‘Thank you,’ said Joe.
‘Not a problem,’ said Johnson.
‘Yeah – thanks,’ said Danny. ‘Let’s get the hell out of here.’
Joe paused to look up through the shattered ceiling. He shook his head slowly.
They made their way through the basement door into the heat of Willow Street and crowds of firefighters, police and EMS crews, standing around between fire trucks, squad cars and ambulances. They were led to the back of an ambulance where they were checked over by an EMT.
‘You should really go to the hospital,’ she said.
‘No thank you,’ said Joe.
The fire marshal walked over to them. ‘Taye Harris. How you doing?’
‘Not doing too bad,’ said Danny, shaking dust out of his hair.
More firefighters gathered around them.
‘What happened?’ said Harris.
Joe shrugged. ‘We were inside, questioning a victim… he disappears, we go looking for him down in the basement.’
‘I flicked a light switch,’ said Danny, ‘then, bam.’
‘Looks like it was a BLEVE,’ said Harris.
‘Blevy?’
‘Boiling Liquid Expanding Vapour Explosion,’ said the marshal. ‘Something was rigged in there, we’ll know more later. See – the third floor there – the one window above the front door.’
Danny frowned. ‘What?’
Harris pointed. ‘We call the basement the first floor. Next floor up is the second floor or parlor floor where the front door is and see, above that is the third floor.’
‘Right, I see,’ said Danny.
‘Well, the roofman says he thinks the explosion came from the equivalent room to the rear of the building. You were lucky the fire was so contained,’ said Harris. ‘If that had gotten into the cockloft, it would have run to the front and taken off. I think what happened was something shorted in the basement.’
Danny breathed out.
‘You know what we call that room?’ said Harris. ‘With the bay window? It’s small, there’s usually only one way out and in a fire where there’s no access to the interior stairs, you’re trapped. We call it the dead man’s room.’
Rufo jogged over to them, his small hands clenched. ‘What are you doing, Lucchesi, bullshitting here – get to the hospital, the both of you.’
‘We’re not going to the hospital,’ said Joe. ‘We’re fine. A few cuts and bruises, that’s it. I’ll fill out a Line of Duty injury report-’
‘Yeah, when you get back from the hospital. I’m not giving you the option,’ said Rufo. ‘Look at you, you’re covered in crap. You don’t know what’s under there. You can’t see shit.’
‘I think I’d know if I’d been hit by something,’ said Joe.
‘Me too,’ said Rufo.’ Cos it would have knocked some sense into you. Now, go. To the hospital. Now.’
Joe and Danny looked at each other. ‘Fine. OK. I’ll drive,’ said Joe.
‘Thanks, guys,’ he said to the firefighters.
‘I’ll be in touch when I know more,’ said Harris.
‘Here’s my card,’ said Joe.
Danny and Joe went to the ER at Long Island College Hospital and were given the all-clear by a doctor within ten minutes. They washed their faces in the men’s room and were in Cody’s on Court Street within an hour and a half of being dragged out from under Preston Blake’s work bench.
Joe knocked back a shot of vodka. ‘What the fuck was that about back there?’ he said. ‘ My partner is not breathing.’
‘What if it was true?’ said Danny. ‘What if that fucking ceiling fell down on your head and killed you and you left a young son and a pregnant wife behind you?’ He stared at Joe. ‘Ain’t you happy to be alive?’
Joe stared back.
‘Weren’t you a few seconds away from being a dead man?’ said Danny. ‘How did it feel not to breathe?’
‘Jesus, Danny.’
Joe watched his partner. He was paler than he’d ever seen him, his face a sheen of sweat. His eyes were running all over the room.
‘Yeah, well…’ said Danny. He drank from his beer, his fingers almost straight, to take the pressure off his bloody knuckles. ‘This is all the medical treatment I need today.’ He ordered another beer.
‘I was thinking about him. Or her. When I was in there…’ said Joe.
‘Who?’
‘The baby.’
‘Good,’ said Danny. He raised his bottle and hit it off Joe’s second glass of vodka. ‘Cheers.’
‘Cheers.’
‘So,’ said Danny. ‘You still going along to the benefit tomorrow tonight?’
‘I’m tired,’ said Joe. ‘But, yeah. For a few hours. Cullen’s a good guy. And, you know, I got my tux altered.’
‘Split the seams again…’
‘An inward alteration, actually.’
‘Inward.’ Danny shook his head. His hand trembled as he raised his beer to his mouth. ‘You want to know what I was thinking about when I was in there?’
‘What?’ said Joe.
‘The rule of nines.’
Joe frowned. ‘What? The burns thing?’
‘Yeah, that diagram of the body to work out the – what is it? – TSA? Total Surface Area of burns. With all the different sections marked out with percentages? I couldn’t get it out of my head when I was in there, when I smelled the flames. The head and the arms are nine per cent each. The front of the torso and the back are eighteen per cent each. The legs are eighteen per cent each…’
‘Yeah?’ said Joe slowly.
‘Know what that adds up to?’ said Danny. ‘Ninety-nine per cent.’
Joe nodded. ‘And?’
‘Do you know what’s the remaining one per cent?’
Joe started to smile.
‘Yeah,’ said Danny. ‘Your… genitalia. I’m lying there in the dark and I’m thinking my nuts could go up in flames at any minute. And I’d be marked off in the hospital as having one per cent burns and, you know, my prognosis mightn’t be too bad.’
Danny’s face was so serious, Joe was afraid to laugh.
‘But that’s not what was freaking me out,’ said Danny. ‘I was thinking – one per cent for such a huge part of my life. The centre of my fucking universe. The source of my marital problems. And, obviously, some of my marital happiness. But I’m, like, it could all be over, just like that. And I was thinking of Gina and all the grief from this one per cent and-’
‘Excuse me for just one second,’ said Joe, holding up a hand. He walked across the floor to the men’s room, opened the door of the stall, pushed it closed and laughed silently until tears streamed down his face.
He walked back out and Danny was sitting in the same position, frowning. ‘One Line. One per cent. One year on, still no answers. One life. It’s a small word – one. And it can mean so fucking much.’
‘One deep and meaningful detective,’ said Joe. ‘Right. I need to call Anna.’ He dialled Anna’s cell. He got voicemail. ‘Honey, it’s me. Me and Danny got caught in a building collapse earlier. I’m just calling to say I’m OK, I got checked out at the hospital. I’m fine. Sorry I’m leaving this on your voicemail. See you later. Love you.’
He turned to Danny. ‘OK – has your life finished flashing before your eyes? Are you fit to work?’
Danny nodded and knocked back the last of his beer. They lasted an hour back at the office before they both
