The Fire...

The phone rang again that night but it wasn’t Ann Barton this time. It was three o’clock in the morning and it took several rings to waken Billy out of his almost wet dream of Detective Ann Barton. He answered with a sleepy, “Hello. Who is this?” There was silence on the line for several seconds. Billy once again asked who was calling. Finally a voice answered. It was the same voice Billy had heard twice before.

He said,” It’s me and I won’t call you again.”
In an instant Billy was wide-awake. “Wait,” he said,” Don’t hang up! What do you want to tell me? I’m listening.”
“I can tell you who killed the Mayor,” the voice said.
“What do you want me to do?” Billy asked.
“Remember, you can never tell anyone about this or me. It has to be a secret. If you ever tell anyone, something bad will happen.”

“I believe you,” Billy said. I won’t tell anyone. I’m not married or going with anyone so there is no worry about me telling anyone accidentally or anything like that.”
“You’ve got the hots for Detective Barton,” the voice said.
“Who are you?” Billy asked.
“You don’t need to know that or anymore about me. Don’t ask again.”
“All right,” said Billy, “Now what do you want me to do?”

“OK, now listen carefully and don’t ask no questions. Any questions, I meant. Get together every bit of information you have about the murder.”
“There isn’t any information,” Billy said.
“Just be quiet and listen. Get the clothes the mayor was wearing and get something from everyone who had anything to do with the investigation, a shirt or glove or something, anything. Then get together all the information there is about all of the mayor’s friends and family. Write down all you can find out about his neighbors and anyone who was in any club or organization he was in. I want the history of each one for the last three months, everything all of them has done no matter how minor it seems to you, where they went and how long they were gone and why.
Find out and write down everything the mayor has done and everywhere he has gone and why for the last three months. I might need more later. Make separate lists of all the people you check on and write it up separately so I can read it easy. Don’t leave nothing out even if it don’t seem important to you. Now, do you understand everything?”

“I understand but it will be hard to do all that without anyone knowing what I’m doing,” Billy said.
“You gotta do it in secret. If anyone finds out what you are doing or that someone besides you is in on it I won’t call back or finish this. I just won’t call you anymore.”
“ All right. When I get this stuff together what do I do with it?”
“Put each persons’ stuff together and mark each bundle and paper with their names. Then put it all in a garbage bag and I’ll tell you where to leave it. I’ll call you back in a month. It has to be that soon. I can’t wait any longer.”

“What if I can’t get it ready that soon?” asked Billy.
“Then we’ll just forget it,” the voice answered. “Bye.” Then he was gone that quickly.

Billy didn’t get back to sleep that night. He lay awake in his bed for another hour, trying to doze, but finally got up and made a pot of Folgers coffee.
“How am I going to do this?” he asked himself. The answer kept coming up, ‘Ann Barton.’ Of course he knew that wasn’t a good answer but he could not stop thinking about it. Billy was an enterprising man and had always been able to figure out just about anything once he put his mind to it. Sometimes the answer came quickly and sometimes slowly but eventually it always came and when he finally decided on a course of action, he acted with resolve. After Billy had drank his third cup of coffee he decided what he would do.

At seven thirty that morning Billy walked into the station. Ann was already there at her desk, scribbling on a note pad. They were the only ones in the room. Billy stopped in front of Ann’s desk. For a long moment he just stood there, saying nothing at first. Ann looked up at him furtively. Finally Billy said,” Detective, we have to talk.” Ann looked intently at Billy for several moments.

“Ann, we have to talk,” Billy repeated. “It can’t be helped. I don’t know what else to do.”

She knew what he meant without asking him. She said,” I’ll see you tonight about nine at the Pizza parlor. Make our meeting look like an accident.”

Billy was there at 8:45 sitting at a table when Ann walked in. He had drank a pitcher of beer already and seemed to be at least two sheets in the wind, maybe three.
“Hey, Dick,” he shouted when he saw her. “ I mean private Dick! No, I mean public Dick! Well, hell, how about Detective, Ms. Barton, M'am!”
“Christ!” Ann said. “How long have you been drinking?” she asked. “ You look plowed!”
“Not long,” Billy answered. His words were slurred and Ann knew he had downed a considerable amount of beer. People were watching and getting a real kick out of Billy. It was public knowledge that Billy had a huge crush on Ann Barton, Tulla City’s newest Detective. They, also, knew that the detective didn’t feel the same way about Tulla City’s youngest and newest Police Officer.

