Free Brooklyn on Fire by Lawrence H. Levy Page B

UNTINGTON HAD adopted Archer shortly after he married Arabella. Archer was fourteen at the time, and Huntington was the only father he had ever known. John Worsham had died when he was a baby.
    “If my father had abandoned me, I might not care who he was or what happened to him,” Archer explained as he and Mary sat in her office after Lazlo had gone back upstairs. “But that’s not the case. He just…died.”
    “You realize your mother won’t be happy about this.”
    “That’s quite an understatement, but thank you for the warning. Ever since our lunch today, the question of my father’s death has been haunting me. I’m afraid I might have spooked Lazlo with my exuberance, but I doubt whether I’ll get any rest until it’s settled.”
    Mary almost smiled at the inability of certain rich people to deal with discomfort. She knew of others with far worse problems who had to live with the horror of their circumstances every day, because they didn’t have the financial wherewithal to free themselves. But Archer seemed like a decent enough fellow, so Mary decided not to hold his privilege against him.
    “How did you know where to find me?”
    “I saw my mother put your card in a drawer, and when she left the room, I fished it out.”
    “I’m sorry. It must be uncomfortable having to sneak around.”
    “Frankly, Miss Handley, I can’t imagine having a better mother. She was always there to support me and give me anything I needed. But I’m fairly certain that Mother is trying to shield me from any possible scandal that may arise from this. What she doesn’t realize is that if such a situation does arise, I feel perfectly equipped to handle it.”
    Archer’s words reminded Mary of her trouble with her own mother and how she had always yearned for Elizabeth to be supportive. “You’re a lucky young man to have a mother who cares about you so much. Are you sure you want to do this?”
    “Most certainly, and I am prepared to pay for any expenses involved. I want it done properly.”
    “I understand, and it will be.” Mary was particularly pleased with this offer. In her eagerness to acquire a new client, she had failed to discuss possible expenses with Emily Worsham in addition to the two weeks’ pay she had received. It was her oversight, and in this instance, Archer had saved her from appearing unprofessional by having to return to her client with an “oh, by the way” speech.
    Mary liked Archer Huntington, but she had purposely held back one important detail. If anything untoward had happened to his father, it was most likely his mother who had done it.

8
    S HORTY DIDN’T JUST like fire. He loved it. He hadn’t been born yet when fire destroyed most of Wall Street in 1835, and the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 was much too far away for him to witness. He yearned to see blazes of that magnitude. And about the only thing Shorty enjoyed more than watching fires was starting them. So as a personal bonus to himself, he’d finish each assignment by setting everything aflame. It added to his enjoyment of the job, and it also had the extra benefit of getting rid of any evidence that he might have accidentally left behind. But in this last job, he had been told to kill her and get out. The note that he was given with his instructions specifically read, “There will be no fire.” It was disappointing, but he was being paid infinitely more than his usual fee and he saw no benefit in questioning the client.
    This left him with a dilemma: the unknown. Did he leave something at the scene that could be traced back to him? Shorty didn’t think he had, but he didn’t know for sure. As a result, he continually found excuses to walk past the old lady’s house, and even though it had been more than two weeks since he’d completed his assignment, he observed that police were still busily running in and out.
    On this particular Saturday he had been watching from behind a tree across the street when he saw two