Billy's from Arizona.
So Jack says, 'Frame One, shot of house taken from south angle. August 28, 1997. West wing of house shows severe damage. Exterior walls standing but will probably have to be torn down and rebuilt. Windows blasted out. Hole in roof.'
The easiest way to the other side of the house is through the central section, so Jack lets himself in the front door.
Jack opens it and he's looking straight out at the ocean like he's going to fall into it, because there are big glass sliders with a view that stretches from Newport Beach right down to the Mexican islands to the left. Catalina Island straight ahead of you, Dana Strands just down to your left, and below that Dana Strand Beach.
And miles and miles of blue ocean and sky.
You're talking two million bucks just for the view.
The big glass door opens onto a deck about the size of Rhode Island. Below the deck is a sloping lawn, a rectangle of green in all this blue, and in the green there's another rectangle of blue, which is the swimming pool.
A brick wall borders the lawn. Trees and shrubs line the side walls, and the trees and shrubs are edged by a border of flowers. Down to the left there's a pad with a clay tennis court.
The view is totally killer but the house — even this main section that didn't burn — is a fucked-up mess. Drenched with water and the all-pervading acrid stench of smoke.
Jack takes some shots, notes the smoke and water damage on his tape, and then goes out into the yard. Takes some shots from this angle and doesn't see anything to change his mind that the fire started in the west wing, which must be the bedroom. He walks to the outside of the west wing, over to one of the windows, and carefully removes a shard of glass from the window frame.
First thing he notices is that it's greasy.
There's a thick, oily soot on the glass.
Jack makes this observation into the tape but what he doesn't speak into the record is what he's thinking. What he's thinking is that a residue on the inside of the glass can mean the presence of some kind of hydrocarbon fuel inside the house. Also, the glass is cracked into small, irregular patterns, which means it was fairly near the origin of the fire and that the fire built up fast and hot. He doesn't say any of this, either; all he says into the tape is strictly the physical details: 'Glass shows greasy, sooty residue and small-pattern crazing. Radial fracture of glass indicates that it was broken by force of fire from inside the house.'
That's all he says because that can't be argued with — the evidence is the evidence. Jack won't put his analysis or speculation on tape because if a lawsuit happens and it goes to trial, the tape will be subpoenaed, and if his voice is on there speculating on potential hydrocarbon fuel in the house, the plaintiff's lawyer will make it sound like he was prejudiced, that he was looking for evidence of arson and therefore skipped over evidence of an accidental fire.
He can just hear the lawyer: 'You were focused on the possibility of arson from Moment One, weren't you, Mr. Wade?'
'No, sir.'
'Well, you say right here on your taped notes that you thought…'
So it's better to leave your thoughts out of it.
It's sloppy work to start thinking ahead of yourself, and anyway, there could be other explanations for the oily soot. If the wood inside the room didn't burn completely, it might leave that kind of residue, or there could be any number of petroleum-based products in the house quite innocently.
Still, there's that barking dog, which is really going at it now. And the bark is not an angry bark, either, not like a dog defending its turf. It's a scared bark, more like a whine, and Jack figures the dog must be terrified. And thirsty. And hungry.
Shit, Jack thinks.
He photographs the piece of glass, labels it and puts it into a plastic evidence bag he keeps in a pocket of the overalls. Then, instead of going into the house — which is what he really wants to do — he goes to look for the dog.
8
The dog probably got out when the firemen broke in, and it's probably traumatized. The Vale kids will be worried about the dog, and anyway, maybe it'll help them feel a little better to get their dog back.
Jack kind of likes dogs.
It's people he's not so crazy about.
Nineteen years (seven with the Sheriff's, twelve with the insurance company) of cleaning up after people's accidents have taught him that people will do about anything. They'll lie, steal, cheat, kill, and litter. Dogs, however, have a certain sense of ethics.
He finds the Vales' dog hiding under the lower limbs of a jacaranda tree. It's one of those little fru-fru dogs, a house dog, all big eyes and bark.
'Hey, pup,' Jack says softly. 'It's all right.'
It isn't, but people will lie.
The dog doesn't care. The dog is just happy to see a human being and hear a friendly voice. It comes out from under the tree and sniffs Jack's hand for some kind of clue as to his identity and/or intentions.
'What's your name?' Jack asks.
Like the dog's going to answer, right? Jack thinks.
'Leo,' a voice says, and Jack about jumps out of his geeky paper overalls.
He looks up to see an older gentleman standing across the fence. A parrot sits on his shoulder.
' Leo,' the parrot repeats.
Leo starts wagging his tail.
Which is what Yorkies do for a living.
'C'mere, Leo,' Jack says. 'That's a good dog.'
He picks Leo up and tucks him under one arm, scratching the top of his head, and walks over to the fence.
He can feel Leo trembling.
There's that thing about people resembling their pets, or vice versa? Jack always thought that applied to just dogs, but the parrot and the older gentleman kind of look like each other. They both have beaks: the parrot's being pretty self-explanatory and the older gentleman's nose being shaped just like the parrot's beak. The man and the bird are like some interspecies kind of Siamese twins, except that the parrot is green with patches of bright red and yellow, and the older gentleman is mostly white.
He has white hair and wears a white shirt and white slacks. Jack can't see his shoes through the hedge, but he's betting that they're white, too.
'I'm Howard Meissner,' the old guy says. 'You must be the man from Mars.'
'Close,' Jack says. He offers his left hand because he has Leo tucked under his right. 'Jack Wade, California Fire and Life.'
'This is Eliot.'
Meaning the parrot.
Which says, ' Eliot, Eliot.'
'Pretty bird,' Jack says.
'Pretty bird, pretty bird.'
Jack guesses the parrot's heard the 'pretty bird' bit before.
'A shame about Pamela,' Meissner says. 'I saw the stretcher go out.'
'Yeah.'
Meissner's eyes get watery.
He reaches over the fence to pet Leo and says, 'It's all right, Leo. You did your best.'
