“Oh crap. Okay, we are on our way.”
“Now what?” Dan asked.
“Someone burnt down the Tri-Cong hangout.”
“Awe man.”
“My thoughts exactly.”
***
When we pulled up the firemen were rolling up hoses and starting to pick up their equipment. The building was burned to the ground and a few firefighters were still putting out the remaining hot spots. The houses on either side were blackened where the intense heat had charred the paint.
“Couldn’t do much to save it?” I asked Chief Phillips.
“These things are nothing but tinderboxes. We were lucky to save the ones on either side. It was touch and go for a while.”
“Any idea what caused it?”
“Not until the investigators look at the place. We have bodies, that’s for sure.”
“No kidding. I wasn’t told that. How many?”
“Eight that we know of. One section of roof could be covering others.”
“That makes no sense. Someone had to have realized the place was on fire and gotten out.”
“Hey, what can I tell you? All I know is that we have at least eight bodies. Why they didn’t get out is someone else’s job to figure out,” the Chief said.
“Boy, Doc Sorenson is going to not be a happy camper,” I said.
“Did I hear my name mentioned?” the voice behind me said.
“Geez you old coot. Can’t I even mention your name without your popping up.”
“Nice to see you too…not.”
“Well if you thought the morgue was full now, wait until you have eight more bodies to find a place for.”
“What in the world is going on?” he murmured.
I was feeling the same way. I just couldn’t see this being an accident. It was just too much of a coincidence and I don’t happen to believe in them. First the five Tri-Cong shot at the convenience store and now eight more caught in a fire. That just didn’t work for me. Just as perplexing was how it was carried out.
I get the shooting but the fire was baffling. I sure wouldn’t have just sat there and burned. I would have found a way out even if I had to jump from the second story. I did that once while strapped to a chair and while it hurt like hell it was better than the alternative.
“Any theories on how this was pulled off?” I asked Sorenson.
“I don’t deal in theories, that’s what you guys do. I’m all about scientific fact.”
“Yeah? Here is a scientific fact for you. No more deli sandwiches until you stop being such a grump butt,” I replied.
“In that case, I would say something had to have rendered them unable to move,” he said smiling.
I love this old coot. He can be infuriating at times but I wouldn’t want to work with any other ME in the world.
***
“So we still don’t have much to go on,” McGregor said, leaning back in his chair.
“Pretty much.”
“And no one is helping.”
“Not to any extent. I have descriptions, about twenty different ones. The hotline we set up has produced three hundred plus leads and 75 percent of those start with how much is the reward. Most of the others are Mother-in-laws that are sure their no good Son-in-law is the one going around killing people.”
“As you can imagine, I got a call from the Commissioner. He isn’t pressing too hard now but it is just a matter of time. We are going to have to hold a press conference. They are starting to come up with some pretty wild theories,” the captain said.
“Like that will help. It just gives them more fodder to annoy us,” I replied.
“That may be true but we are still going to have to do it,” he insisted.
“And tell them what?”
“I don’t have a clue. You’re the lead investigator. That sounds like a problem for you to handle,” he said smiling.
“You are such a big help.”
“Thank you. I try to be.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“I know,” he said still smiling.
***
You have probably already figured this out but needless to say the press conference was pretty much a disaster. We stammered and stuttered while trying to look like we actually had accomplished something. Of course once the questions started it fell apart quickly. I can only dance so fast before they started to see through the smoke and mirrors.
“So are you saying these were all done by different people?” one reporter asked.
“We don’t know that for sure but the MO is different to some extent in each case.”
“To some extent? What exactly does that mean?” they persisted.
“I pretty much covered that. The first was by a big bore gun. The second one was using .410 shotgun shells and the autopsy has not come back on the third set yet,” I said trying to not get caught in a lie.
“But each was done by a single person, that you can’t seem to get and ID on, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, but that doesn’t mean it was done by different people or just one person for that matter.”
“So you are saying you have no real idea who may be doing this?” another reporter pointed out.
“We are working on leads. You all know by now that this kind of thing takes time. We have been pulled off all our other cases and are working on this one full time.”
“What about the Tri-Cong gang. It was wiped out. Was the house set on fire by the same guy?”
“We would just be speculating on that at this point in time. The fire department is looking to that aspect. Of course the autopsies haven’t been done. Doctor Sorenson and his staff are working overtime to try to discover why no one got out of the house fire alive.”
“When will you actually know something about these cases?” one reporter shouted but I ignored her.
Of course the best was saved for the last.
“Detective Bartoni. Speculation has it that the police aren’t in any hurry to catch this guy because he is cleaning up a lot of the mess in this city. In one week he has taken more criminals off the street than the police have been able to do in a month. Any truth in that?” she asked.
“There is speculation that the press actually verifies facts before they report the news, is there any truth in that?” I said and walked off.