Billy started to rise from his chair and greet Ann when she came toward him. It didn’t work out too well, though. Billy’s right foot caught a rung in the chair and he pitched forward, striking his head on the corner of the next table.
He landed with a crash that tipped the table over onto his left arm. The people who had been sitting there were dancing and had left a half pitcher of beer and two glasses on the table. The pitcher flipped over and landed top down on Billy’s head and shoulder with a clunk and beer drenched him from his head down.

“Shit!” mumbled Billy. “Oops, I mean.” “ Damn it all, I guess I tripped.”

Ann hurried to where Billy was lying and leaned down and touched his arm. “Are you all right?” she asked. She sounded genuinely concerned and Billy managed to put a hurt look on his face.

“ No I’m not,” he started to say but it didn’t come out right. His hurt look quickly turned to a grin then he began to laugh. “ Shit,” he laughed. “ I must have been born under the wrong sign! I was just trying to be polite.”

Ann rose to a standing position and watched as Billy struggled to regain his feet. After unwrapping from a chair, he stood the chair and table back upright and shouted to the bartender,” Set these folks up another pitcher of beer, on me!”
Then he very convincingly staggered backward and collapsed into a chair. His head showed a smudge of blood where it had hit the table when he fell. Now it was dripping down his forehead.

A big man walked over to him and said,” Hey, fellow, you need to sober up and get that head looked at.” As he spoke, he reached toward Billy. Billy lurched forward and shoved the man backward.
“I don’t need nothing,” he shouted. The big man backed toward the counter and said,” I was just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help,” Billy shouted, drunkenly, “I can take care of myself.”
Just then, Ann, who had been standing next to Billy, grabbed him by the arm and shoulder and spun him around with his back to her. She deftly pulled his arm up behind his back and said, “Settle down, officer, or you’ll wind up behind your own bars.”
Billy struggled for a second then submitted to Ann’s force.
“All right,” he slurred, “ I’ll go. Just turn me loose.”
Ann’s voice softened and she said, “I’ll take you to the clinic. We’ll get your head looked after. OK?”
“OK,” Billy answered meekly. And they left the Pizza Parlor.

Ann’s’ car was a half block away from the pizza parlor and the two of them started toward it. Neither spoke as they walked toward the car. It was parked on the same side of the street as the pizza parlor so Ann started to walk onto the street to get behind the steering wheel.
Billy staggered toward the car and was almost there when he pitched forward head first into the side of the car. The force of his collision with the door of the car bounced him backward several feet and he landed on his left side with a thud. Ann hurried around to where Billy lay on the sidewalk, writhing in pain and cursing under his breath.

“Christ,” said Billy. “Shit, oh dear! I think my arm is broken.” Just as Ann reached him and knelt down and put her hand under his head, Billy passed out cold.
“ Oh, Billy,” she said, “What in hell am I going to do with you?”
Ann heard footsteps coming toward her and looked up to see the big man from the bar approaching.
“ I hope you don’t mind that I was watching after you. Your friend had the look of someone who might not make it to the car so I thought I’d better keep an eye on him and you. Can I give you a hand getting him into your car?” the man asked.
“I’m Police Detective Ann Barton and this is Officer Billy Thompson,” Ann said. “Who are you?”
The man told Ann his name and when she was satisfied he was just a harmless patron of the pizza parlor, she said,” Sure. Let’s get him into the car and I’ll take him to the clinic. He isn’t usually like this. Evidently he isn’t a big drinker. For sure not a good drinker.”

A few minutes later Ann pulled up in front of the clinic. Luckily there was still someone on duty at the desk and Ann asked for someone to bring a gurney and take Billy inside. An orderly came out to the car and, with the help of Ann and the big man, loaded Billy onto the gurney and rolled him inside.
Ann explained to the admissions clerk who she and Billy were but didn’t say just how the injury to his head occurred. Of course, the orderly and the clerk were acutely aware of Billy’s drunken condition. He reeked of beer, sweat and blood, but mostly beer.
The big man asked if Ann would be all right and she said she would and thanked him for his help and he left.

