Chapter 3: Questions Without Answers

The TV reporters perked up when they saw Chin approach. They all knew all the members of Five-0. All the cameramen turned from filming McGarrett and the arson investigators poking through the rubble and focused their lenses on Chin.

"Lt. Kelly, can you answer a couple of questions?" asked Meredith Hinton, a tanned, blonde woman who looked like a model and had degrees in journalism and political science.

"There's nothing I can say right now," Chin replied. "Five-0 was just called in on the case this afternoon and we haven't had a chance to be briefed by the Fire Investigation Unit. They've been a little busy." He gave a nod at the damaged school. "I can tell you that there were no injuries in today's fire. Fortunately the children had gotten out of school early and the staff was able to escape when the alarms went off."

"Is it true that the three school fires are the work of a serial arsonist?" asked Caleb Kahoano, a serious young man with dark hair and a long jaw.

"That has not been confirmed," Chin said firmly.

"But it's your working theory," said the Ben Tsieh, the oldest of the three reporters, a man with graying hair who had been covering Honolulu since Chin was a child.

"We work on a lot of theories," Chin said noncommittally. "But since you asked, have you seen anyone suspicious at the fires? Anyone show up more than once? People you don't know."

In a lot of ways, Honolulu was a small town. The TV crews knew all the newspaper reporters and radio news guys.

"What about that little Chinese gal?" Hinton asked her colleagues. "I never saw her before the first fire."

Tsieh pursed his lips but Kahoano shook his head. "Her name is Mary Chen. She's a UH journalism student, taking a class in crime reporting. She lives near the first school, that's why she showed up there."

The other reporters and his cameraman gave him a look, but he just shrugged. "What? She's cute. I asked her out. I picked her up outside the journalism building and saw one of my old professors who knew her. And her mom makes the best coconut cake," he assed, as if that was the clinching argument.

"Sounds like she is who she says she is," Chin said, hiding a smile, "But we'll check her out anyway."

"What about the guy with the tie?" Tsieh's camera operator said to his reporter.

"That's right." Tsieh nodded. "White guy, almost as old as I am, but a stranger. Maybe from the mainland. He wore a necktie the first two fires, but looked more casual today."

"Lemon yellow polo shirt," the cameraman said. "I remember thinking it was lucky he was a print reporter, because he'd look terrible on TV."

"But I don't know who he works for," Tsieh said. "I think everyone was covered." The reporters and camera guys compared notes and accounted for all the local newspapers and known stringers.

Chin remembered the bright yellow shirt from earlier in the day. He was pretty sure he had taken photos that included the man.

"Thank you for your help," the lieutenant said. "We'll be in touch when we know more."

"Always glad to help, Lt. Kelly," Hinton said. "Especially if we get a quote on the record in return."

Chin just smiled and went to join Kono.

Steve was still mulling over what he'd learned from the arson unit. He wasn't ready to talk to the press, so he hastily bypassed Chin and went to find Danny.

"We didn't see anything, officer," Engineer Pence from Station 25 told Kono. "We were a little busy," he added with a smile.

"Anyone in the crowd you've seen at any of the other fires?" Kono asked.

"We weren't called out for the first fire," Firefighter Nia contributed. "I think only Station 68 has been at all the fires. The first one was small and in their territory. The last two have been bigger and needed both our stations."

Kono checked with the rest of the firemen but they all told the same story.

Danny got much the same response from Station 68, but they weren't nearly as polite, maybe just because he wasn't as cute as Kono.

As Danny approached, the firefighters from Station 68 were relaxing, joking and chugging down water while they waited for the all clear. They were tall men, some bulky and muscular, some lean and rangy, but all well built, as firefighters tend to be because of all the heavy lifting they do.

Seeing the group made Danny homesick. These were guys like his Dad in his younger days, like his Dad's friends who had helped coach Danny's Little League team and helped his father assemble a swing set in the backyard one Christmas Eve.

From childhood, Danny was used to being surrounded by big, muscular guys. It was one of the reasons McGarrett hadn't fazed him when they first met.

Danny introduced himself and asked the same question Kono had. The leader of the group, whose name badge read "Gratz," sneered at the shorter man.

"We're too busy to people-watch, pal." His cronies all nodded agreement and snickered.

Danny tried a little butter. "Firemen are observant. They have to be. Think about it for a minute. Is there any person who seemed out of place? Or anything unusual about the fire?"

The man beside Gratz replied in the negative, more politely than Gratz had. His name badge read, "Bacadi."

Danny saw he wasn't going to get anything out of this crowd and he didn't really have any reason to press.

"All right. Give Five-0 a call if you remember anything."

"Five-0, that's a big job for a little man, shorty."

Steve was just coming up to his partner when he heard the comment. He paused, frowning. With all the joking, bantering and arguing he did with Danny, he never resorted to short jokes (though Danny himself occasionally did). Though he knew his partner was below average height, Steve had never thought of Danny as small, not since they met with Danny pointing a gun at him and filling the McGarrett garage from top to bottom and side to side with his forceful personality.

When Gratz' cohorts laughed at laughed at his sally, Steve saw a spark of something in Danny's eyes, but it was gone too quickly to identify whether it was outrage or mischief.

In fact, it was a bit of nostalgia. Gratz sounded just like his father's best friend Dave who had always called tagalong tyke Danny "shorty." But it was one thing for Uncle Dave to say it and another for a total stranger.

Danny half-turned and slapped Gratz' chest friendly-like with the back of his hand.

"Pretty good, big guy," Danny said, his voice dripping with condescension condensation. "Let me know when you work your way up to a second-grade joke book, I think my daughter's outgrown hers."

The other men laughed as hard at Danny's riposte as at the original quip, which made Gratz' fists bunch. Gratz' buddy Bacadi flinched just perceptibly at the mention of a daughter. He gripped Gratz' shoulder, but the burly firefighter shook him off.

Gratz advanced on Danny who put his hand on his gun and stared the fireman down. Gratz stopped. "Brave man with a gun in your hand," he sneered.

"Right. You're a foot taller and outweigh me by 100 pounds, so you think it's 'fair' if we go toe-to-toe," Danny sneered right back. He took his hand off the gun and beckoned with his fingertips. "Then come on, big man, I'm all for fair play."

The others threw a quick look at Steve, but he just crossed his arms, leaned against the engine and looked bored. Taking that for permission to squash one loudmouth detective, Gratz gave his coterie a grin and lunged at Danny. It was a big mistake to take his eyes off his opponent. Danny slipped to one side and brought his elbow up under Gratz' chin, as he hooked Gratz' ankle with his foot. The big man crashed on his belly, the air woofing out of him. Danny's hand yanking hard on his collar was actually a kindness, because it prevented the fireman's face from smacking the pavement. Then Danny knelt on Gratz' back, twisting one arm and making it obvious he could handcuff the breathless firefighter with no problem.

The arm Danny controlled had a tattoo across the back of the hand. Danny read it and snorted.

"There, wasn't that fun, 'Hot Stuff'?" Danny said, patting his opponent's shoulder.

The detective released Gratz and started to walk away. The fireman lurched to his feet and lunged at Danny's back.

A/N: Can't really call it a cliffie when you know Steve is standing right there.