tequila, and watch the film in your dreams?"
"In your dreams, Carlotta. No, I even brought back the card with the times and prices of the movies. There were a couple of scenes we left on the floor, but I had plenty of time to recognize the prospector and the prostitute -- and I'm familiar with each and every mole and freckle, including that little butterfly tattoo Gwenneth's so proud of."
"Damn it, that means there was a pirated copy, and now there are apt to be thousands of illegal copies floating around. We're all contracted for a piece of the net. What are the chances this unknown distributor's going to send a check?"
"About the time we go ice skating on the corner of Hollywood and Vine," he said with a morose sigh. "So who filched the tape and sold it? What'd we have on the set -- three of us and the five actors? Hal and I did the editing ourselves. The negative's in the vault. There's no way anyone else could have gotten a copy."
"You know, Fuzzy, Anderson said something about seeing a version of Satan's Sister that contained some of the stuff we decided was too risky. It's beginning to look as though we have a full-time pirate in our midst. I'll see what I can find out before we leave for the next one."
"Did Hal try to give me the boot?"
"Oh, good Lord, no. He was really sorry to hear about your marital problem, but he said he was thrilled to work with you again."
"Like hell he did."
"Would I lie to you?"
"Would the pope take a check?"
Carlotta was smiling as she replaced the receiver.
-- ==+== --
I was on the way out of Merganser's office when I ran into Plover. He suggested coffee, and we went into the break room at the back of the barracks. While he played host, I flopped down on an ugly sofa and said, "Merganser was helpful, in a terrifying way. We agreed it wasn't arson for profit, and it doesn't look as if anyone's trying to cover up anything. If it's revenge, no one's been harmed physically or financially. That leaves us with a nut case."
Plover handed me a chipped mug and sat down across from me. "How nutty?"
I tasted the coffee and decided it might be better used to repair roads. I put the mug on the floor and said, "The profiles vary. It could be a thrill-seeker, someone who craves the excitement of the trucks roaring in and the firemen dragging out the equipment. This one, most commonly, tends to be male and starts setting fires in his teens and early twenties. Problems at home, low self-esteem, lack of appropriate positive role models, possibly with a sexual dysfunction."
"That describes our witness," Plover said flatly.
"I know, and I'm going to talk to him later today. I'll verify his explanation for being on the road and discreetly ask where he was when the other fires were discovered." I paused as I recalled Merganser's second option. "Or it may be the work of a psycho who's been starting fires out of some misguided idea that he -- or she -- is under orders from unseen powers."
"Why has he surfaced in the last month? Why hasn't he been torching abandoned buildings all along?"
"Beats me," I said, reaching for the mug and then catching myself. "There's no one new in Maggody. I guess I need to check in Emmet and Hasty."
Plover raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. "Good idea, Arly. Perhaps the fire chief can help you with the investigation."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Sergeant Innocent shrugged. "It means you can ask what's-his-name if anyone has moved to Emmet in the last two months. He looks like he'd know -- especially if it was a female."
I tried to maintain a normal tone, but I didn't have laudable success. "And what's that supposed to mean? Wade's a nice guy. He's a county extension agent and contributes a lot of free time to the volunteer fire department. He's the one that keeps tabs on the equipment, makes sure the paperwork gets done, and supervises the training sessions."
"Did Merganser tell you that firemen have been known to start fires so they can be