Oh Angie, you are such a twit. I knew as soon as the words were out of my mouth that I was going to get killed in both the press and by the Commissioner. It’s one thing to be a bit flippant but to actually bust them out is different. I sure didn’t want to see the ten o’clock news or read the headlines in tomorrow’s paper.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“What in the hell is wrong with you Bartoni?” the captain asked, his eyes bugging out. They did that when he was really mad and apparently I had set him off once again.
“I just got sick of their stupid remarks. They are so condescending.”
“Are you dumber than a box of rocks? Did you listen to the news last night? I sure did. And the headlines this morning. You managed to irritate every reporter in the city. By tomorrow this will be national news and the Commissioner is going to come down on me like a ton of bricks. Do I look like I need that?”
I didn’t answer. This was not the time to come up with something cute to say. I just sat there trying to look innocent. Honestly, I didn’t care what they wrote or said. Both Dan and I knew we were going to take a hit and he was cool with it, at least for the most part.
“Look boss.” He likes it when I call him boss.
He thinks I really mean it and sucking up wasn’t such a bad idea at the moment.
“I got mad, okay? Everyone has a hot button. They hit mine when they said we weren’t even trying to catch the guy. He was doing more for the city than the police. It just hit me wrong. It’s not true and you and I both know it so I went off on them,” I told him.
“Going off is one thing but this…I don’t even know what to think,” he said.
“This too shall pass.
They will get over it,” I suggested.
“Bartoni I am so angry with you right now I want you to get out of my office. No, get out of the building. Go do something that will actually help,” he said pointing to the door.
I bit my lip as I got up and left. I grabbed Dan who was watching the exchange from his desk and we headed out.
“Bad?” he asked.
“Pretty upset.”
“You knew it was coming.”
“Yep.”
“What about the Commissioner?”
“He hasn’t weighed in yet but you know he will,” I replied.
“Where are we headed?”
“The ME’s office.”
“Oh, like Sorenson is going to cheer you up.”
“How much worse can it get?” I asked.
***
“Well if it isn’t the mouth of the south,” Sorenson said when we walked in.
“Don’t you start,” I warned.
“That was some performance. Yes sir, I am especially gratified that you mentioned my office as well. I’ve only had fifty calls since that last spectacle. Every reporter wants to know if you were telling the truth about us being overworked. Yes sir, that has really helped,” he said.
“Oh give me a break. You think I haven’t already gotten enough grief over this?”
“Serves you right. It would have been okay if you had just left me out of it,” he said.
“Come on doc. They got to me, okay?”
“Well I don’t have to be a detective to figure that out,” he said smugly.
He was right. I should have kept him out of this. Now he was having to contend with a bunch of reporters and he hated reporters about as much as anyone did.
“Have you got anything new?”
“The five guys at the convenience store were killed with the same type of shotshells. Most likely .410 is what I am putting in my official report pending any additional findings.”
“So it was the same guy?”
“Or one hell of a conscience. Yeah, I think it was the same guy,” Sorenson confirmed.
“Well that is something,” Dan said.
“Anything on the fire victims?” I hesitantly asked.
“Just getting ready to start on them. I think we are going to find the answer when the toxicology report comes back. I doubt anything physical is going to be wrong with them. Well, other than them all being dead.”
“Yeah, I get that part. So you think somehow they were rendered unconscious and then the house was set on fire?”
“That would be my guess; however, it is just a guess at this point and I will know more after I get to the exam. Of course that could be next month at the rate they are piling up around here and of course with the media calling every ten minutes.”
“You made your point. Don’t wallow in self-pity, it is unbecoming for a man your age,” I said.
“You know Bartoni, you are on thin ice with me.”
“I’ll bring you a sandwich from the deli,” I said.
“In that case, all is good,” he said smiling.
He is so easy.
We left with not much more than before except that we could link the last two shootings. Using a revolver was one sure way to make it difficult to collect any shell casings. The shotshells were another clever idea. There’s no way to match them to any one gun. The guy was no dummy that was for sure.
“What now? The arson investigation chief?” Dan asked.
“I can’t think of a better place to go. Let’s go pay them a visit.”
When we walked outside, the first small flakes of snow were starting to fall. Well that’s just special. I hate winter and it was going to come whether I was ready or not. By the time we got to the Arson Division is was starting to come down enough to collect on cars and the sidewalks.
The inside of the Arson Division was certainly a step up from our station. It was up-to-date and not rundown like our hovel. Large glass windows made you feel like you were not living in a cave. The receptionist was stunning looking. I saw Dan break into a sweat. He does that when he gets around beautiful women.
“Hi, I’m Detective Bartoni and this is Detective Roberts. Could we speak to Chief Collins?”
“Could I see your ID?”
