Chapter 14

Chet was awakened the next morning by the muffled sound of a telephone. He opened his eyes and took just a second or two to remember where he was and from there he was able to find the cabinet where the phone was hid before it stopped ringing.

"Hello."

"Good morning," Carl Clark responded. "There's a member of the investigation team here who would like to ask you a few questions. Are you decent?"

"I will be in two minutes," Chet started grabbing for his pants as he spoke.

"I'll send him on over then. When he's done with you breakfast will be ready at the house."

Chet realized that the pants he had grabbed were his uniform pants so he dropped them again and opened his suit case. Realizing as he did that he had no idea what his sister packed for him and wondered if he needed to do a load of laundry to have something appropriate to wear to the Grand Jury that afternoon. He was pleasantly surprised by what he saw and then remembering he hadn't had a shower in two days now Chet opted to pull his work pants on and then another shirt. He was just buttoning his shirt up when the knock came on the bunk house door.

Chet opened the door to see a man holding his credentials up for him to see. "Come," a yawn he couldn't hold back interrupted his welcome. "Sorry about that, come on in."

Chet stepped back and covered his mouth as another yawn came. As he did so he felt his stubbly face. He'd have to make sure he shaved before he went over for breakfast.

"Sorry," Chet apologized.

"That's okay. Mr. Clark told me that you'd been up talking quite late last night. I was hoping I could ask you about some of the training Frank Dillon received while he was out west these recent months."

"Sure," Chet responded, the talk he had with Julie's father during dinner last night had really put him at ease with the investigation that was taking place. Chet turned around to look for a place to direct the man before him. His bed was unmade his suitcase lay open on the next bed on top of the garment bag that he had lain out to keep his dress uniform from wrinkling. "Um, there's a kitchen at the other end down there; what do you say we go there and talk."

Chet led the way, yawning a couple more times as he walked. When he got to the table he pulled out a chair and then took one on the other side of the table.

As soon as the man sat down Chet started to talk. "I'm not sure I can tell you too much about the training Frank got, I know they checked him out on things like making his bed and doing laundry and stuff like that but he knew all that before he got there. I know they taught him how to cook—"

"That's not the training I was asking about," the man interrupted Chet as he talked. He also pulled a small tape recorder out of his pocket and turned it on before setting it on the table in front of Chet. "We have the records from the training program Mr. Dillon was involved in. What I want to know is what you trained him to do in regards to firefighting."

Chet was surprised by that line of questioning. "Nothing, sir. What Frank knew he knew before he arrived out west."

"You mean to tell me you didn't teach him the things he'd need to know in order to be accepted at the Firefighting Academy out there?"

"No sir, I gave him the opportunity to do a few things that he'd never get a chance to do here like climb the ladder on a ladder truck and descend the stairs of a training tower, but aside of telling him to take it slow and make sure he touched every rung and every step it was all for fun. Yeah, nearly everyone else that was there that day was trying out for a spot at the academy but hey, I knew Frank wasn't academy material, I mean he couldn't even read. There was no way he could take the written test. I just knew he would have the time of his life and he surprised a lot of people with how well he did. I was even surprised a little. His run time was off but everything else he did, his times would have got him on the list."

"So you didn't train him in preparation for this academy tryout?"

"No, not at all."

"I was told that you had him over to the fire station on several occasions to participate in training drills."

"Well, I don't know who told you that. He was only at the station three times that I'm aware of."

"Tell me about those times."

"Well, the first time was when he first arrived in California. We, me and two of my shift mates, had been out here on a fishing trip. On our way home we were in an accident not far from here. We barely missed being in a head on collision and to avoid it we were up on two wheels for a while. One of my friends was in the back of the Rover and he didn't have his seat belt on so he got tossed around a little and got a head injury but the other truck over corrected and ended up rolling several times. That driver was hurt pretty bad and then his truck started on fire. Anyway we did what we could for them and Julie, Frank and her brother just happened along to get us in to the nearest hospital.

When Roy, he's the one who got the head injury, anyway he started having problems so we hitched a ride back to LA with her cousin who drives a semi and then he came out again a few days later with Johnny's truck and Julie's truck and Frank, oh and all of our fishing and camping gear. Since they were dropping everything off at the fire station I made arrangements to give Frank a tour of the station. He surprised us then by talking through the steps to work the pumps and charge the hoses and then told us about all of the differences between our truck and his back here.

"The second time was my first shift back after being in the hospital. Frank and Julie had given me a ride home from the hospital and then Frank practiced one of the dishes he'd learned to cook. While we were eating dinner he was talking about a work trial where he had participated in washing police cars." Chet paused to smile at that memory, "It was clear that he was disappointed in washing police cars and he told us that he had asked to get a work trial washing fire engines but was told that he couldn't.

"Anyway I told him that fire engines had to be washed just right and that the hose had to be loaded a special way, and that's when he told me he knew all about that and proceeded to tell me how they had to be loaded. I mean Frank has a mean stutter and it takes him four times longer to explain things than a normal person but it was clear he knew how to do it.

