Vertical Burn - Earl Emerson [68]
“Heard you had some magic mushrooms for dinner,” Lieutenant Balitnikoff said.
“Extra special magic mushrooms,” said Paul, smirking.
When Finney said nothing, Michael offered an explanation. “Thompson on D-shift is dating that cop. The little spinner? She told Thompson you claim you got run off the road.”
Paul Lazenby and Balitnikoff burst into laughter. Michael, the only one of the three wearing his foul-weather coat, put his hands in his pockets and bit the inside of his cheek.
“What happened?” asked Paul. “You crash into a garbage truck and think it was your old rig?” All three of them laughed again.
Balitnikoff said, “You sure a deer didn’t jump out in front of you on the way home from the bar?”
“Maybe you got hit by a beer truck,” Paul said.
“Screw you,” Finney said.
“Hey, you were off duty, man,” Paul said, his voice growing more sympathetic. “Oh, wait a minute. You quit drinkin’, didn’t ya?”
Finney opened the door.
“No, wait, you guys,” said Michael. “I want to hear this.”
“Fuck all of you,” Finney said, walking outside.
Michael followed him, zipping up his coat. “I don’t know why they ride you like that.”
“Because they’re assholes?”
Michael chuckled. “Their main problem is they don’t know when to quit.”
Finney appraised Michael Lazenby for a moment. Though he didn’t give a rat’s ass for his older brother, Paul, he rather liked Michael, who had a boyish smile and a shock of blond hair that always looked as if it had just been rumpled. He seemed to take life as it came, while Paul tried to twist and force every circumstance to suit him. Both brothers were narcissists to the core, obsessed with building muscles and chasing women, but somehow Michael managed to make it seem like an amusing quirk, where it was just obnoxious in Paul.
“That wasn’t a bogus rumor we heard?”
“Somebody tried to run me down.”
“In a fire engine? For real?”
“That’s right.”
“Hey, if you find him and want somebody to help beat the crap out of him, I’m your man. People start using fire rigs for that sort of bullshit and we’ll all get a bad name.”
“Thanks, but that’s not going to happen.”
“Keep me on the shortlist if you change your mind. I always like to get in on a good beating.”
“Will do.”
34. HAZARDS OF THE PROFESSION
Diana and Blanchett had been working the chain saws for almost two hours, cutting through the heavy car-deck planking of the vacant pier until they’d uncovered the smoldering creosote-covered pilings where somebody, probably a lost tourist, had tossed a cigarette stub. They sawed and dug, stacking the heavy planks to one side after soaking the burned areas with a pressurized pump can. Ladder 1 and Aid 5 were the only units still on scene.
It was a three-story warehouse, longer than a football field and empty, just tin walls, a roof, and the pier below, some of which was paved and some not. Several weary firefighters sat on piles of car decking they’d torn out.
Before they were finished, Robert Kub arrived and, after inspecting the hole, removed himself from the immediate vicinity of the chain saws and lit a cigarette. A few minutes after Captain Moseby rotated personnel in the hole, Diana found Kub standing outside on the pier squinting listlessly into a southerly breeze.
“How you doin’?” Kub asked.
“I’m hot and I’m tired.” Diana laughed.
“Now watch me throw this stub down here and start another fire.” He snickered at the thought. “That’d be just like me.”
“Robert, have you been in touch with Finney?”
“John? I’ve seen him.”
“Is he all right?”
Kub exhaled loudly. “If you mean is he all right health-wise, he looks like shit. But if you mean is his life going okay, that’s pretty much shit, too.” Kub snickered again.
“The way Reese turned him down was crappy.”
“Reese needs a new head.”
“There’s a rumor going around that G. A.’s after him for starting that fire where he brought out the homeless woman. Is that true?”
“It’s true all