Foley shrugged.
“Something burned up hot as hell at this very spot,” McGee said. “Place was abandoned like half the buildings we’re seeing right now. I don’t care if there’s a hundred points or just this one. No one does this shit and just stops cold.”
Foley ran a hand over his jaw. He stared at McGee but didn’t say a word.
“I’m sure you got your reasons,” McGee said. His fat face was turning a bright red. “But I don’t appreciate the way I been treated. Like I’m some kind of goofball for thinking the firebug did this. I loved Pat. He was my best friend. I was the one who had to call on his wife. Go get his kid at his goddamn soccer game. You know what it was like to hear that order to evacuate on the radio, knowing our guys were inside?”
Foley nodded. “Of course.”
“Yeah,” McGee said. His voice softening. “I know. I know.”
“Can we agree it’s suspicious?” I said.
“Of course it’s suspicious,” McGee said. “Arson’s got some kind of evidence. And they found more at all the other fires.”
Foley placed his hands inside his black rain slicker and shook his head. “Yeah?” he said. “Where’d you hear that, Jack?”
“Everyone in the department knows,” McGee said. “Jesus Christ. You don’t think firemen talk around the station? What else can we do but polish our engines.”
“We start talking about a firebug and people start to panic,” Foley said. “And then the crazies start joining in to copycat. You know how that shit goes.”
“But you found something,” I said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Foley said. “We got something. But it’s not enough yet. If you know something, you better let us know.”
“Why don’t you broadcast every shred you got to every reporter in this city? Put out a reward?”
“Like I said, we have to be careful about everything we do,” Foley said. “This takes time.”
“It’s been a freakin’ year,” McGee said. “Give Spenser something to work off of. What can it hurt?”
“Look, if Spenser wants to poke around about this fire, I won’t get in his way. Just promise me you’ll share if you get something of use.”
“Can I meet with investigators?” I said.
“That’s up to them,” Foley said. “But I’ll ask.”
“Arson is doing jack shit,” McGee said. “They’ve had their thumb up their ass for the last year. I go down there to talk to them and they look like I just crapped in the sink. Why not let him talk to them?”
“Ease off,” Foley said. “Let me see what I can do.”
We walked back out into the light rain and fresh air. I took a deep breath, but could still smell the blackened wood and fire on my clothes. The short, squat man I’d seen before was waiting by a red Ford Explorer, holding a door open for Foley. The front plate had an official BFD tag.
Foley stopped for a moment to stare at McGee. “Is he as good as he says?”
McGee looked to me. “If he’s half as good as his ego, it’ll help.”
“Jack speaks the truth,” I said. “My ego is massive.”
Foley gave me a nod and walked to the car. The car sped away and I was alone in the rain with Jack McGee.
“What the fuck was that?” he said.
“Cooperation?” I said.
“Maybe,” he said. “Maybe not. Watch your ass. Anytime a jake leaves the ranks, it makes me nervous.”
10
Susan was still in session. I let myself in, took Pearl for a short walk, and as a reward popped the top on a Lagunitas IPA. Z had introduced me to the beer, as it hailed, like him, from the West Coast.
I sat on Susan’s back deck and tossed tennis balls to Pearl. Even though Pearl was aging, she could retrieve better than Irving Fryar. A tennis ball wasn’t quite the pros, but she didn’t seem to mind. I let Pearl back in the house for some water, removed my knit shirt, and started Susan’s push lawnmower. Her diminutive lawn had gotten shaggy.
The whole thing took less than twenty minutes.
After I finished, I helped myself to another beer as a reward and sat again with Pearl on the back deck. I had on Levi’s, a pair of running shoes, and sunglasses. I must have looked rakish when Susan walked onto the back deck and eyed the lawn. Freshly cut grass smelled of summer.
“How much do I owe you?” she said.
“I’ve seen movies that started off like this.”
“How about you prune the bushes and we’ll talk.”
I smirked but restrained comment. Susan only shook her head.
Susan had already changed from shrink garb into a pair of khaki shorts and a lightweight gray T-shirt with a tiny square pocket. She wore her hair on top of her head in a bun and no shoes. Her large, dark eyes were luminous.
“How about an early dinner at Alden and Harlow?” I said.
“Or a later dinner at the Russell House Tavern?” she said.