"On my first shift back we had back to back fires and the engine was covered with layers and layers of mud and muck, and so were the hoses. Our last fire before we were stood down for clean up was at an apartment building across the street from the training center where Frank was staying and when we finally got it out I talked my Captain into letting Frank come to the station and help us wash the engine. He got a chance that day to show everyone what he could do. Wasn't a man in the station that wasn't checking out his work as he was loading the hosed back on but he showed them he knew what he was doing."

"Do you have any idea where he learned all that stuff?"

"He had to have learned it here; Julie told us that he rolled on all the fires with the fire department here. She said they didn't let him fight the fires but that he helped them get their air tanks on and make sure their straps were untwisted. From what he showed us in LA he must have helped with clean up."

"What about the other time he was at the station?" the man questioning Chet was writing in a notebook as he listened.

"That was the morning they left to come back here," Chet remembered that day and the last time he saw his friend alive. Moisture started to collect in his eyes as he remembered his captain presenting him the plaque to award him for his bravery in rescuing people from the apartment fire. Cap had told him that it had been an honor to work with him. Chet silently thanked the power above that they had been given the chance to tell him that.

"He and Julie stopped by on their way out to say good-bye to everyone."

"He didn't work with the equipment that time?"

"NO," Chet's emotions were starting to squeak through. "We got a late call that morning, a house fire and we didn't get back to the station until after shift change. The next shift had been there for over an hour and took over as soon as the trucks were back."

"So to your knowledge the next shift didn't let him work with the equipment?"

Chet shook his head. "NO, not Hookraider's crew. They didn't, well let's just say they aren't as impressed with Frank as the rest of us. Hook, Captain Hookraider, tried to keep them in line but they never got past Frank's stutter."

The man questioning Chet let the silence linger for a moment after he finished writing. He then looked at Chet and then turned to some earlier pages in his book to read for a moment.

"The night of the fire where he was killed," the man started talking once again with his eyes locked on Chet's, "Mr. Dillon had responded to an earlier alarm at the same house where a minor fire in an electrical box was believed to be put out. After the fire department left Mr. Dillon continued to hang around. The local police officer finally coaxed him into the patrol car and tried to take him home but Mr. Dillon insisted on staying where he could see the house until the family replaced the smoke detector that had been declared defective.

"According to the police officer in question this was the second time he had done this since returning from his training program so while they waited and watched from the police car across the street from the house in question, the police officer asked him why he was keeping watch."

The man paused and toyed with his pen for a moment before proceeding. "The police officer also talked about Mr. Dillon's profound stutter but he said that Mr. Dillon told him about a friend back in Los Angeles named Chet who told him that sometimes a fire can still burn in the insulation inside the walls and ceilings, and that it would just smoke until the fire got enough air to start really burning and then it would spread fast. He told the officer how the firemen in Los Angeles would pull the ceilings down to make sure there was no fire in the walls before they left the place where the fire was. This fire department doesn't do that so Mr. Dillon was insisting on watching until a new smoke detector was in place to warn the family if a fire were to start again. According to the police officer no sooner had he explained his reasons for staying to him when they saw a flash of fire from an attic window and Frank Dillon ran to the house to wake everyone up and get them all out."

Before this investigator was finished Chet's face was as pale as a ghost his breathing faster than it should be and his memory all too clear.

"The day I took him to the tryouts,,, he asked me why we pulled the ceilings down at the apartment fire he watched us fight. I answered him, just like I've done every time anyone ever asks that question."

The tears that had been building started to drain down Chet's face. "I, I didn't mean for him to, I'm the reason he's dead."

Unable to do anything else Chet buried his face in his hands. It wasn't long before he heard the other chair scrape across the floor and then a strong hand on his shoulder.

"I don't think there is a fire fighter anywhere that wouldn't have answered that question, or anyone else that knew the answer to the question. As much as you might be right, that the answer indirectly led to this man's death, I hope that you can find comfort in the fact that it also saved the lives of two families."

"Two?" Chet turned a surprised look at the person who had been questioning him.

"Yeah. I told you that he had done this before. Just six days before he waited all night keeping watch on another house until the home owner went out the next morning and bought a new smoke detector. When the new detector sounded off as soon as they put the batteries in it Mr. Dillon asked to look through the hatch to the attic and pulled out a couple of hands full of smoldering insulation. The home owner was a bit miffed at the mess that he made but once it was explained that where ever there's smoke there's fire he realized how much he owed Mr. Dillon.

It took Chet a moment to gain some composure. "So you know for sure that he didn't start the fire then?"

"Yeah, there's no question about how the fire started."

"Is there still a grand jury this afternoon?"

"Yeah, yeah there is. There are a few things that still need to be brought out in open court."

"I'll be there."

"We'll probably call on you to testify." There was silence for a moment and then the man placed his notebook and recorder back in his pocket. "I'll let myself out."

The man moved toward the door but stopped and turned around. "I guess that boy wasn't as dumb as everyone thought he was."