- Smoke
“Why?”
“Why what?”
Martina Gainor was a pretty brunette in her late teens, with Hispanic roots but English upbringing. He wasn't used to interrogating teenage girls – he didn't feel like he could use his normal tactics with her.
“Why did you do it?”
She shrugged, “I'm not saying I did.”
They hadn't had any leads until a couple of days ago, when forensics had finally got a match on the fingerprint they had found on a lighter. TV shows didn't know what they were talking about – forensics always took a lot longer than any CSI episode showed.
They had found the lighter a few yards away from the house, behind a bush. There was nothing left of the house to examine – just like the other three before it.
Really, they were lucky they had her prints on file, otherwise she would have walked – at least until they figured out the pattern she used.
All psychopaths use patterns. She was seventeen, but she was a psychopath. He had to remember that.
They hadn't had any leads until a couple of days ago, when forensics had finally got a match on the fingerprint they had found on a lighter. TV shows didn't know what they were talking about – forensics always took a lot longer than any CSI episode showed.
They had found the lighter a few yards away from the house, behind a bush. There was nothing left of the house to examine – just like the other three before it.
Really, they were lucky they had her prints on file, otherwise she would have walked – at least until they figured out the pattern she used.
All psychopaths use patterns. She was seventeen, but she was a psychopath. He had to remember that.
“You realise this is enough to send you to prison, Martina?”
She tilted her head to one side, slight smile twisting its way onto her face, but said nothing.
This girl, only slightly older than his own daughter, already had a reputation as a troublemaker. Petty thefts, some vandalism, not much, but enough for them to have her details and her fingerprints. He was just glad forensics hadn't screwed up.
“Did you have anyone help you start the fire?”
“Did you have anyone help you start the fire?”
She smirked at him, leaning back in her chair, arms crossed, typical teenager, “No. I don't need anyone else to do anything for me.”
Four houses destroyed, burnt to ashes. No one had been hurt, but it was only a matter of time, and the chief was pressuring them to close this case. They had gone through everything they had, but there had been no evidence of anything. Until they found the lighter.
“What did you use?”
“You searched my house, didn't you? You tell me.”
Petrol and a lighter. Stupidly simple but extremely effective. And damn difficult to prove, in this situation, even once they had got the search warrant, which had taken long enough – it seems judges don't appreciate getting calls before nine in the morning.
“An empty gasoline container from your father's petrol station was found in your room, a lighter from the corner store was found near one of the crime scenes. You got an older boy to buy it for you, didn't you?”
“Wayne. I actually just stole it from him. I didn't need a new one.”
She was being cooperative. That wasn't a good sign, not so early in the interrogation.
“We have witnesses that put you at the scene of the crime, every time.”
She uncrossed her arms and leant forward again, elbows resting on the table, hands together.
“What you have is all circumstantial. You have witnesses,” she scoffed, “that can tell you I was seen walking the street outside the houses. That's normal – I live in the area.”
She counted using her right hand. Thumb.
“My dad leaves containers around the house all the time. My mother uses some to keep plants in. I once kept a bunch of goldfish in one for weeks, until my mother noticed me trying to flush one of them down the loo when it died. Besides, if it was empty, then you can't prove there was ever gasoline in it.”
Index.
“Ask any person my age – getting lighters isn't difficult. I got mine off Wayne, who is being nice to me because he's interested in me. I threw the lighter away on my way home from school one afternoon because it was empty. You don't know whether that was before or after that house went up in flames.”
“My dad leaves containers around the house all the time. My mother uses some to keep plants in. I once kept a bunch of goldfish in one for weeks, until my mother noticed me trying to flush one of them down the loo when it died. Besides, if it was empty, then you can't prove there was ever gasoline in it.”
Index.
“Ask any person my age – getting lighters isn't difficult. I got mine off Wayne, who is being nice to me because he's interested in me. I threw the lighter away on my way home from school one afternoon because it was empty. You don't know whether that was before or after that house went up in flames.”
