of the shear wall again; it looked like some slow-moving, phosphorescent waterbug. Then he spotted Quantrell and his cameraman running up the terrazzo steps to the lobby.
Quantrell must have been counting the loads and realized that Leroux was in this one. They’d catch Leroux as he stepped out of the elevator, still dressed-in evening clothes-a perfect contrast to the pajama-clad, weary and frightened-looking tenants whom Quantrell had probably already photographed in the basement lunchroom.
Infantino drained the last of his coffee. He could care less about what Leroux and Quantrell would have to say to each other. He’d read about it in the morning paper or watch it on the six-o’clock news tomorrow night.
The wind began to pick up again; the combination of sleet and snow pelted him like tiny little darts. He shivered, wanting desperately to go home. He thought of bed; and Doris’ warmth beside him.
Another hour, he thought, perhaps in another hour …
CHAPTER 44
David Lencho rubbed his gloved hand against his turnout coat and swore quietly. The burn wasn’t that bad, but it would be several days before it healed properly. The reddened skin hurt and the salved edges of the burn itself were beginning to itch. Probably an allergy to the ointment; he had a history of them as far back as he could remember.
The fire had only blackened part of the sixteenth floor, that portion of it directly beneath the original site of the fire on seventeen.
Lencho and Fuchs and some of the other men under Captain Miller’s command were going through the corridor with pulldown hooks and pry bars, pulling away charred paneling and ripping up sections of scorched carpeting, searching for any lingering traces of the fire. When they found any glowing embers, a man with one-inch hose soaked them out of existence.
Mark Fuchs, just behind Lencho in the corridor, flashed his electric lantern around the hall, making sure they didn’t stumble over any debris. The men before them had pulled down partitions, chopped through studding, and stripped off wallpaper looking for the last remnants of the fire. Fuchs occasionally spoke into his walky-talky, giving a progress report to Captain Miller on the landing.
The air stank of fire, Lencho thought. The particular acrid quality of burned wood and cloth and seared metal.
The hall itself, except for the beam from Fuchs’s lantern, was completely dark. Occasionally they passed an office with a battered door hanging on a hinge or leaning against a wall. He could see the night through the office windows, a framed portrait in deep blacks and purples with flakes of snow whirling past the glass. He rubbed again at his blistered hand.
“You pick up more burns than any rookie I know,” Fuchs said. It was a flat statement, not a jibe; Lencho caught the irritation behind it.
“It could happen to anybody,” he protested.
“I know, but it always seems to happen to you.”
They moved cautiously down the corridor, constantly searching for smoldering sparks and embers. The previous cleanup crew had done a good job, Lencho thought; the floor seemed almost completely clean, except for an occasional glow that had rekindled after the other team had been through.
The corridor dead-ended and Fuchs said, “That wall marks the utility core; we’ve covered the whole floor.” He thumbed his walky-talky, then hesitated a moment. “Did you check that mop closet?”
He pointed at the last door on the corridor.
“Probably a utility room,” Lencho said. “I’ll take care of it.”
Fuchs spoke into the -walky-talky. “Captain Miller?
Mark Fuchs-it looks like sixteen is completely cl-” Lencho reached the door and turned the knob. He screamed suddenly in agony. The metal knob was incredibly hot. He pulled his hand back; part of the glove and the skin from the palm of his hand lay crisping on the knob. But the twist Lencho had given the knob was enough. The door swung open. There was an explosion.
The utility room was directly under the two heavy fire loadings on the floor above.
It hadn’t caught fire but the heat from above had driven the oxygen off. Stored waxes and solvents had burst their containers, then vaporized in the oxygenless, superheated air. The door was remarkably tight. Very little air from the corridor had seeped into the intensely fuel-rich atmosphere. Nor had the room been cooled appreciably by the hosing of the corridor outside.
For a Moment there was no sound but that of tile falling from the overhead ceiling, then the muffled sound of debris falling into the utility core itself where the explosion had ripped out the rear wall of the storage room. A quiet hissing followed and’then abruptly … a second, louder explosion.
The corridor immediately filled with steam.
CHAPTER 45
Thank God, Leroux thought, it was the last load. The two men who had assisted in handling the evacuees had gone down the time before, leaving him, Thelma, Quinn, Jenny, and a scattering of the kitchen help-enough to actually overcrowd the small, scenic elevator.
Suddenly one of the woman diners turned to Quinn. “I thought Harvey was in here,” she said, panic in her voice.
“He was with me until just a few minutes ago!” Leroux remembered both of them-a woman in her fifties who had been having dinner along with her teenage son.”The boy had made a pig Of himself on the free wine and it suddenly occurred to Leroux where he was. He motioned to Quinn. and they stepped back in the foyer for a moment.
“He’s probably in the john,” Leroux said in a low voice. “Too much Wine; he won’t be ready to leave for a few minutes yet.”
She bit her lip. “Mr. Leroux-when he comes back, there’s no way we can squeeze him into the elevator.
We’re overloaded as it is.”
Leroux swore to himself. “All right, I’ll stay behind and wait for him.”
Quinn shook her head. “I don’t think that would be practical.
Neither your wife nor Jenny will leave without you. For all three of you to stay behind is ridiculous. I’ll wait for the boy.”
“I can’t let you do that, Quinn.”
“Why not?” She looked irritated. “Because I’m a woman? That’s ridiculous. We both know we’re in -no danger up here, even if the others don’t. If we were we would certainly have known . by now.
Don’t be foolish; go on down and I’ll join you in another ten minutes.”
She laughed shortly. “I’ll get some soda from the kitchen; the boy will need something to settle his stomach.”
“All right, Quinn; you’re the boss.” He stepped back inside the elevator cage, and told the woman that her son would come down with Quinn in the next load, then he pressed the button for the doors to close before she could object. A moment later he felt the descent begin.
He started to relax.”He had made up his mind what to say to the reporters-which was nothing at all-and now he was anxious to get it over with.
“You can see the whole city below,” Thelma said quietly to Jenny.
They were all standing by the glass side of the cage. “With the snow falling, it looks like a jeweled fairyland.”
“It’s beautiful,” Jenny agreed.
Leroux put his hand gently on his wife’s shoulder.
There would be investigations later that would be hard for him to take. He would need Thelma then more than he ever had. Suddenly he felt a sense of shame. He had kept her out of so much of his life. It hadn’t been fair to her-or to him.
They were almost halfway down now; he could make out the ground below through the swirling snow. A few moments more and they would be in the lobby. And the ordeal would begin.
