"Warehouse belong to man named To. . . Tobin."
Cole glanced at Annabel. "Tobin's one of my main competitors. He's lost two warehouses already; if he loses a third, it'll probably drive him out of business. And if Wing Ko succeeds in blaming me for the arson, that'll take care of me, too. Then he and his new partner can come in and take over practically the entire waterfront."
"You've got to stop them," Annabel said.
"Can you show me the warehouse that's going to be torched?" Cole said sharply to Loo.
Again the man nodded. "This one take you there."
Annabel caught at Cole's arm. "Cole, you can't stop this by yourself. Call the police."
"You can do that," he told her. "It's been just blind luck that no one has been killed so far in those blazes. Call the police and have them meet Loo and me on the waterfront."
Annabel looked like she wanted to argue, but finally she nodded. "All right. But be careful."
"I intend to be." He turned to Loo. "Are you sure you're up to going down there?"
Loo rose and pulled his quilted jacket around his bandaged torso. "This one can go," he said.
"All right, then. Come on."
Cole led Loo out of the house. Annabel watched them go, gnawing her lower lip as she did so. A part of her wanted desperately to disregard Cole's wishes and go with him to the waterfront. She had promised that she would contact the authorities, though, so with a sigh she walked over to the small on which the telephone sat
She picked up the mouthpiece, turned, the crank, and when the operator came on the line, asked to be connected to the police department. When someone there answered, Annabel said, "I need to speak to Inspector Fernack." She recalled the name but had never met the man.
"Ain't here right now."
"Well, then, some other detective."
"Detectives've all gone home for the night, miss."
Obviously, police stations were run differently now than they were in the era she came from, Annabel thought. She said, "I need to speak to someone about the arson fires on the waterfront There's going to be another one tonight"
"Oh, is that so?"
Annabel realized with a shock that the man didn't believe her. His tone of voice was light, almost amused.
"I'm not joking," she snapped. "There really is going to be a fire."
"And how do you know that, miss?"
"I spoke with a man who's involved with the ones responsible for the fires. They're being set by one of the tongs, the one led by Wing Ko." Annabel realized she didn't know the name of the tong itself.
"The Feathered Dragon Society?"
"I suppose so."
"Lady, no offense, but it sounds to me like you don't know what you're talkin' about. Been into the Lydia Pinkham's?"
That was too much for Annabel to tolerate. She blew up arid began to chew out the policeman in the same tone of voice she had used on novice smoke-jumpers who fouled up during training, A loud click in her ear stopped her abruptly and told her that the policeman had hung up.
Well, if she couldn't make the police listen, at least she could alert Chief Sullivan. He wasn't available at fire department headquarters, however, and the man who answered the telephone there refused to tell Annabel how to contact him. With her frustration growing, she cradled the mouthpiece, then picked it up again and asked to be connected to Engine Company Twenty-one.
Lieutenant Driscoll was not on duty, but at least Annabel finally got hold of someone who seemed to know who she was and who took her seriously. The man promised to pass on the warning, but then he said, "We can't respond until an alarm has been turned in, though."
"What!" Annabel exclaimed. "I'm telling you about the fire so you can stop it before it gets started."
"We can't do that. Regulations say we can only leave the firehouse in response to an alarm."
Annabel bit back the angry reaction that tried to spring to her lips—yelling at the police hadn't done any good. "Just be ready to .roll," she said, then broke the connection.
She had tried, she told herself. She had done the best she could to go along with what Cole wanted. Unfortunately, it hadn't worked out as he had hoped. So now he needed to know that help was on the way to the waterfront. He was down there facing danger with only a wounded man to back him up.
Annabel had to get to him. If anything happened to him because she'd failed to warn him, she would never forgive herself.
She ran to get her coat. It was a cool, foggy night, and it would be even more damp and chilly on the waterfront.
****