California Fire and Life by Don Winslow Page A

you recall what you were watching the night your mommy died?
I’m hardcore, but I’m not
that
hardcore.
    “What time did you put the kids to bed?”
    Nicky looks to his mother.
    “It was 10:15,” she says, with a hint of disapproval.
    It’s a hint, but Nicky picks up on it like it fell on his head.
    “Summertime,” he says. “They have no school to get up for, so I’m afraid I’m a bit lenient …”
    She says, “Children need a routine.”
    Jack asks, “What did you after the children went to bed?”
    “I am an American now, too.” Nicky laughs. “I watched television. A movie on HBO.”
    “Cinemax,” Mother corrects.
    “Cinemax,” Nicky says with a look at Jack that says,
Mothers
.
    “Do you recall what the movie was?”
    “Something with John Travolta,” Nicky says. “About stealing an atomic weapon. Very post-cold war.”
    “Did you watch the whole thing?”
    “It was quite suspenseful.”
    “That’s a yes?”
    “Yes.”
    Jack turns to Mother.
    “Did you watch it with him?”
    “Am I under suspicion of something?” she asks.
    “No one’s under suspicion of anything,” Jack says. “It’s just the rules.”
    You have a $2 million claim, I have to ask the questions.
    Mother says, “I was reading a book while Daziatnik watched the film, but I was, yes, in the room with him.”
    “Did you go to bed after the movie?” Jack asks Nicky.
    “Yes.”
    “What time was that?”
    “About 12:30, I suppose.”
    “No,” Mother says. “You went out for a swim and then sat in the spa.”
    Nicky smiles. “She’s right. I took a brandy out with me.”
    “So you went to bed around …?”
    “One-thirty, it must have been.”
    “How about you, Mrs. Valeshin?” Jack asks. “Did you go to bed after the movie was over?”
    She answers, “Yes. I turned the light out at 1 o’clock.”
    So much for the prelims, Jack thinks. He asks Nicky, “When did you get up?”
    “When the telephone rang.”
    “That was the—”
    “The authorities calling to inform me of the … of my wife’s death.”
    “I’m sorry to have to—”
    “No, you are performing your job,” Nicky says. “I asked you to come do just that, didn’t I? Your next question is, Do I recall the time? Yes, Ido. When I heard the phone ringing I looked at the clock. You know, what fool is calling at this hour? It was 6:35. I am quite certain. This is not the sort of thing you forget.”
    “I understand,” Jack says.
    “Then I went and woke up Mother,” Nicky says. “I told her and we discussed how to tell the children. We decided to let them sleep for a while longer. I believe it was around 7:30 when we woke them up to tell them.”
    “So you were in bed from roughly 1:30 to 6:30,” Jack says.
    “That’s correct.”
    “No,” Mother says. “You got up to check on the children. Michael was crying and I was about to get up when I heard you. That was at—”
    Let me guess, Jack thinks. That was at 5 o’clock.
    “—four forty-five.”
    Okay, close.
    “Mother is, as usual, right,” Nicky says. “Now that she mentions it, I recall that I got up to check on Michael. He was back asleep, of course, by the time I got to their room. I probably stopped to use the toilet on my way back to bed, Jack.”
    Jack asks some more questions then tells Nicky that he’ll need tax returns and bank statements.
    “Why?” Nicky asks.
    Because I want to see if you have a financial motive for burning your house down.
    “Just part of the process,” Jack says.
    “Do you think I had the house burned down?” Nicky asks. “A case of ‘Jewish lightning,’ as I’ve heard said?”
    “I don’t think anything,” Jack says.
    Under the gaze of Nicky’s blue eyes.
    Mother says, “Daziatnik, why don’t you go get the children?”
    Daziatnik goes to get the children.
    Mother gives Jack her iciest smile and says, “Perhaps I should reconsider the room and board.”
    “That’s between you and your son, Mrs. Valeshin.”
    He watches