I ducked under the yellow tape and walked through the open front door.
“Hello?” I yelled.
Jeremy Gorden looked down at me from the second floor. “Oh God,” he said. “It’s you.”
“This wasn’t my fault,” I said to him.
“I know. I know,” he said. “It’s never your fault.”
“My coworker Lula lives in the second-floor apartment. Is it safe for her to come up?”
“Yes. Be careful on the stairs. They’re slippery.”
Lula, Bob, and I joined Jeremy on the second floor and Lula stepped into the charred mess that was her apartment.
“It looks to me like it started with a small incendiary device in the living room,” Jeremy said.
“So, this is arson,” I said. “How did the device get into her apartment?”
Jeremy shrugged. “I don’t know. My guess is someone broke in and set the device on the floor. No way to know for sure because the door was destroyed by the firefighters.”
Lula went to her closet. “Where’s all my clothes?” she asked. “There’s no clothes in here. No shoes. No nothing. There’s not even any clothes ashes.”
“No one has been in here as far as I can tell,” Jeremy said. “The tape was intact when I got here this morning.”
“My clothes are missing,” Lula said. “Someone stole my clothes and set my apartment on fire. I know who it was too. It was Grendel.”
“Who’s Grendel?” Jeremy asked.
“He’s an ogre and a demon,” Lula said. “He’s got an obsession with me, and he has anger-management issues. Usually, he lays waste to the mead hall, but lately he’s been stalking me.”
“The Mead Hall? Is that a new bar?” Jeremy asked.
“It’s in Denmark,” Lula said. “Its official name is Heorot, and it’s the seat of King Hrothgar’s rule. You’d know all about this if you played Beowulf.”
Jeremy looked at me and grimaced. “Okay then,” he said. “I guess that solves the mystery. I have to file my report. The structure seems safe. I’m going to have the tape removed. The department will get in touch with the rest of the tenants.”
“Thanks,” I said to Jeremy. “Have a good rest of the day.”
“Hunh,” Lula said when Jeremy disappeared down the stairs. “He didn’t believe me.”
“No one believes you.”
“Stupid Grendel,” Lula said.
“Here’s the plan,” I said to her. “It’s Sunday, but I have a key to the office, so you’re going to get your car and drive it to the office. Then you’re going to call one of those fire restoration companies and make arrangements for them to clean up your apartment. I’m sure they work on Sunday. Then you’re going to call your insurance company and ask to have an appraiser show up before the restoration people get there. Then you’re going to figure out where you’ll live until your apartment is okay.”
“What about Grendel?”
“Leave him another note. Tell him you want your clothes back.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea. I need a pen and a sticky pad.”
“One thing at a time,” I said.
Ranger called.
“It looks like you’re checking out Lula’s building,” he said. “How bad is it?”
“The fire was mostly limited to Lula’s apartment. Her apartment is trashed. The rest of the house has water and smoke damage. Jeremy said it was arson.”
“Did you bring anyone back with you?”
“I left Duncan Dugan in Maine, but I brought Nutsy back with me. It was his choice. He’s currently camped out at my place, along with Lula.”
“Have you informed Plover that Nutsy is in town?”
“No.”
There was silence on the other end.
“Are you smiling?” I asked him.
“Maybe a little,” he said.
Lula went to get her car out of the building’s parking area, and I drove to the office. It’s always weird for me to open the office. It’s Connie’s job. She’s supposed to be there when I arrive. The coffee is supposed to be waiting for me. The doughnuts are supposed to be waiting for me. The lights are supposed to be on.
Lula arrived a few minutes after I unlocked the door and switched the lights on.
“This is weird,” she said. “This isn’t right. Connie is supposed to be here. This feels wrong.”
My phone buzzed. It was Connie.
“I just heard about the fire at Lula’s apartment building,” she said. “Are you in Maine? Did you hear about the fire? Are you in Trenton?”
“We’re in Trenton. We rolled in late last night. The fire trucks were getting ready to leave when we got there. It was a real punch in the gut for Lula.”
“Was she able to get in to see the damage?”
“The building was crime taped, so Lula spent the night with me. We went through it this morning. Her apartment is a mess. The structure is still there but everything is charred.”
“What about the rest of the building?”
“Water and smoke damage. We’re at the office. She needs to call her insurance company.”
“That’s horrible. I know she loved her apartment. I’m coming to the office. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.”
“Connie is coming in,” I said to Lula.
“That’s real nice of her,” Lula said. “She makes better coffee than you.”
Ten minutes later Connie arrived.
“I got a lot to do,” Lula said to Connie. “Stephanie has a list for me, but I’m all flummoxed and I can’t remember anything.”
“Pull a chair up to my desk,” Connie said. “I’ll help you.”
God bless Connie.
“I’m heading out,” I said. “Let me know if you hear from Grendel.”
I drove by the Manley house. Nothing happening there. No Yamaha parked in the driveway. The next drive-by was Duncan’s house on Faucet Street. No sign of life at number 72. Two blocks away I stopped in front of Sissy’s house. I sat for a couple minutes and drove around the block to the alley entrance. I took the alley and paused in front of Sissy’s garage. The garage door was open, and the garage was empty. Sissy was probably out with the Kia Rio. Nutsy’s Yamaha wasn’t parked in Sissy’s yard.
Curiosity took me to Plover’s Jewelry next. I cruised down King Street and parked a block from Plover’s store. Bob and I got out and walked down the street. Even on a Sunday, it was a fairly busy section of town. Four blocks of office buildings interspersed with stores and restaurants. A middle school was one block over. Panhandlers hung out on corners, but I didn’t see any hard-core drug users or dealers. At least none who were lying on the ground in an overdose or peddling heroin by shouting out sale prices.
I paused in front of Plover’s and looked at the window displays. I caught a glimpse of the security guard through the front door. He was armed and in uniform, looking very official. A narrow alley ran down one side of Plover’s and connected with the service alley behind the store. Bob and I turned at the corner and walked down the service alley. It was standard fare. Employee parking, dumpsters, and loading zones. Not attractive, but I didn’t have to kick rats out of my way either. We returned to King Street, and I tried to imagine the robbery. According to the police report, Duncan ran out of the store, ran half a block, and jumped into his car and sped away. When the police finally stopped him, he didn’t have the bag of jewelry. He said he dropped it as soon as he got out of the store, but the bag was never found. There were people on the sidewalk when Duncan ran out. One of them could have taken the bag, but there were problems with that theory. The police were immediately on the scene. People were detained and questioned. No one saw anyone make off with the big black garbage bag full of jewelry.