Hampton Manor (28 page)

The Assassin admired his work from his vantage point.
Perfect execution. That Nitrex is the best explosive and natural accelerant I’ve ever used. Good choice!

He observed a woman with a small dog walking in the road past the entrance to the Hampton house. She looked up the driveway, stopped dead in her tracks, removed a small cell phone from her pocket and pressed a few buttons with her thumb.
9-1-1, no doubt. Then her lady friends for sure. She’ll be talking all night. This kind of news will spread quickly, but, of course, not as fast as my fire will.
When she completed her call she returned the phone to her coat pocket, picked up the small dog and scurried back in the direction from which she came, carelessly leaving her dog’s poop on the sidewalk.
I guess being a good citizen just goes so far. Have a good night lady.

While the West Wing took the biggest hit, the explosive placed in the main house was so strategically placed that it travelled quickly down the center hall and the East Wing was now totally engulfed in flame.
A perfect job if I have to say so myself.
His watch read 9 p.m.
I’ve stayed too long. It’s such a beautiful sight, but it’s time to leave Old Brooking and head for home
. As he exited he noticed that several cars were heading up the short
driveway to the parking lot adjacent to where he was stationed, looking for a vantage point to watch the inferno. Even Mister six-pack had left whatever he was doing to gape at the fire.

He could hear police and fire engine sirens heading his way. He wasn’t surprised that a fire at Hampton Manor would take precedent over an empty warehouse that was a goner from the get-go.
They can’t have much water left. Boy, are they’re
in
for
a
long
night
. He started his engine and backed out. As he began to roll forward he noticed that the large steel gates that blocked access to the Manor were still closed. With no one and no way to open them from inside the house, the gates would remain locked.
I’d love to see how they deal with that, but I’ve got to move along.
The
dastardly
deed
is done.

The Assassin planned to stay overnight at the Happy Days Motel in New Jersey where the original license plate would be put back on the car and the cell phone, pager and remotes would be thrown at half-mile intervals into a nearby lake.

The Manor gates would turn out to be a minor inconvenience compared to the long list of contraventions the Fire Department would endure before the night was over.

Chapter 45

As the Assassin slowly closed the book on his assignment, the drama at the fire site was just starting to unfold in his wake. Fires rank very high in the list of spectator sports. As observers, men usually outdraw women at these “events”. The blaze underway at Hampton Manor would be no exception. Old Brooking was being inundated by a series of what appeared to be random events. First the water system failure, then the old Parker Brother’s lumber warehouse going up in flame and now Hampton Manor ablaze. The town was having a genuine “three-fer.”

Townsfolk jockeyed for position to ogle the spectacle. Some came on foot, some by car others via bicycles. Several teens traveled over on their skateboards. The Assassin was missing the big show, but at a time like this it was best not to be a strange face in the crowd, even one with a partial disguise. People in small towns tend to recall strangers during catastrophic events. It’s not wise to be in the wrong place at the wrong time when that happens.

Among the several hundred spectators throughout the night, were Kane Masterson, Marcia Bloom, Lauren and Daniel McKnight and Evelyn Littleton, each fixated on the fire and the hapless efforts of the brave men fighting it; each having different feelings about the relevance of what they were seeing

Hampton Manor, sitting atop a knoll could be viewed from almost every part of town. For over seventy-four years it has been a symbol of the affluence that made Old Brooking one of the most picturesque towns on Connecticut’s southern shore. Now afire from wing to wing it gave the appearance of a giant bonfire at a football rally.

Two police cars were the first responders to the scene, followed by the Police Chief’s unmarked car. The Chief stepped from the car and walked over to gate. He looked up at the blazing building, flames completely engulfed the outer shell. He made his assessment and returned to the vehicle. His driver saw the look on the Chief’s face. It was going to be a long night whatever the Chief decided to do. He asked, “What’s next?”

“I don’t think there is much we can do. The town doesn’t have any equipment to take out that gate or any munitions to take out the lock. We’ll have to do around it, through the hedges on both sides. We’ll have to wait for one of the fire engines. Those hedges would rip up our undersides.” He talked on the phone with the Town Administrator and Fire Chief and dispatched his men to set up barricades and tape to create a clear path for the first two of the town’s fire engines that were within earshot.

“When they get here tell them to go right on through the hedges. From the looks of that blaze, no one is going to fault us for damage to the landscaping. That’ll be the least of anyone’s concerns. The Chief says they called for backup from the surrounding communities, so expect two trucks from Minton and two from Treebrook to come rolling in behind ours.”

The two town fire trucks easily rode over the hedges, one on each side, followed by two police cars. They quickly made their way to the front of the building, The firemen were off the rigs before they came to a stop. One of the firefighters was Old Brooking’s Chief of twenty years, John “Buck” Carlson. The look on his face told the story. Without sufficient water, there was no way they could even approach the building. The brick and stone exterior walls were already charred from the flames and the thick black smoke. The building’s size presented a formidable challenge. It was over two hundred and fifty feet long by one hundred feet deep in the main building; the wings were about fifty feet deep. The flames were evenly spread over the two story building.

The windows along the West Wing silhouetted the metal bars, installed for security reasons, against the backdrop of flickering flames. The bullet proof one-way glass that was intended to hide them from public view was blown out by the initial blast, exposing them to onlookers. The second explosion had damaged the front door which eventually fell from its frame.

The heat and smoke kept the firemen from coming any closer than thirty feet of the structure. Several firemen headed for the attached garage intent on checking for keys to move the six vehicles parked there. The roof of the garage was already in flames and their Chief signaled for them to back off. At this point the threat of a ceiling collapse and gasoline tank explosion outweighed saving a few vehicles.

