MADRIGAL

Chapter 6

The fire tore through the building at a breakneck pace, skipping through air ducts and licking termite-riddled supports. A third-floor collapse cascaded down through the second, cutting off the firefighters' egress. Sgt. Lunes and his partner were trapped behind hungry tongues of fire. Theirs was a small substation that arrived on scene early, and there had been no indication of the inferno awaiting to erupt. Other responders were ten minutes out, but the sergeant felt they didn't have ten minutes left.

They retreated to the back of the building where a steel door offered a possible escape. They tried the knob, but it was bolted from the other side. Lunes yelled into his radio, praying someone would hear them. The force of both men against the door achieved nothing. Lunes turned to face the fire, a fate he had seen too many of his brothers fall to before, and realized he didn't tell his wife, Mildred, good-bye this morning. Despite the fear and the flames, an acceptance rolled through him, and was almost at peace when the clamor of metal against metal drew him back, and after a few more seconds, the door swung open.

In the other room stood a woman in a fireman's mask and little else by way of protection. Deanna tossed the crowbar aside. "You're welcome."

***

The firm that handled Jane's lottery winnings did not specialize in criminal law, but they had enough experience with white-collar cases that they understood the art of conversing with the police. One of the partners beat her to the station, and Jane marveled at his impeccable attire at three A.M. He asked for time for a consult, and they were allowed the interrogation room for a few minutes.

"Let me say this up front," said the lawyer. "This isn't good."

"What do you mean?"

"There's going to be a lot of politics in play here. Some believe that you got away with murder last month." He held up his hand to fend off a potential protest. "I'm not saying that's right; just saying it's true. Many feel the cops didn't investigate properly the first time, or else there was a cover-up.

"This is different. This is a second violent encounter in two months, and some think you were investigated lightly the first time. The media is going to scrutinize more than ever, the community, too, and the state's probably going to get involved. There is no way they are going to go easy on you. Is there anything you're not telling me, anything I need to know?"

"No. I went down there to help people out. I barely had time to do anything before he pulled a knife."

"And that's it. That's the truth, that's everything?"

"Yes. Absolutely."

He inspected her face a moment before nodding. "All right. But you need to answer only when I say, okay?" She nodded, and he waved to the glass window where people awaited.

The man who entered was a stranger, but familiar, someone she probably had passed in the halls when she was an officer. The man in the light-brown suit shook hands with Jane and her lawyer. "Evening. I'm Detective Veert with Major Crimes. I don't believe we've met."

"No," Jane said. "I don't think so." Her lawyer later explained that this was not conversational, but a means of insulating himself, showing no prior relationship or friendship.

The detective nodded. "Well, we just need to ask a few questions, clarify some things."

"Sure."
"Okay. So, from the beginning, can you explain why you were in the area?"

"I had recently come into a large amount of money and wanted to give some of it away to people who might need it."

"Right, and believe me, everyone here has heard about that, so congratulations. So, have you done this before?"