“Thank you, Bobby. I appreciate your concern.”
Assuevo intervened quickly. “I want the full story on what happened tonight. How you became aware of the fire, what you were doing.”
“I was asleep,” I explained. “The smoke woke me up. Mr. Ferrant was with me; we realized the kitchen was on fire, tried the front door and found it was on fire, too. We got out by the fire escape-I roused these kids, he got Mr. and Mrs. Takamoku. That’s all I know.”
Roger confirmed my story. We both vowed that the people we’d gotten up had been sound asleep at the time. Could they have been faking it? Assuevo wanted to know.
Ferrant shrugged. “They could have been, but they seemed pretty deep in sleep to me. I wasn’t concerned about that kind of thing, Mr. Assuevo. Just to get them up and out.”
After thrashing that out, Assuevo went on to explore our feelings about the landlord-did any of us bear a grudge, what kind of problems had we had with the apartment, how had the landlord responded. To my relief, even the overwrought students sensed where those questions were going.
“He was a landlord,” one of the girls said, the thin, longhaired one who’d been in the living room. The other two chimed in their agreement. “You know, the place was clean and the rent was cheap. We didn’t care about anything else.”
After a few more minutes of that, Assuevo murmured with Bobby near the door. He came back and told the students they could leave.
“Why don’t you go, too?” I said to Roger. “It’s time you were getting down to Ajax, isn’t it?”
Ferrant gripped my shoulder. “Don’t be an ass, V.!. I’ll call my secretary in a bit-it’s only seven o’clock. We’ll see this out together.”
“Thank you, Mr. Ferrant,” Assuevo said swiftly. “Since you were in the apartment at the time of the fire, we would have to ask you to stay, anyway.”
Bobby said, “Why don’t you explain how you two know each other and why.”
I looked coldly at Mallory. “I can see where this is headed, and I don’t like it one bit. If you are going to imply in any way that either Mr. Ferrant or I knew anything about the fire, we are going to insist on charges being brought before we answer any questions. And my attorney will have to be present.”
Roger scratched his chin. “I’ll answer any questions that’ll help solve this problem-I assume everyone agrees the apartment was set on fire by an arsonist-but if you’re charging me with breaking any laws, I’d better call the British consul.”
“Oh, get off your high horse, both of you. I just want to know what you were doing tonight.”
I grinned at him. “No, you don’t, Bobby: It’d make you blush.”
Assuevo stepped in again. “Someone tried to kill you, Ms. Warshawski. They broke the lock on the front door to get into the building. They poured kerosene on your apartment door and set fire to it. You want my opinion, you’re lucky to be alive. Now the lieutenant and I gotta make sure, Ms. Warshawski, that there aren’t some bad guys”-his eyebrows punctuated the remark to let me know that “bad guys” was facetious- “out there who are trying for you personally. Maybe it’s just someone with a grudge against the landlord, and he goes after you as a sideline. But maybe it’s against you, okay? And so maybe Mr. Ferrant here”-sketching a gesture at Roger-”is assigned to make sure you stay in the apartment tonight. So don’t be such an angry lady. The lieutenant and I, we’re just doing our job. Trying to protect you. Unless maybe you set the fire yourself, huh?”
I looked at Roger. He pushed the hair out of his eyes and tried straightening a nonexistent tie before speaking. “I can see you have to look into that, Mr. Assuevo. I’ve done my share of fire-claim investigations and I assure you, I know you have to explore every possibility. While you’re doing that, though, maybe we can try to find out who actually set that fire.” He turned to me. “Miss Warshawski, you don’t think it could be the same person who threw-”
“No,” I interrupted him firmly, before he could complete the sentence. “Not at all.”
“Then who? If it was personally directed-no, not the people who shot Agnes?” Roger looked at Mallory. “You know, Miss Paciorek was murdered recently while looking into a takeover attempt for me. Now Miss Warshawski’s trying to pick up that investigation. This is something you really need to look into.”
Roger, you goon, I thought. Did that just occur to you?
Mallory and Assuevo were talking in unison. “Threw what?”
Bobby was demanding, while Assuevo said, “Who’s Miss
Paciorek?”
When they quieted down, I said to Bobby, “Do you want to explain Agnes Paciorek to Mr. Assuevo, Lieutenant?”
“Don’t ride me, Warshawski,” he warned. “We’ve had our discussion on that. If you or Mr. Ferrant has some hard evidence to show she was killed because she was looking into those Ajax buyers, give it to me and I’ll follow it to the end. But what you’ve told me so far doesn’t add up to more than the kind of guilt we always find with friends and relations-she was killed because I didn’t do this or that or because I asked her to stay late or whatever. You have anything to add to that, Mr. Ferrant?”
Roger shook his head. “But she told me she was staying late to talk to someone about the sales.”
Bobby sighed with exaggerated patience. “That’s just what I mean. You’re the college-educated one, Vicki. You explain to him about logic and moving from one argument to the other. She was working late on Ajax and she got shot. Where’s the connection?”
“Ah,” Assuevo said. “That stockbroker who was killed. My sister’s husband’s niece is a cousin of her secretary… Do you think there’s a connection with the fire, Ms. Warshawski?”
I shrugged. “Tell me something about the arson. Does it have a signature you recognize?”
“It could be the work of any professional. Quick, clean, minimum fuel, no prints-not that we expect prints in the middle of January. No evidence left behind. It was organized, Ms. Warshawski. Organized. So we want to know who is organizing against you. Maybe the enemies of Ms. Paciorek?”
Mallory looked at me thoughtfully. “I know you, Vicki. You’re just arrogant enough to go stirring that pot without telling me. What have you found?”
“It’s not arrogance, Bobby. You made some really disgusting accusations the morning after Agnes died. I figure I don’t owe you one thing. Not one name, not one idea,”
His round face turned red. “You don’t talk to me that way, young lady. If you obstruct the police in the performance of their duties, you can be arrested. Now what have you found out?”
“Nothing. I know who the Chicago brokers were for the big blocks of Ajax sales the last six-seven weeks. You can get those from Mr. Ferrant here. That’s what I know.”
His eyes narrowed. “You know the firm of Tilford and Sutton?’
“Stockbrokers? Yeah, they’re on Mr. Ferrant’s list.”
“You ever been to their offices?”
“I don’t have anything to invest.”
“You wouldn’t have been there two nights ago, would you, investigating their Ajax sales?”
“At night? Stockbrokers do business during the day. Even I know that..
“Yeah, clown. Someone broke into their offices. I want to know if it was you.”
“There were eight or nine brokers on Mr. Ferrant’s list. Were they all broken into?”
He smashed his fist on the table to avoid swearing. “It was you, wasn’t it?”
“Why, Bobby? You keep telling me there’s nothing to investigate there. So why would I break in to investigate something that doesn’t exist?”
“Because you’re pigheaded, arrogant, spoiled. I always told Tony and Gabriella they should have more children-they spoiled you rotten.”