
“Well, it gets better. It turns out that all Gingold could do was watch. Major league hang-ups. He’d watch them and get himself off.”
