Daddy's Gone a Hunting by Mary Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online

authority, and he instinctively felt that even though neither of the men was in uniform, both were in law enforcement.
    “She’s right there,” the superintendent said, pointing to the young woman with the dark glasses. “She must have just come in.”
    “Oh, for heaven’s sake, they’re here already. You didn’t even get a chance to get something to eat,” the redhead said, her voice low.
    The other young woman’s voice sounded faltering and resigned as she said, “Jessie, whether they come now or later, there’s no difference. Whether they believe it or not, I can’t add a single thing to what I told them this morning.”
    What is this about? Mark wondered as the elevator door opened and side by side, he, the two women, and the two men got into it.

14

    F ire Marshals Frank Ramsey and Nathan Klein had been on duty at their desks in Fort Totten in Queens when they received the early-morning phone call about the fire at the Connelly complex in Long Island City. They had rushed to it to find squads from two companies battling the flames. The fact that two people had barely escaped the building after the explosion suggested that others might have been trapped inside, even at that unusual hour. At that time they could not tell if Gus Schmidt had managed to crawl out on his own before he died. When they learned that the one survivor had been rushed to Manhattan Midtown Hospital, they immediately followed, hoping to be able to interview her. She was already in surgery, and her sister and the plant manager had no idea why she had gone to the complex.
    The marshals had returned to the fire and then changed into the gear they always carried in their car. After they had battled the flames for four hours, the fire was finally extinguished and it became clear that no one else had been in any of the buildings. The back wall of the museum had been the first to collapse, but by then the searchers had gotten out of the conflagration.
    Ramsey and Klein, their heavy boots protecting them from the heat of the scorched remains of the complex, methodically searched for the source of the fire.
    The first eyewitness, a watchman from a neighboring warehouse, had come running over at the sound of the explosion and verified that the flames were originally shooting straight up from the museum. The fact that its back wall had collapsed was the second clue that it was there that the fire had started.
    Next was the painstaking search for evidence of causation, including possible arson.
    By eleven o’clock on Thursday morning, Marshals Ramsey and Klein had found a partially unscrewed gas pipe that had leaked gas into the museum. The wall that had fallen had covered the remains of the charred outlet that had the wires exposed. The two veteran fire marshals did not need to look any further. The fire was of an incendiary nature and had been deliberately set.
    Before they could finalize their crime report, Jack Worth, the plant manager, had arrived on the scene.

15

    W hen he drove into what had been the Connelly complex, Jack Worth was shocked at the amount of destruction. Even though it was a cold, damp day, a crowd of onlookers, kept at a distance by lines of yellow tape, were watching as firefighters continued to walk through the rubble, their heavy boots protecting them from the heat of the cluttered ruins. The hoses they were holding sent forceful gallons of water onto the smoldering pockets throughout the wreckage. Jack pushed his way to the front and caught the attention of a policeman who was on guard to keep anyone from slipping through the ropes. When Jack identified himself, he was taken to see one of the fire marshals, Frank Ramsey.
    Ramsey did not waste his words. “I know we spoke to you at the hospital and I’d like to verify a few of the statements you made. How long have you been working here?”
    “Over thirty years. I have an accounting degree from Pace University and was hired as an assistant bookkeeper.” Anticipating