‘I understand.’
‘There are four stages,’ she went on, as if I knew nothing. ‘First is the fire plume, or column of hot gases, flames, and smoke rising from the fire. That would have been the case, let’s say, if the throw rug in the bathroom had ignited. The higher above the flame the gases rise, the cooler and denser they become. They mix with combustion by-products, and the hot gases now begin to fall, and the cycle repeats itself creating turbulent smoke that spreads horizontally. What should have happened next was this hot smoky layer would have continued to descend until it found an opening for ventilation — in this case, we’ll assume the bathroom doorway. Next, the smoky layer flows out of the opening while fresh air flows in. If there’s enough oxygen, the temperature at the ceiling’s going to go up to more than six hundred degrees Celsius, and boom, we have flashover, or a fully developed fire.’
‘A fully developed fire in the master bath,’ I said.
‘And then on into other oxygen-enriched rooms where the fuel loads were enough to burn the place to the ground,’ she replied. ‘So it’s not the spread of the fire that bothers me. It’s how it got started. Like I said, a throw rug, curtains, weren’t enough, unless something else was there.’
‘Maybe something was,’ I said, getting up to pour coffee. ‘How do you take yours?’ I asked.
‘Cream and sugar.’
Her eyes followed me.
‘None of that artificial stuff, please.’
I drank mine black, and set mugs on the desk as McGovern’s gaze wandered around my new office. Certainly, it was brighter and more modern than what I had occupied in the old building on Fourteenth and Franklin, but I really had no more room to evolve. Worst of all, I had been honored with a CEO corner space with windows, and anybody who understood physicians knew that what we needed were walls for bookcases, and not bulletproof glass overlooking a parking lot and the Petersburg Turnpike. My hundreds of medical, legal, and forensic science reviews, journals and formidable volumes were crammed together and, in some cases, double-shelved. It was not uncommon for Rose, my secretary, to hear me swearing when I could not find a reference book I needed right that minute.
‘Teun,’ I said, sipping my coffee, ‘I’d like to take this opportunity to thank you for taking care of Lucy.’
‘Lucy takes care of herself,’ she said.
‘That has not always been true.’
I smiled in an effort to be more gracious, to hide the hurt and jealousy that were a splinter in my heart.
‘But you’re right,’ I said. ‘I think she does a pretty admirable job of it now. I’m sure Philadelphia will be good for her.’
McGovern was reading every signal I was sending, and I could tell she was aware of more than I wanted her to be.
‘Kay, hers will not be an easy road,’ she then stated. ‘No matter what I do.’
She swirled the coffee in her mug, as if about to taste the first sip of fine wine.
‘I’m her supervisor, not her mother,’ McGovern said.
This irked me considerably, and it showed when I abruptly picked up the phone and instructed Rose to hold all calls. I got up and shut my door.
‘I would hope she’s not transferring to your field office because she needs a mother,’ I replied coolly as I returned to my desk, which served as a barrier between us. ‘Above all else, Lucy is a consummate professional.’
McGovern held up her hand to stop me.
‘Whoa,’ she protested. ‘Of course she is. I’m just not promising anything. She’s a big girl, but she’s also got a lot of big obstacles. Her FBI background will be held against her by some, who will assume right off the bat that she has an attitude and has never really worked cases.’
‘That stereotype shouldn’t last long,’ I said, and I was finding it very difficult to objectively discuss my niece with her.
‘Oh, about as long as it takes for them to see her land a helicopter or program a robot to remove a bomb from a scene,’ she quipped. ‘Or zip through Q-dot calculations in her head while the rest of us can’t even figure them out on a calculator.’