Victor Methos - Arsonist

“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.”

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.

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.