The frustration they felt at the warehouse fire was returning. Water was their most potent weapon, but their tanks were now empty. The surrounding towns were sending help, but the only thing that they would accomplish would be to put out the flames. Any thought of salvaging the Manor was long since gone. The job now was to extinguish a fire that covered over eighteen thousand square feet.

A rescue vehicle and a tanker from the Minton Fire Department arrived and the Fire Captain aboard the tanker sought out “Buck” for orders on where to dispense their precious cargo of twenty five hundred gallons of water. The Chief decided that preventing the cars from exploding was a priority. As the water doused the flames, the garage roof collapsed and steam from the dying embers filled the air. The cars were totaled by the weight of the roof, but at least they had prevented an additional explosion.

Within minutes a pumper and a tanker with a total of thirty five hundred gallons of water arrived from Treebrook. Chief Carlson conferred with their Fire Captain and they concentrated the water on the front entrance; their intended point of entry into the Manor when the danger subsided.

The crews from the three communities withdrew fifty feet and waited. It was already 10:00 and the fire was starting to run out of material to consume. From experience the fire professionals knew that their vigil would continue for several more hours. They also knew that when it was over, very little of Hampton Manor would be left. It was a classic case of “too little, too late.”
 

The heat lessened within twenty minutes and the two neighborhood tankers emptied their cargo of water on the main house entrance. and hallway. Occasionally they heard small explosions from within the Manor as stored oxygen or nitrogen tanks exploded. It would be at least an hour before it would be safe for the crews to venture into the building.

The Treebrook engines finally left at 11.00.; the rescue truck and tanker from Minton an hour later. Buck thanked them for their help and pledged to assist them in the future, should the need ever occur. That was one favor they all hoped would never have to be repaid. Chief Carlson accepted Treebrook’s offer to allow the four Old Brooking pumpers to return with them to refill their tanks.

During the night, the police were busy controlling the gawkers. A crowd of several hundred had gathered in the street and remained until the early hours of the morning. This spectacle was the most exciting thing that had happened to Old Brooking in several years. Clergymen of several faiths were in the crowd in case they would be needed. They prayed for the victims of the fire as they waited patiently for the flames to die down.

Channel 36, a 24 hour a day news station from New Haven, was covering the fire. The police allowed them to set up their equipment just inside the unopened gate. One camera was fixed on Hampton Manor as it slowly burned to the ground. Dreams of award winning footage danced in the head of the cameraman. A mobile unit, complete with a field reporter, was engaged in interviewing some of fire watchers that were eager to have their “moments of fame.”

The first interview was with a neighbor, Debra Waterton, who had returned to the scene. “I was walking Gunther, my miniature Schnauzer, around 9 o’clock I heard a popping noise that sounded like an explosion and then I saw flames in the windows. Then I heard a second pop that sounded the same as the first. I called 9-1-1 immediately, picked up Gunther and went home. I gave a statement to the police. They took my name and address in case they need to talk to me again.”

The reporter inquired,
“
Did you know the Hamptons?”

“I met Adam the second, several times at charitable events in town, but I ever met his son. They kept to themselves, mostly. I never saw any women living over there, but I’ve only lived in town three years.”

“Well, thank you, Miss Waterton. I appreciate you taking time to speak to us.”

“You’re welcome. I just wish that 9-1-1 had responded faster, but I guess with the water supply out, it wouldn’t have made much difference, anyway.”

The reporter waved to the cameraman and moved to a teenager holding a skateboard.
 

“Did you ride over here on that board?”

“Yeah! Chris and me got here around ten o’clock,”
he answered pointing at the young man standing to his right. “Is this gonna be on TV?”

The reporter answered, “I intend to submit it, but it may get edited. No guarantees.”

“That’s cool”, one of them said as he playfully poked his buddy in the back.”

“Have you ever been to a fire as big as this?”

“We were over at the Parker Brothers warehouse fire a while ago. It was awesome, but nothing like this. They couldn’t put that one out either. All they could do is hassle us for wanting to get up close. What a bummer.”

“I can imagine.”

“This is like Rome burning. You know, Nero and all that stuff.”

“Well, let’s hope not.” Thanks for speaking with us,”
the reporter said as she stepped back and went on camera “There you have it, the neighbor the fire and the view from a young listener. This is Meredith McKenzie broadcasting from Old Brooking at the scene of a tragic fire at Hampton Manor.”

At 12:30, as the fire continued to burn out in the rear of the East Wing, a six man crew entered the Manor through the hole that was once the main entrance. The charred remains of Neil Gilbert were immediately discovered and removed by several men from the Rescue Team.

The crew approached the wall of the West Wing. The three foot thick concrete wall encasing the section was intact. They used a door rammer to knock down steel door leading into the reception area. As the firemen entered the room they found the charred remains of Bootsy and Flopsy, the family dogs, and several feet away the skeletal remains of a man decapitated by the initial blast. The door rammer was ineffective against the second door which was reinforced with tempered steel. A circular saw was used to cut a hole large enough for a fireman with equipment and an air bottle to crawl through. The first two inside removed enough debris to open the door about three feet. The grim job of the investigation team began. Two more bodies would be found in one of the rooms.

Kane Masterson, watched as walls began to crumble. He and Marcia remained long after most the crowd had dispersed, giving him an unobstructed view of the fire. He could hardly control his jubilation. The expression on his face showed concern, while his heart was jumping for joy.

Lauren and Daniel watched for about an hour in utter dismay as to what was happening. They did not speak to each other, preferring to ponder the situation and how it could be connected to their actions of previous days.