American Arson

Chapter Ten

Lewis stared into the alleyway, his hair blowing in the breeze. His eyes rested on the crisp, black appearance of three burnt corpses. He stared at them intensely. The burnt bodies didn't bother him anymore. Then, he turned to see Daniels walking towards him. He stopped at the end of the alleyway and peeked around the corner.

"Well, shit," Daniels said.

Three bodies. Fuck, Lewis thought.

"Happened a few hours ago. The witness over there called it in. Looks like the Molotov to me." Lewis replied.

It was still dark outside. The sun would rise in about thirty minutes, but for now, a spotlight lit up the scene. The yellow crime tape moved back and forward with the breeze. There weren't too many officers on scene yet, but Lewis and Daniels were expected to be one of the first there.

"Got anything out of the witness yet?" Daniels asked. Lewis shook his head. "Forensics won't even let us over the tape yet. Too fucking early for me to be here, I guess. Should've slept in."

Lewis looked over at the officer who was interviewing the witness. The two officers who were first on the scene were sitting on a park bench, discussing something that he couldn't pick up. This is a fucking mess, he thought. This added three people to the existing death toll of seven, which meant ten deaths. Ten bodies.

Ten human beings.

He sighed. The sky was starting to light up, but the sun still refused to rise above the horizon. Lewis looked down at his watch, adjusting it. The air around him smelled like burnt flesh. "Did Forensics break extra masks?" He yelled out. Within a few seconds, one of the officers handed one to him.

Once the officer walked away, he heard somebody yell out from the fire escape on the side of the building. "We've got another one!" The voice yelled. He looked up the see one of the forensic technicians leaning out of the third-floor window. Fuck, Lewis thought.

Eleven human beings.

Then, he yelled out to the man. "He burned too?"

"No!"

"Then what is it?"

The technician paused. He seemed hesitant.

"Gunshot wound!"

Lewis and Daniels immediately looked at each other. "So he owns a gun," Daniels said. It got Lewis thinking. "Do you think he planned on shooting anybody?" He asked. Daniels shook his head, then looked back up at the man as he disappeared inside the building.

Lewis yawned.  He walked over the park bench and laid down. "You taking a nap?" Daniels asked, smiling. Lewis nodded. "Wake me up when Forensics lets us in," he replied. So, he slowly drifted off into sleep, looking up at the sky.

***

"Wake the fuck up, Lewis!" Daniels yelled, shaking him. He nearly jumped off of the bench. "I'm up!" He yelled back. Daniels was laughing.

He looked around. He shielded his eyes from the sun, which had risen above the horizon. There were plenty more policemen there now than there were when he fell asleep. He quickly adjusted his tie and hair, then brushed his shirt off.

"Forensics is letting us in. Think fast." He said, throwing a pair of gloves at him. He nearly dropped them, but quickly made the recovery. He slipped them on and followed Daniels under the police tape. Finally, he stood over the bodies of the homeless men.

There was much more of a breeze now than there was before. He had fallen asleep while wearing his mask. Daniels had one on too. For the first time, he got up close and personal with the bodies. He looked down at the one closest to the road, while Daniels went to investigate the one below the fire escape.

It was only a few seconds before one of the guys from Forensics walked up. He recognized him. His name was Blake Pollock. Lewis turned to meet him. "Fill us in," he said.

"Well, I can tell you that the fire started with this guy." He said, pointing at the man under the fire escape. "He's got glass in his head. The cause of death seems to be blunt force trauma. If I had to guess, I would say he got hit directly with the cocktail, which killed him."

Daniels looked over. "So where did the cocktail come from?"

Pollock spoke up. "Well, at first we thought he threw it from the road. However, when we went up the fire escape we found traces of gasoline. We believe he threw it from the fire escape and went through the window."

"What about the dead guy inside?" Lewis asked.

Pollock shrugged. "Dead guy is named Eric Davis. We found a nametag on his body. He's got two shots to the chest, and one to the thigh. Oh, and get this: We found a gun on him."

Daniels was intrigued. "Are we sure it's his?"

"Can't be sure, but if it is he bled all over it."

"Well, to me it looks like he tried to serve the Molotov some swift justice," Lewis added in.

"Yeah, but what was this guy doing in the office at this time of night?" Daniels asked.

Pollock shrugged. "Why don't you come look at him yourself?" He asked. So, the duo followed Pollock up the stairs. They made their way into the hallway, only to be greeted by a blood-stained body laying on the floor. They walked over and loomed over the body. Mr. Davis sported a giant bullet hole in his head. His white shirt was polluted with the red dye of blood.

In the corner, a man was on a ladder. He was messing around with a security camera on the wall. "We got footage?" Lewis asked. Pollock nodded. "We'll have it to you in a while."

Just after he finished speaking, Lewis got a phone call. He picked up his phone and was greeted by the Chief's number. He looked over to Daniels. "It's Chief Lawson." He said. Daniels looked at him, saying nothing for a few seconds. Finally, he spoke. "Well answer it, dumbass." He said.

He swiped his finger across the screen and brought the phone to his ear. "Lewis speaking," He said.

"Lewis, get the fuck down to the station, it's urgent."

"What's up?" He asked.

"No time for explaining, just get your ass down here!" He said.

Then, he hung up.

"Hello?" Lewis said.

Daniels looked at him. "Hang up?" He asked. Lewis didn't answer his question, but instead, a sense of urgency overtook him. "We need to get to the fucking station," He said.

"Now."