hand.
His hand was as hard and dry as driftwood, his grasp firm. Charlie leaned against the wall and studied him. Barlow was studying him just as intently.
“Heard you were looking for me most of the day,” he said finally and turned to gaze out at the ocean.
“That’s right,” Charlie said. “I’m investigating the hotel fire. Why’d they let it burn, Mr. Barlow?”
The old man glanced at him, then chuckled. “Don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“Might be the only one in the whole damn county who doesn’t,” Charlie admitted.
Barlow’s chuckle sounded again and he nodded. “We use your little book down at the station, you know. The manual. Pretty good stuff in it. Good training manual.”
Charlie waited.
“You talked to J.C.,” Barlow said after a moment. “Course, he wasn’t here until after his dad hanged himself, so he doesn’t know what it was like. Bedlam, Mr. Meiklejohn. It was like Bedlam.”
“The hotel didn’t burn until a couple of weeks after the trouble,” Charlie said bluntly. “No connection.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But the trouble hadn’t stopped yet, either. Mildred Searles ran her car off the cliff, and Carey Duke went for a walk in the ocean and never came out. That was after the sisters were put away. Maybe we still had trouble, Mr. Meiklejohn.”
“Tell me about the night of the fire,” Charlie said harshly.
“Right. I was dispatcher, as they must’ve told you around town. Haven’t gone out myself for maybe ten years, but I keep a hand in. Know every road in the county like it was my back yard.” He continued to study the ocean as if searching for whales. “Four in the morning got a call from Michael Chubb. Said the school was on fire. That’s all. He could see it on his way down to the docks. No one knew if they’d be able to go out fishing—the fog, you know—but they went down to the docks to hang around, see if it lifted when the sun came up.” He took a deep breath. “I went out with my glasses and looked over the point here, just a little glow, no more than that, and I thought it was the school, too. We all did. And we wanted it to burn, Mr. Meiklejohn. We surely did want it to burn. In fact, we took it for granted that one of us, someone hurt real bad by all the trouble, put the torch to it. Someone like Joe Eglin, maybe. Poor Mrs. Eglin screamed for three days. You hear about that? She stopped screaming finally and hasn’t said a word or made a sound that anyone knows about ever since. If Joe had put the torch to it, there wasn’t a one of us who’d blame him. That’s how it was.”
“When you found out it was the wrong building, you lied about it anyway,” Charlie said bitterly. He felt tired, the way he used to feel in New York after prowling through ashes and ruins, even if only for a few minutes. The thought of fire made him weary.
Burry Barlow shrugged and looked over the site of the hotel. “Don’t know that it was the wrong building,” he said slowly. “The trouble stopped after it burned. Couple of people said they slept for the first time in weeks; we all felt like something heavy and bad had been taken off our backs. Besides, by the time the men got up here, it was too far gone. About all’s they could do was watch.”
‘”Trouble with a hose; electric outage silenced the alarm; you stumbled and were winded for another ten minutes, delaying the calls… .’ You committed perjury, you know. All of you did. Why are you telling me now?”
“You’re one of us, Mr. Meiklejohn, a fire fighter just like us. Didn’t seem right, when you knew anyway. But, of course, the record doesn’t change, and I’m an old man with a senile mind, memory shot to hell and gone. But you should know.”
Charlie grunted; he was one of them, all right. “See any strangers around that night?” Barlow shook his head. “Did you come up for the fire? What was it like when you got here?”
“I came,” Barlow said. “It was set, all
His hand was as hard and dry as driftwood, his grasp firm. Charlie leaned against the wall and studied him. Barlow was studying him just as intently.
“Heard you were looking for me most of the day,” he said finally and turned to gaze out at the ocean.
“That’s right,” Charlie said. “I’m investigating the hotel fire. Why’d they let it burn, Mr. Barlow?”
The old man glanced at him, then chuckled. “Don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“Might be the only one in the whole damn county who doesn’t,” Charlie admitted.
Barlow’s chuckle sounded again and he nodded. “We use your little book down at the station, you know. The manual. Pretty good stuff in it. Good training manual.”
Charlie waited.
“You talked to J.C.,” Barlow said after a moment. “Course, he wasn’t here until after his dad hanged himself, so he doesn’t know what it was like. Bedlam, Mr. Meiklejohn. It was like Bedlam.”
“The hotel didn’t burn until a couple of weeks after the trouble,” Charlie said bluntly. “No connection.”
“Maybe, maybe not. But the trouble hadn’t stopped yet, either. Mildred Searles ran her car off the cliff, and Carey Duke went for a walk in the ocean and never came out. That was after the sisters were put away. Maybe we still had trouble, Mr. Meiklejohn.”
“Tell me about the night of the fire,” Charlie said harshly.
“Right. I was dispatcher, as they must’ve told you around town. Haven’t gone out myself for maybe ten years, but I keep a hand in. Know every road in the county like it was my back yard.” He continued to study the ocean as if searching for whales. “Four in the morning got a call from Michael Chubb. Said the school was on fire. That’s all. He could see it on his way down to the docks. No one knew if they’d be able to go out fishing—the fog, you know—but they went down to the docks to hang around, see if it lifted when the sun came up.” He took a deep breath. “I went out with my glasses and looked over the point here, just a little glow, no more than that, and I thought it was the school, too. We all did. And we wanted it to burn, Mr. Meiklejohn. We surely did want it to burn. In fact, we took it for granted that one of us, someone hurt real bad by all the trouble, put the torch to it. Someone like Joe Eglin, maybe. Poor Mrs. Eglin screamed for three days. You hear about that? She stopped screaming finally and hasn’t said a word or made a sound that anyone knows about ever since. If Joe had put the torch to it, there wasn’t a one of us who’d blame him. That’s how it was.”
“When you found out it was the wrong building, you lied about it anyway,” Charlie said bitterly. He felt tired, the way he used to feel in New York after prowling through ashes and ruins, even if only for a few minutes. The thought of fire made him weary.
Burry Barlow shrugged and looked over the site of the hotel. “Don’t know that it was the wrong building,” he said slowly. “The trouble stopped after it burned. Couple of people said they slept for the first time in weeks; we all felt like something heavy and bad had been taken off our backs. Besides, by the time the men got up here, it was too far gone. About all’s they could do was watch.”
‘”Trouble with a hose; electric outage silenced the alarm; you stumbled and were winded for another ten minutes, delaying the calls… .’ You committed perjury, you know. All of you did. Why are you telling me now?”
“You’re one of us, Mr. Meiklejohn, a fire fighter just like us. Didn’t seem right, when you knew anyway. But, of course, the record doesn’t change, and I’m an old man with a senile mind, memory shot to hell and gone. But you should know.”
Charlie grunted; he was one of them, all right. “See any strangers around that night?” Barlow shook his head. “Did you come up for the fire? What was it like when you got here?”
“I came,” Barlow said. “It was set, all
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