Killing the Blues - Michael Brandman [42]
“He has.”
“Congratulations. What’s the show?”
“An all-day rock concert, of course. I booked a whole bunch of bands. July fourth. The high school stadium. The show will start at three o’clock and go for as long as it goes.”
“Not past eleven o’clock,” Jesse said.
“More likely until two or three.”
“Not past eleven o’clock.”
“What do you mean?”
“Curfew,” Jesse said.
“Curfew ?”
“Eleven p.m. Town law. You could look it up.”
“Why didn’t you mention this before?”
“You never asked.”
“That’s awful,” she said.
“Not for the people who live near the stadium,” Jesse said.
“Do you think Uncle Carter could get an exception?”
“Not while I’m around.”
“Couldn’t you look the other way?”
“I don’t think you should be asking me that question,” Jesse said.
“But this changes everything.”
“Why?”
“Because concerts like this don’t generally end until well after midnight.”
“This one will.”
“People might not want to attend a concert that ends so early.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s when things really start happening.”
“You’ll have to stop the music at eleven,” Jesse said.
“Do you realize how important this is to me, Jesse,” Alexis said.
“I do.”
“And you won’t bend the rules? Even for me?”
“No,” Jesse said.
“How can you be so intransigent?”
Jesse didn’t say anything.
“What if we don’t stop?”
“I’ll have to stop it for you.”
Alexis looked at Jesse. She put down her drink and stood up.
“You don’t give an inch, do you?”
“Not where the law is concerned,” Jesse said.
“And where I’m concerned?”
“I’ve told you where I stand.”
“You stand alone,” she said, and left.
45
Rollo set the fire in a garbage can that he had taken from a neighboring house. He had lined the can with pieces of newspaper and had added a bundle of kindling wood that he had purchased at the market. He emptied nearly an entire can of lighter fluid over the paper and the wood. He lit it, then melted into the shadows to await the results.
The fire burned for twenty or so minutes before there was any response. Then a silver Chevy sedan pulled up alongside the burning can. A man got out of the sedan and opened the trunk. He grabbed a fire extinguisher and began to spray it on the fire.
Rollo came out of hiding and approached the man from behind. He knew that the man was part of the night patrol on the lookout for the dog killer. He assumed the man was a police officer.
Before the man could react, Rollo grabbed his head in both of his hands and violently twisted it until he heard the man’s neck break.
Then he let go, and the man fell to the ground. Rollo watched him die.
Afterward he dragged the man back to his vehicle. He lifted him up and put him inside.
Then he reached inside and popped the Chevy’s gas tank cover. He walked to the side of the car and unscrewed the cap.
He placed a string of twisted toilet paper inside the gas tank and unrolled the paper until it stretched to a fair distance away from the car. He doused the paper with lighter fluid. He lit the end of the paper, and as it began to burn its way toward the gas tank, Rollo ran from the car.
He had reached the street corner when he heard the explosion. He turned back in time to see a massive ball of flame erupting from the car. He could feel the heat.
He hugged the shadows and got away as fast as he could.
Jesse was watching the old-movie channel when the phone rang. The movie was The Graduate, and it was just getting to the part where Ben disrupted Elaine’s wedding.
“Shit,” he said, and answered the phone.
“Jesse, it’s Rich. We’ve got a situation.”
By the time Jesse got to the scene, the fire had been extinguished. The charred remains of the car were still smoldering.
Mickey Kurtz was watching the smoke rise. Rich Bauer stood with him. Jesse walked over to them.
“We’ve got a body here, Jesse,” Kurtz said.
“Who,” Jesse said.
“Steve Lesnick was on patrol with me tonight,” Bauer said.
“We can’t make any positive identification yet,” Kurtz said. “But in all likelihood it’s Steve.”
Jesse stepped away and took a moment to collect himself. He walked to