She had a point. They didn't have any damning evidence. He had just hoped she didn't know that.
“Do you know the Johnsons?”
“Do you know the Johnsons?”
“Their son Liam, goes to my school.”
“So you knew they would be out of town that weekend?”
Another jeering laugh, “Of course I did. Liam had been bragging about this trip to Rome for weeks. Everyone in school knew.”
“Do you know the Ainsworth family?”
She shook her head, “Not like that. I knew they run the bowling alley, but that's it.”
“Where were you on the 17th September around 7pm?”
“You have a time, do you? Nnice. The 17th was a Friday, wasn't it?”
“Yes.”
“I was with Wayne. You can ask, he'll confirm it.”
He was really starting to dislike this girl.
“And the night of the 23rd?”
“I dunno. In bed?” She rolled her eyes, “Thursday is a school night.”
“People say you had a fight with Ashley Stanton, is that correct?”
“Damn right we had a fight. The bitch was going after my boyfriend.”
“Wayne?”
“No way. Mitch.”
“Mitchell Evanson? Third house?”
“That's right. Why would I burn down my own boyfriend's house?”
To cover her tracks, to throw off suspicion, to get revenge for something he didn't know about – teenage boy, probably cheated on her or broke up with her. A woman scorned can do crazy things.
He put the file down on the table, placing his pen next to it and brought his hands up to rest his chin on them.
She raised an eyebrow at him, but neither broke the silence.
“You're clever, Martina. Very clever.”
She raised an eyebrow at him, but neither broke the silence.
“You're clever, Martina. Very clever.”
She was slouching slightly in the chair, “Yes, I am.”
“I'm impressed, really, I am. But you wouldn't do something like this for fun, no, at least not at first. You would do it for revenge.”
She had a small smile on her face, but her eyes were narrowed.
“No, I got something wrong, didn't I? It's definitely revenge, but that's not what you started with. Especially because you made sure nobody was home when you set the houses alight.”
“No, I got something wrong, didn't I? It's definitely revenge, but that's not what you started with. Especially because you made sure nobody was home when you set the houses alight.”
She crossed her arms again.
“You lit the first fire to throw suspicion off the Evanson fire. The second one was just for fun. The third was the Evansons' house, the real one. And the fourth?”
“You lit the first fire to throw suspicion off the Evanson fire. The second one was just for fun. The third was the Evansons' house, the real one. And the fourth?”
He raised an eyebrow back at her.
“What was the fourth one for, Martina?”
“What was the fourth one for, Martina?”
She stared at him for a long moment before replying.
“Because it looks pretty.”
“What?”
“The fire. It's pretty. The way it eats up everything in its path, no master, nothing can control it. But I can.”
“You set fire to those houses?”
“Of course I did. Do you think anyone else had a reason to?”
That was a confession. He didn't need anything else to charge her. But he was curious.
“Why?”
“Why?”
“To watch the smoke. It curls upwards if you've got nothing to hide. It stays in the house much longer if you're burning something that shouldn't be there.”
“What wasn't supposed to be there?”
“Let's just say Mitch had stolen something from me that he didn't deserve.”
They took her away.
They took her away.
As she was put in handcuffs and escorted out of the room, she turned her head and grinned at him. He couldn't help but shudder at the triumph that smirk held.
She would be convicted of arson and held in a juvenile detention centre until she was old enough to go to prison. He hoped that being sent there would deter her from going back to crime, instead of giving her the means to network.
Now, they only needed to talk to Mitchell Evanson.
He had a feeling they weren't going to find him – he was known for not coming home for weeks. Nobody ever knew where he went.
If he got caught in the fire, they would never be able to single out his DNA.
Nice, but I don't like Martina, she's a very stupid arsonist. Seriously, she lights houses on fire because the fire is pretty... At least do something for a reason you stupid person!
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