Wow. I wondered how many people just dropped in to see the Chief. I was doubting there were many but we produced our IDs and I kept my mouth shut.
She checked them then picked up the phone and evidently talked to the Chief for a few minutes.
“He said to come on back. He is straight down that hall,” she said pointing, “The big door at the end of the hall.”
We walked down the hall looking at pictures of people. I had no idea who they were but they must be important here. The door was indeed large. It was actually a double door and quite solid looking. I didn’t know if I should knock or just barge in. Well, you know me, when in doubt, barge in, which I did with Dan right behind me.
We were immediately standing in front of another receptionist. Geez, someone has too big a budget.
“May I help you?”
“Uh, we are here to see Chief Collins. Someone down the hall just called back here.”
“May I see your ID?”
What was with these people? Did Collins get a lot of death threats? I mean showing them twice in less than sixty feet, come on, give me a break. I continued to keep my yap shut and produced my credentials. I guess she was satisfied because she led us to a door that said Chief Arson Inspector.
I had met Chief Collins on several occasions. He was around fifty I guessed, totally white haired and slightly overweight but certainly not obese by any stretch of the imagination. He stood up and came around from behind his desk and we shook hands.
“Nice to see you Angie. I guess this is about the Tri-Cong fire.”
“It is. We are trying to figure out how this fits into the killings of the other five members,” I said.
“Well I can tell you it was definitely arson. An accelerant was used. Actually more than one area was breached. It looks like at least four different ingress points were used. A Molotov cocktail is the most likely method.”
“So the eight of them are in the house and someone tosses in Molotov cocktails. They just sit there and let it happen and no one runs out?”
“That I don’t know about but I do know it took some time to walk around the house and throw them in. Why no one investigated or attempted to get out is a mystery at this point. I was talking to Doctor Sorenson at the ME’s office. He is going to work up a toxicology report.”
“We just left there. He told us he thinks he will find the answer when that tox report comes back.”
“Honestly, it is the only thing that makes sense. Even if they were asleep and from the position of the bodies I doubt they were, someone would have heard the breaking glass tried to get the others out.”
“So we are looking at not five of the Tri-Cong murdered but actually thirteen of them.”
“That would be my assessment.”
“Did you find any of the bottles used for the Molotov cocktails?” I asked.
“We found bits and pieces and sent them off to your lab,” Collins told me.
“Excellent.”
“We aim to please.”
“Anything else you can tell us?”
“We didn’t find anything else at the scene if that is what you mean.”
“No can of gas or anything like that?”
“Nope. Just the bodies and the broken bottle pieces.”
“If you find anything else, would you please let us know?”
“You bet. By the way, I saw the news and read the paper. What you said was true but not the best way of delivering the message,” he said, raising his eyebrows slightly.
“Tell me about it,” I said.
We thanked him and headed out. Joy, joy. The car was covered with snow. How nice.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Dan more or less slid us back to the station. I was definite
ly not in a good mood. Not only were we stuck on the case but now the weather was something we were going to have to contend with.
I was sitting at my desk having a pity party when the phone rang.
“Bartoni,” I answered.
“Ah Detective Bartoni. I just called to say I thought the press was totally unfair about what they said on the news and in the paper. That one reporter, Brenda Lewis, is especially nasty,” the man said.
“I certainly appreciate the support but who are you?” I asked.
“Let’s just say someone in a similar line of work as you.”
“You’re a cop?”
“In a way. We both get comparable results,” he answered.
“How about we stop the game? Who is this and why are you calling me?”
“Honestly, I just wanted to tell you that what they said was uncalled for and unfair. I know how hard you are working on the case and it must be frustrating to have so little to go on,” the man replied.
“We have a lot more than you think,” I answered.
“Now Detective Bartoni, that is simply not true and we both know it. You have virtually nothing to go on. Not even a reasonable description. When you are saving someone’s life, seldom are they going to help the police catch you.”
“And are you that person?”
“I could lie and say no but you wouldn’t believe me. The truth is yes. And the next thing you want to know is why would I contact you? I did so because you need to understand that I am not looking for trouble. I don’t cause it but I don’t run from it. If I see a serious injustice, I handle it right then and there. Waiting for the courts takes too long and far too often the criminals go free and are right back out on the street doing it all over again. My way assures they won’t get a slap on the wrist and be allowed to go out and do it all over again. Someone has to standup for the abused citizens since the police and the court system doesn’t seem to be up to the task,” he told me.”
“You need to stop this. You may be ahead of the game right now but you can’t get away with this over the long haul. You will make a mistake or misjudge one of the witnesses and we will catch you. You are not the judge and jury. It is not up to you to determine what sentence a person should get. You may have gotten away with it so far but I am tenacious and I will track you down,” I told him.
Victim's Advocate: Angie Bartoni Case Flie # 12 (Angie Bartoni Case Files) Page 6