John Verdon - Let the Devil Sleep

“That’s fine with me. Whether my wife and son and Ms. Corazon agree is up to them.”

“It’s fine with me, too,” said Madeleine, although her tone was not very agreeable.

“I have… no objection,” said Kim uncertainly.

“Sounds like Investigator Kramden is thinking we might turn out to be suspects,” said Kyle, sounding eager for an argument.

The man withdrew a small iPod-like recording device from his pocket and studied it as though it were far more interesting than Kyle’s comment.

Gurney smiled. “I wouldn’t blame him. In arson, owners are usually prime suspects.”

“Not always,” said Kramden mildly.

“Did you get a good soil sample?” asked Gurney.

“Why do you ask?”

“Why do I ask? Because someone set fire to my barn last night, and I’d like to know whether the two hours you spent down there were productive.”

“I’d say so.” He paused. “What we need to do right now is complete these interviews.”

“In what sequence?”

Kramden blinked again. “You first.”

“I guess the rest of us should go into the den,” said Madeleine coolly, “and wait for our turns?”

“If you don’t mind.”

As Kyle and Kim were leaving the room with her, she turned in the doorway. “I assume, Investigator Kramden, that you’ll share with us at some point what, if anything, you’ve discovered about our barn?”

“We’ll share whatever we can.”

It was an answer so devoid of meaning that Gurney nearly laughed out loud. It was an answer he’d given countless times himself over the years.

“I’m delighted to hear that,” said Madeleine with a blatant lack of delight. Then she followed Kim and Kyle down the hall to the den.

Gurney stepped over to the breakfast table, sat in one of the chairs, and motioned Kramden toward one across from it.

The man laid the recorder on the table, pushed a button, sat down, and began to speak in a flat, bureaucratic voice. “Investigator Everett Kramden, Albany Regional Headquarters, BCI… Recorded interview initiated ten-seventeen A.M., March twenty-fourth, 2010… Interview subject is David Gurney… Interview location is the subject’s house in Walnut Crossing. Interview purpose is to gather information regarding a suspicious fire in a secondary structure on the Gurney property, designated as a barn, approximately two hundred yards southeast of the main house. Transcript and affidavits to follow.”

He regarded Gurney with a gaze as colorless as his tone. “At what time did you first become aware of the fire?”

“I didn’t look at the clock. I’d guess it was between eight-twenty and eight-forty.”

“Who was the first to notice it?”

“Ms. Corazon.”

“What drew her attention to it?”

“I don’t know. She looked out through these glass doors for some reason and saw the flames.”

“Do you know why she looked out to begin with?”

“No.”

“What did she do when she saw the flames?”

“Shouted something.”

“What did she shout?”

“I think ‘My God, what’s that?’ or something similar.”

“What did you do?”

“I came over from the dining table where I’d been sitting, saw the fire, rushed to the phone, called 911.”

“Did you make any other calls?”

“No.”

“Did anyone else in the house make any calls?”

“Not that I observed.”

“Then what did you do?”

“Put on my shoes, ran down to the barn.”

“In the dark?”

“Yes.”

“Alone?”

“With my son. He was right behind me.”

“The one named Kyle, who was just here?”

“Yes, my… only son.”

“What was the color of the fire?”

“Predominantly orange. Fast-burning, very hot, loud.”

“Burning mainly in one place or more than one?”

“Burning almost everywhere.”

“Did you notice if the barn windows were open or shut?”

“Open.”

“All of them?”

“I believe so.”

“Is that the way you’d left them?”

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Any unusual odors?”

“A petroleum distillate. Almost certainly gasoline.”

“You have personal experience with accelerants?”

“Prior to my NYPD Homicide assignment, I cross-trained briefly with a fire-department arson unit.”

Nearly invisible tremors in Kramden’s bleak expression seemed to register a rapid succession of unspoken thoughts.

“I assume,” Gurney went on, “that you and your sniffer dog found accelerant evidence along the inside base of the walls-as well as in your soil sample?”

“We made a thorough examination of the site.”

Gurney smiled at the nonanswer. “And you’re running your soil sample through a portable GLC in your van right now. Am I right?”

Kramden’s only reaction to this speculation was a transient bulge in his jaw muscle, followed by a short pause before his next question. “Did you make any effort to put out the fire or enter the building before the arrival of the first responders?”

“No.”

“You made no effort to remove anything of value from the building?”

“No. The fire was too intense.”

“What would you have removed if you could have?”

“Tools… an electric wood splitter… our kayaks… my wife’s bicycle… some spare furniture.”

“Was anything of value removed from the building during the month preceding the fire?”

“No.”

“Were the building and its contents insured?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of policy?”

“Homeowners.”

“I’ll need an inventory of the building’s contents, plus your policy number, broker’s name, and the insurance company’s name. Were there any recent increases in coverage?”

“No. Not unless there was an automatic inflationary adjustment that I’m not aware of.”

“Wouldn’t they notify you if there was one?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have more than one policy covering fire damage?”

“No.”

“Have you had any previous insured losses of any kind?”

Gurney thought for a moment. “A theft-insurance payment. I had a motorcycle that was stolen in the city about thirty years ago.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Are you involved in any conflicts with neighbors, relatives, business associates, anyone at all?”

“It seems that we may have a conflict that we weren’t aware of-with the firebug who tore down our No Hunting signs.”

“When were they put up?”

“My wife put them up a couple of years ago, shortly after we moved here.”

“Any other conflicts?”

It occurred to Gurney that having a step sawed out from under him and a bizarre warning whispered in his ear might be construed as evidence of a conflict. On the other hand, there was no proof that either the sabotage or the warning was meant for him personally. He cleared his throat. “No other conflicts I know of.”

“Did you leave the house at any time during the two hours preceding the discovery of the fire?”

“Yes. I went down and sat on the bench by the pond after dinner.”

“When was that?”

“I was down there right after dark, so… maybe around eight?”

“Why did you go there?”

“To sit on the bench, as I said. Relax. Unwind.”

“In the dark?”

“Yes.”

“You were upset?”

“Tired, impatient.”

“About what?”

“A private business matter.”

“Involving money?”

“Not really.”

Kramden leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on a small spot on the table. He touched it curiously with his finger. “And while you were sitting there in the dark, relaxing, did you see or hear anything?”