The thing is, it would be best if you didnt go looking for her. Shes pretty freaked out, and having you around, with all the associations, wont help.
Well, Jesus Christ, Andi, what happened? Do I get to know that?
Nobody knows what happened. Its being handled by the Edina police.
You dont mean just an explosion or something, you mean somebody threw a firebomb through her window.
Thats exactly what happened, Manette said. Somebody threw a firebomb through her picture window.
Andi, I swear to God I wont come after her, but where is she? Tell me that. Just tell me.
Shes at my house, taking a nap right now. Shes hada couple of sedatives, shes feeling better. But we figured that people would let you know, and that Id better talk to you.
Let me know? My God, Andi, Im probably a suspect. And even… I gotta call those guys.
Dont call…
Not Weather. Ive got to call Edina.
Okay. But please dont come out, okay?
Okay.
Thanks. You know Im trying to bail this out for the two of you, and Im bailing as hard as I can.
Hey listen, Lucas said. Thanks for calling me.
He punched off and Sherrill said, Weather? Firebombed? She looked perplexed.
Yeah. Last night. Listen, you go after these other guys. Im running out to Edina.
HE CALLED FIRST: THE CHIEFS NAME WAS PETER HAFMAN and Lucas barely knew him.
Dont have much to show you, Hafman said. Somebody walked up last night and pitched a gallon jug of gasoline through the front window. Weve got bits of the wick, looks like a piece of ordinary cotton cloth, Im told. There is one odd thing…
What?
The bottle was scored so itd break easier. Scored with a glass cutter. The guys out here say that sounds like a pro.
I never heard of that, Lucas said. Look, could I come out and talk to your guys?
Come on ahead.
He rang off and handed the phone back to Sherrill, and it immediately beeped again. She answered and handed it back: Dispatch again.
YOUVE GOT ANOTHER CALL COMING IN. THEY SAY this one is urgent too.
Put it through.
There was a click, and a woman said, Chief Davenport? She had a purring voice, a little smoky.
Yes, this is Davenport. Who is this?
Did you know that Jim Bone was sleeping with Dan Kresges wife? For a long time? And now shell get all those options that used to be worthless?
And the phone went dead. Lucas looked at it, looked at Sherrill.
Now what?
That was our woman, I think.
Really? Whatd she say?
She said Jim Bone is sleeping with Kresges wife. And that shes gonna get a pile of stock options now that hes dead.
Sherrills eyebrows went up: Any more goddamn clues and well have to get a secretary to keep track of them.
Jim Bone, Lucas said. Huh.
WHEN WEATHER LEFT LUCAS, SHED STAYED WITH THE Manettes for a couple of weeks, then had taken over the lease on a small house being vacated by a University Hospitals surgical resident. Lucas had cruised it in city cars a half-dozen times, hoping to get a glimpse of her. He never had, but he knew the house.
Now he cruised it again, a ranch-style house of stone and clapboard that reminded him of his own house. It looked much the same as it always had, except that the front picture window, which looked out across the flagstone walk, was covered by a piece of unpainted plywood; and the eaves over the window were stained with soot.
He pulled into the driveway, got out, walked up to the front of the house, and peered through the small windows that flanked the center window. He was looking in at the front room: the place was a jumble of scorched furniture and carpeting, with burned drywall panels hanging down from the ceiling, books scattered across the floor in sodden clumps. He could smell the smoke and the water and the burned fiberglass insulation. No gasoline.
He stepped back, and as he turned to leave, noticed a woman watching from next door: she wasnt hiding, and didnt pretend to be doing anything else. Shed come outside to watch him. He headed toward her, dug out his identification.
Hello. Im Deputy Chief of Police Lucas Davenport from Minneapolis; Im a friend of Weathers.
The frown on her face eased a bit, and she tried on a smile. Oh, good. Ive been trying to keep an eye on the place since last night.
Thanks. I, uh, Im on my way to talk to your police chief out here, and I thought Id take a look… Listen, do you know if anybody saw anything last night? Or heard anything?
Nobody in my house heard anything until the fire engines, but Jane Yarrow across the street heard the window break. She said she didnt know it was a window breaking until later. She just heardsomething. And then she heard a car door slam, but she didnt get up until she heard the sirens. And that was about itnothing like this ever happened here before.
THE CHIEF WAS OUT WHEN LUCAS ARRIVED AT EDINA, but he was routed to a Detective James Brown. Brown was a tall, shambling man with a shock of white hair; he wore a rough tweed sportcoat with suede elbow patches, a blue oxford cloth shirt, and khakis with boat shoes. He looked like a professor of ancient languages.
NottheJames Brown? Lucas asked.
Why yes, I am, Brown said modestly. This is my disguise: keeps the groupies off.
Excellent strategy, Lucas said. He dropped into a chair beside Browns desk.
Brown looked down at a file open on his desk, sighed, and said, I understand you have a personal relationship with Weather Karkinnen.
Had one; she broke it off, Lucas said. I cant prove to you where I was at three oclock this morning, cause Iwas home in bed, alone. But. .. He shrugged. I didnt do it.
And even if you did, thats a pretty goddamn unbreakable alibi, Brown said.
Lucas said, Hey… I didnt do it.
Brown sighed again and asked, The chief told you about the scoring on the bottle?
Yeah. He said it looked like a pro job.
Thats what the fire guys say. You get a regular bottle, it might bounce, it might not even break. But with the scoring, it explodes when it hits the floor. Very fast, very efficient. What we think is, the bomber came in from the north, idled to a stop in front of the house, got out, leaving the car door open, walked up to the front of the house with the jug, flashed the wick with a cigarette lighter, and heaved it through the window. The whole thing, I timed it, would be ten to fifteen seconds, walking, from the time he got out of the car to the time he got back in. Then he rolled off down the street, around the corner, four blocks down to the highway, and back to Minneapolis. He was on the highway before Ms. Karkinnen even called 911.
Who owns the place?
A couple named Bartletttheyre down in Florida. Theyd rented it to a doctor for the past eight years, and then to your friend. Strictly an income property for them.
Any reason they might want to torch it?
Nothing obviousits a good neighborhood, they could probably sell it for a lot more than theyd ever get from insurance. And theyre pretty reputable people.
Shit, Lucas said.
All that stuff that was in the paper last winter… The LaChaises…
Yeah. Thats what Im afraid of, Lucas said.
Brown tapped his desk: But one thing doesnt fit with that. Whoever did this wasnt trying real hard to kill her. I mean, if it was a pro job. They didnt even come close. She was in the back bedroom, ran out when she heard the window break, saw the fire, called 911, and if she hadnttried to save her pictures, she wouldnt have been hurt at all.
She was hurt? Lucas sat up, angry now. I was told she wasnt…
Not bad, not bad, Brown said. She got a couple of small cuts on her feet from broken glass, and her hair was singed, and she got some small spark burns on one hand. But she told us she has some operations tomorrow and she expects to do them.
LUCAS TOOK IT SLOW DRIVING BACK TO MINNEAPOLIS, pulling threads together. Black checked in on Lucass car phone: I had to do some psychotherapy on this Markham asshole, but the bottom line is, he thinks ODell couldnt do it.
All right. You got another one yet?