Time Travelers Never Die - Jack McDevitt [138]
Helen helped. It was 4:17 when they began sloshing gas around the basement. They emptied a can on the stairway and another upstairs, taking care to drench the bedroom where Victor Randall lay. They poured the rest of it on the first floor, and so thoroughly soaked the entry that David was reluctant to go near it with a lighted match. But at 4:25, they touched it off.
They retreated across the street and watched for a time. The flames cast a pale glow in the sky, and sparks floated upward. They didn’t know much about Victor Randall, but what they did know was maybe enough. He’d been a husband and father. In their photos, his wife and kids had looked happy. And he got a Viking’s funeral.
“What do you think?” asked Helen. “Will it be all right now?”
“Yeah,” Dave said. “I hope so.”
DAVE’S first act on returning to the base time, Saturday, September 21, eight days after the fire at the town house, was to destroy Victor Randall’s wallet and driver’s license.
Then he used the converter to travel to Randall’s house. He left ten thousand dollars in the mailbox.
He and Helen spent some time planning how to get the news to Shel. The Socrates event seemed like their best bet. “Do it tomorrow,” she said. “I’m going home to crash for a while. This has been too much excitement in one day for me.”
They were at his place, and she had just started for the door when they heard a car pull up. “It’s a woman,” she said archly, looking out the window. “Friend of yours?”
It was Lieutenant Lake. She was alone this time.
The doorbell rang.
“This won’t look so good,” Helen said.
“I know. You want to duck upstairs?”
She thought about it. “My car’s out there. There’d be no point.”
The bell rang again. David opened up.
“Good morning, Dr. Dryden,” said the detective. “I wonder if you can spare me a few minutes?”
“Sure. Come in, Lieutenant. Where’s your partner?”
She smiled. “We’ve been busy.” She took a deep breath. “I have a few questions for you.”
“Of course.”
Helen came into the living room, but the lieutenant did not look surprised. “Hello, Dr. Suchenko. It’s good to see you again.”
Helen nodded. “And you, Lieutenant. How are you?”
“Fine, thanks.” Lake cleared her throat and addressed Helen. “I wonder, Doctor, whether I might have a minute alone with Dr. Dryden.”
“Sure.” Helen got her jacket from the closet. “I should be on my way anyhow.” She patted Dave’s shoulder in a comradely way and let herself out.
“Doctor,” said Lake, “you’ve said you were home in bed at the time Dr. Shelborne’s home burned. Is that correct?”
“Yes. That’s right.” When she’d asked her questions before, Dave had been annoyed. Now he felt queasy. Now he was, in a sense, the perp.
“Are you sure?”
The question hung in the sunlit air. “Of course. Why do you ask?” He could read nothing in her expression.
“Someone answering your description was seen near the town house at the time of the fire.”
“It wasn’t me.” Dave immediately thought of the man at the gas station. And he’d been driving Shel’s car. With his vanity plate in front just in case anybody wasn’t paying attention.
“Okay. I wonder if you’d mind coming down to the station with me, so we can clear the matter up? Get it settled?”
“Sure. Be glad to.” They stood. “Give me a minute, okay? I need to use the washroom.”
“Certainly,” she said. There was one on the first floor, and she waited while he went into it.
He called Helen. “Don’t panic,” she said. “All you need is a good alibi.”
“I don’t have an alibi.”
“For God’s sake, Dave. You’ve got something better. You have a time machine.”
“Okay. Sure. But if I go back and set up an alibi, why didn’t I tell them the truth in the beginning?”
“Because you were protecting a woman’s reputation,” she said. “What else would