Billy awoke around four o’clock the next morning, confused and wanting to know why he was in this hospital bed. He found a buzzer switch, pressed it, and waited for someone to arrive. After it became obvious no one was coming, he sat up in the bed and put his feet on the floor. Unsteadily he stood and immediately his head began to spin and tiny pinpoint flashes of light swam in front of his face.
He quickly sat back down on the bed, leaned back and closed his eyes. The flashes of light and dizziness subsided and he once again opened his eyes. At that moment an orderly came into his room and approached the bed.
“I see you’re awake,” he said. “How do you feel?”
“Dizzy,” answered Billy. “How did I get here?” he asked. “What happened?”
“Are you sober?” the orderly asked with a grin. “You were out of it last night when your girlfriend brought you in. It looks like you have a pretty good bump on your forehead. I understand you took a header into her car door. She said her car door was worse off than you were. She was really pissed!”
“Where is she?” Billy asked.
“She stuck around here last night until you started snoring then she said, ‘Screw it, he’s just passed out drunk’, and left. She went home, I guess.”
“Oh, man!” Billy said, “I really blew it. What now? I’m screwed for sure! She’ll never come around now!”
“Hey, man,” the orderly said, “Just what’ve you got going?”
Billy looked up sharply and realized he had spoken aloud.
“Nothing,” he said, “It’s nothing. I was just mumbling, thinking out loud.”
“Sounds like something to me,” the orderly said with a knowing grin.
Billy’s face flushed red and he gruffly said, “Never mind! It’s none of your business! Where are my clothes? I’ve got to get out of here.”
The orderly stepped back at the sound of the anger in Billy’s voice and said, “I’ didn’t mean anything. I was just joking.”
“Where are my clothes,” Billy asked again.
“I don’t think you can leave. The nurse has to release you first and she won’t be in until eight o’clock.”
“You wait,” snapped Billy, “ I have to be at work at six,” and he swung out of bed. A sharp pain flashed through his left arm and he winced at it.
“I must have hurt my arm last night. Is it broken?” he asked.
“No, just bruised. We x-rayed it when you came in. The x-rays showed no fractures,” the orderly said.
“ Get my clothes,” ordered Billy in the most authoritative voice he could muster. It must have been enough because the orderly complied.
“ I’ll have to write this up, of course,” he said. “ Are you sure you are all right?”
“ I will be,” said Billy, “ As soon as I have a cup of coffee.”

Billy dressed and left, walking as briskly as he could manage in his condition. Ten minutes later, he got to his house and put on a pot of Folgers. Twelve minutes later, when the coffee had perked, he poured a cup and began to sip it. In a while he felt better. He was fully awake now and felt as if he had slept all night, not just passed out.

Suddenly he was extremely hungry. Then, right on cue, his stomach began to growl, and he broke two eggs into a skillet and put bread into the toaster. He cut a thick slab of ham and put it in next to the eggs and soon, he was enjoying a hearty breakfast and sipping hot coffee.
“ Boy,” he thought as he finished his meal, “ How good can it get!” Then reality set in and he said aloud, “ Boy, am I in a world of hurt! Ann is going to be so pissed and she’ll probably tell the chief and everyone else about last night. I’ve had it!”

Billy pondered the idea of not going in to work today. He could say he wasn’t feeling well and needed to stay home. Or he could call in and admit to what the chief would already know about last night and apologize and volunteer to take some time off without pay. He could do these things but he knew he wouldn’t. Billy may be somewhat erratic at times but no one could ever accuse him of neglecting his duty or not being responsible for his actions. He knew he would go to work and take whatever he had coming.

Billy quickly showered, shaved and got dressed for work. He had a clean uniform hanging in the closet and he put it on and brushed his shoes. He examined himself in the mirror and except for a bruise on his forehead he looked ready for anything. Then he stepped out onto the sidewalk and started walking toward town.

It was twenty minutes before six and Billy was approaching the pizza parlor on his way to the station. He was in luck. His car was still at the curb in front of the café.
“Great,” thought Billy, “At least I won’t have to walk home when I get busted by the chief.”

He climbed into the car and started it. Then he drove to the office and parked in the side parking lot. It was five ‘till six and he tried the door. It was open and he went in. Ann was at her desk and looked up as he approached her. Just then the door opened behind him and the chief entered. Billy turned to face him and said, “Good morning, Chief.”
The chief said, “Good morning Billy,” then looked at Ann and said, “ Good morning, Detective.” Ann nodded and said, “Good morning, Chief.” Then she looked at Billy and said, “ Good morning, Billy. How are you this morning?”
“O K, I guess,” Billy answered warily, not knowing yet just what to expect.

At that moment the chief turned to Billy and said,” What happened to your head? How did you get that bruise?”
Instantly Billy’s heart raced and he gulped and started to speak, but before he could say anything, Ann said, “ He was helping me change a tire and the jack slipped and he reached to try to stop it and banged his head on the door of my car. There isn’t any brain damage though, just a bruise. No brain, no brain damage.”
The chief laughed aloud and Billy said, “That’s for sure!”

