‘We got not a clue as to point of origin or cause,’ she continued, ‘but it’s believed that the owner, Kenneth Sparkes, the newspaper tycoon, was inside the house and did not get out. Which is why we got the doc here.’
McGovern looked straight at me with piercing eyes that did not miss much.
‘What makes us think he was home at the time?’ I asked.
‘For one thing, he seems to be MIA. And a Mercedes burned up in the back. We haven’t run the tags yet but assume it’s probably his,’ a fire investigator answered. ‘And the farrier who shoes his horses was just here two days before the fire, on Thursday, the fifth, and Sparkes was home then and the farrier didn’t say that he indicated he was headed out somewhere.’
‘Who took care of his horses when he was out of town?’ I asked.
‘We don’t know,’ McGovern said.
‘I’d like the farrier’s name and number,’ I said.
‘No problem. Kurt?’ she said to one of her investigators.
‘Sure. I got it.’ He flipped pages in a spiral notebook, his young hands big and rough from years of work.
McGovern grabbed bright blue helmets out of another compartment and began tossing them around as she reminded individuals of their assignments.
‘Lucy, Robby, Frank, Jennifer, you’re in the hole with me. Bill, you’re general assignment, and Mick’s going to help him, since this is Bill’s first NRT.’
‘Lucky you.’
‘Ohhh, a virgin.’
‘Give me a break, man,’ said the agent named Bill. ‘It’s my wife’s fortieth birthday. She’ll never speak to me again.’
‘Rusty’s in charge of the truck,’ McGovern resumed. ‘Marino and the doc are here as needed.’
‘Had Sparkes been receiving any threats?’ Marino asked, because it was his job to think murder.
‘You know about as much as we do at this point,’ the fire investigator named Robby said.
‘What’s this about this alleged witness?’ I asked.
‘We got that through a telephone call,’ he explained. ‘A male, he wouldn’t leave his name, and it was an out-of-the-area call, so we got no idea. Got no idea if it’s legit.’
‘But he said he heard the horses as they were dying,’ I persisted.
‘Yeah. Screaming like humans.’
‘Did he explain how he might have been close enough to have heard that?’ I was getting upset again.
‘Said he saw the fire from the distance and drove in for a closer look. Says he watched for maybe fifteen minutes and then got the hell out of Dodge when he heard the fire trucks.’
‘Now I didn’t know that and it bothers me,’ Marino said ominously. ‘What he’s saying is consistent with the response time. And we know how much these squirrels like to hang around and watch their fires burn. Got any idea about race?’
‘I didn’t talk to him more than thirty seconds,’ Robby answered. ‘But he had no discernible accent. Was soft-spoken and very calm.’
There was silence for a pause as everyone processed their disappointment in not knowing who this witness was, or if he had been genuine. McGovern went on with her roster of who was doing what this day.
‘Johnny Kostylo, our beloved ASAC in Philly, will be working the media and local bigwigs, like the mayor of Warrenton, who’s already been calling because he doesn’t want his town to look bad.’
She glanced up from her clipboard, scanning our faces.
‘One of our auditors is on his way,’ she went on. ‘And Pepper will be showing up shortly to help us out.’
Several agents whistled their appreciation of Pepper the arson dog.
‘And thankfully, Pepper doesn’t hit on alcohol.’ McGovern put her own helmet on. ‘Because there’s about a thousand gallons of bourbon out here.’
‘We know anything more about that?’ Marino asked. ‘We know if Sparkes might have been making or selling the stuff? I mean, that’s a hell of a lot of hooch for one guy.’
‘Apparently Sparkes was a collector of the finer things in life,’ McGovern spoke of Sparkes as if he were certainly dead. ‘Bourbon, cigars, automatic firearms, expensive horses. We don’t know how legal he was, which is one of the reasons why youze guys are here instead of the Feebs.’