Clive Cussler - Pirate

Before Remi had a chance to comment, Sam asked, “And this other expert?”

“Malcolm Swift. Knowledgeable, to be sure. Just lacking that obscure knowledge that Percy always seemed to have a handle on. I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend either. Being a bit prejudiced in his favor, I invited Percy to join us so that you could meet him yourself. Knowing Percy, I probably should have had someone pick him up. Like I said, his memory is getting a bit spotty.”

He looked at his watch, then took out his cell phone. “I’ll ring up his wife. He was supposed to meet her first, then walk over here after.” He made the call. “Agatha? It’s Cedric. Any chance Percy’s still there…? I see. What sort of problem…?” His brows went up as he listened. “No. We can drop by… It’s no trouble… Yes. I’ll ring you up as soon as I get there.”

He disconnected, his expression one of concern. “Apparently he left a message for his wife that he’ll have to reschedule. Bit of a problem.”

“What sort of problem?” Sam asked.

“That’s just it. He didn’t say. She hasn’t been able to get ahold of him since. Doesn’t answer his mobile or his texts.”

“We have a car,” Sam replied. “We’d be glad to give you a lift.”

“Brilliant. Thank you.”

Percy Wendorf lived about ten minutes from the university. Professor Aldridge, sitting in the backseat, leaned toward the center, pointing. “Just up there. Next turn.”

But when they arrived, a uniformed officer stood at the intersection. “Sorry. Road’s closed,” he told Sam through the open window. Unfortunately, the road curved, and they couldn’t see a thing except a thick cloud of black smoke swirling up above the rooftops before disappearing into the dark clouds that threatened more rain.

“What’s going on?”

“House fire.”

“We’re trying to get ahold of a friend who lives there. Can you tell us how long?”

“No idea. Once they have it under control, they’ll open up again.”

Which told them nothing. He looked back at the professor. “Sorry. I guess this is the best I can do.”

“There’s a footpath through the park that should get us closer. I doubt they’ll have it closed off. And if they do, we can at least see what’s going on from up there.” He directed them to the next street up the hill, where they eventually took a paved footpath between two cottages that allowed the area residents access to a small playground situated across the street from Percy’s house — which happened to be the one burning. A number of residents had gathered in the park to watch the firefighters in action, and the three joined them. The house, a two-story brick structure, appeared relatively intact from the outside, the rising smoke lighter than it had been when they first arrived. Remi hoped the fire was out.

A tall, bald-headed man with wire-rimmed spectacles stood off to one side, alone, watching the firefighters. Aldridge pointed. “That’s Percy.”

Sam checked the neighborhood for any sign of Fisk and his men. Only then did he let the others cross over to talk to Percy Wendorf. The man stood, transfixed, as the firefighters traipsed through his yard, dragging their heavy hoses back to their firetrucks. “My pansies…”

Professor Aldridge clasped his hand on Percy’s shoulder. “Flowers will grow back. At least your house is still there.”

“I suppose.” He turned toward them, eyeing Sam and Remi.

Aldridge introduced them and Sam shook hands with him, saying, “Wish we were meeting under better circumstances.”

“Agreed.” Percy gave a tired sigh. “Though they tell me it’s mostly contained to the kitchen and front parlor.”

Sam watched the firefighters rolling up their hoses. “Did they give any indication on what started it?”

“It just blew up. Flames shot out. Lucky I wasn’t any closer.”

After several minutes, one of the firefighters walked over. “Mr. Wendorf?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll be finished shortly. A bit of a mess in there. Water and such. Do you have insurance?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Give them a ring. They can recommend who to send for cleanup.”

“Very good.” He stared at his home, clearly still in shock.

Sam, realizing that Percy wasn’t in any frame of mind to ask any important questions, stepped forward to address the firefighter. “Sorry to interrupt, but do you have any idea how the fire started?”

“From what he described when we got here, it looks like a chimney fire. Creosote buildup.”

“You’re certain?”

The man removed his helmet and then pushed back his hood, running his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. “Quite.”

Definitely good news — as long as they overlooked the damage to his home. Even so, Sam wasn’t about to dismiss any involvement from Avery or his men until he saw the evidence himself.

When they finally allowed Percy and the others into his home, Percy stood speechless, eyeing what was left of his parlor. The heavy scent of smoke hung in the air, and Professor Aldridge started opening windows. Sam walked over to the hearth, his feet sloshing in the wet, gray sludge on the floor. The initial burn marks appeared just outside the hearth, the stones blackened, the wooden floor adjacent to it charred. All that remained of an oriental rug was a dark, soggy mess beneath a charred upholstered chair, which sat several feet away from the hearth.

The fireman was right, Sam realized. It appeared to have started at the fireplace and worked its way into the room from there. Though possible, he didn’t think Avery’s men would take such care in an arson to make it look as if it were the result of an accident.

“Sam?” Remi stood in the arched doorway that led to the dining room. “There’s a to-do list,” she said quietly, “on the table. The first thing on there is to call the chimney sweep.”

“That seems to be the clincher. Accident over arson.”

“We can all breathe a bit easier.”

“Except for the part about Nigel still being missing.”

Remi glanced at Percy, who stood looking around at the fire damage, refusing to leave when Professor Aldridge tried to lead him from the room toward Sam and Remi. “If we’re going to ask him to help, he certainly can’t stay here,” Remi said.

“No,” Sam replied. “We could put him and his wife up at our hotel. At least until this place is cleaned.”

They posed the idea to Aldridge, who immediately declined the offer. “As generous as it is, I’m not sure that’s the best course of action for him.”

Before he had a chance to explain, a woman, mid-sixties, walked into the house, then stopped just a few feet in as she looked around. Undoubtedly Percy’s wife, Agatha. “Oh no…” She held her hand to her mouth as she took in the damage. “Percy. You didn’t light a fire, did you?”

“Of course I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I left a note to call the chimney sweep. I told—” She gave a deep sigh. “Never mind,” she said, her gaze lighting on Sam, Remi, then Professor Aldridge. “I see you have guests.” She walked over, took Percy by the arm, and Sam was certain the sparkle in her eyes was from being near tears. “Let’s all go into the kitchen where it’s cleaner, shall we?”

“Yes,” Percy said. “Good idea.”

The look that passed between Agatha and Professor Aldridge told Sam that today’s fire was not totally unexpected. Aldridge eyed the wet floor. “I’ll go see if I can find a mop and broom and start sweeping out some of this water. First, I’ll introduce you to Percy’s wife.”

They followed him into the kitchen. Percy was seated at the table. Agatha smiled at them as they walked in. “How frightfully rude of me for leaving you standing there. And with guests. I’m not normally this inconsiderate.”