The chief said, “All right, let’s go to work,” and turned away and started for his office. Billy looked at Ann and she pressed her finger against her lips in a gesture that meant ‘quiet.’ Billy was curious but happy to comply.

Billy sat at his desk scanning the crime reports, such as they were, and sipping a cup of strong coffee when the phone on his desk rang. It startled him and he jumped noticeably and stared at the phone. It rang the second time and the chief stepped through the door and looked at Billy quizzically. On the third ring, Billy picked up the phone, placed it to his ear and said,” Sheriffs’ department, Officer Thompson.” There was silence and he said,” Hello.”
A familiar voice said, “You’re out of it. You’re lucky.”
“What do you mean?” Billy asked, trying to keep the nervousness out of his voice.
There was a click on the line indicating the caller had hung up the phone.
The chief, still standing in the door of his office asked,” What was that all about?”
“I don’t know,” replied Billy. But he did know what the call meant. He knew exactly what it meant.

Billy’s stomach filled with butterflies. He felt himself redden and the hair on the back of his neck stand up. His skin crawled and he began to itch all over.
Billy stood up and took a deep breath, sucking in air deeply then blowing it out slowly. He did this twice then began to breathe more swiftly. He tried to suck in air slowly again but couldn’t.
He began to breathe more and more rapidly until he was panting as if he had ran a mile in three minutes. He leaned forward and held onto the desk. He looked as if he would crash forward at any second.
Ann looked at him the same time the chief came back into the room.
“Billy,” the chief said, “What the hell is going on?”
Ann quickly crossed the room and took Billy’s arm and forcibly shoved him into a chair. He was still breathing rapidly. Ann went into a storage room and came back with a large paper bag. She blew it out to full size and put one hand on the back of Billy’s head, and held the bag to his mouth.
“Blow in this,” she said. “You’re hyper-ventilating and you have to blow into this bag and breathe out of it.”
Billy did as he was told and soon his breathing began to subside.
Billy said, “I itch all over.” And he began to scratch his arms and chest. Billy began to mumble as he breathed in and out of the bag.
The chief asked, “What are you saying?”
Billy said, “I don’t know what will happen; I just don’t know!” He began to speak loudly and kept saying, “I don’t know what will happen; I don’t know what will happen!”

“What the hell is going on,” the chief asked again. He grabbed both of Billy’s arms roughly just as the phone rang. He jerked Billy to his feet and asked again what was going on. Ann answered the phone and listened for a moment then, holding the phone out toward Billy said, “It’s for you.”
“No, I don’t want to talk to anyone,” said Billy. He was beginning to sound almost hysterical and the Chief released his arms and stepped back with a puzzled look on his face. Billy calmed a bit when he was released from the chiefs’ grip.
“Officer Thompson, she said it’s for you.”
“No, I don’t want to talk to anyone right now,” Billy mumbled, then collapsed onto the chair.
“I think you’d better take this call,” said Ann, “It’s the fire chief.”
Billy groaned loudly and stood up and began to walk toward the door. Ann caught him before he could leave and thrust the phone at him.
“Take it!” she shouted. Billy looked at the phone for a few seconds, as if it were alive and something to fear. Finally he stepped forward and took the phone and placed it up to his ear.

“This is Officer Thompson,” he said with a shaky voice. “What is the problem?”
“You’d better come to your house,” he said, “Or what’s left of it. It looks like something blew it up. Maybe there was a gas leak.”
“All right,” Billy said quietly, “I’ll be right there.”
“What is it?” asked Ann. Billy didn’t answer. He stood up and walked toward the door. The chief stepped in front of Billy and asked what the problem was.
Billy looked at the chief and calmly said,” Move.” With a puzzled look the chief moved aside. He asked if Billy wanted him or Ann to go along with him. He said he didn’t, it wouldn’t be necessary, and he walked out the door and to his car. He started the car and drove away.

Billy slowly drove toward his house. He was puzzled but he felt calmer and more serene than he could ever remember feeling. It was as if a heavy load of which he had been completely unaware had been lifted from his shoulders. Billy drove to the corner where he would turn right to go to his house.
He stopped at the corner. He could see his house from where he was. The fire trucks and emergency vehicles were there with their lights flashing. Firemen were training their hoses on the smoldering ruins of what had once been a nice house, Billy’s nice house.

Aloud Billy said,” Everything I own was in that house. I guess there is no reason to go there now.” Then Billy turned left and drove to the highway that leads out of town. He felt free, freer than he had ever felt before. It was a strange but extremely pleasant feeling.