1960: My uncle is the FBI Director

Chapter 197 What disease?

Detective O'Malley repeated the question.

The bald firefighter slowly snapped out of his reverie.

He thought about it carefully for a while, and gradually became serious:

"If it was arson, I can't be sure that the fire was an accident."

Detective O'Malley and the bald firefighter stared at each other in silence.

The fire killed their mutual friend, Alan Brennan.

With Theodore's help, they captured Robert Hayes, who attacked Alan Brennan in the fire, and now it seems there is another killer.

The bald firefighter stood up and asked Theodore in a deep voice:
"Are you sure? That fire was really started by the arsonist?"

Bernie answered for Theodore:

"You'd have to ask the arsonist himself."

Theodore stopped nodding.

Bernie changed the subject.

He raised a question:
What is the connection between the arsonist and gasoline?

"In last night's fire, there were no obvious signs of gasoline used by the arsonist, unlike in the fire in 1958."

At this point, he looked at the bald firefighter.

The bald firefighter nodded affirmatively:
"The smell of gasoline is hard to get rid of; you can still smell it even after it has been burned."

"If the arsonist used a large amount of gasoline as an accelerant, there should have been a smell of gasoline in the basement last night."

“I didn’t smell that odor in the basement last night.”

He was about to describe the smell of burning gasoline, but after thinking about it carefully, he finally said:

"You can try it, the flavor is very distinct."

"Moreover, gasoline burns at very high temperatures. If the arsonist used gasoline, those metal frames should have collapsed like wax on the ground, instead of just twisting and deforming."

"The pile of junk in front of the wires should be fluffy like barbecue charcoal, not clump together."

The bald firefighter glanced at Bernie and said:

"Moreover, arsonists are skilled at creating fires by short-circuiting electrical wires."

"The sparks and temperature generated by the short circuit were enough to ignite that pile of junk."

"He no longer needs to use gasoline or other combustion aids."

Theodore offered an explanation:
"The burning of the first victim was the first time the arsonist had carried out live burning."

“In this situation, serial violent offenders often choose to associate their crimes with their first offense.”

Detective O'Malley couldn't help but ask him:

"You mean the arsonist didn't use electrical wires for the first crime, but gasoline?"

Theodore mimicked Bernie's words:
"That's something the arsonist needs to determine for himself."

Detective O'Malley turned to look at Bernie.

Bernie looked serious, as if he were pondering some age-old problem.

Theodore added:
"Or find his first crime."

He looked at the bald firefighter:

"The earliest case that can be traced back to being associated with arson is this one from the night of April 28, 1958."

"But the arsonist's methods in this case have become quite sophisticated."

"This means that his first crime was committed much earlier than this."

"We need to move forward the review of the investigation report on the fire accident in the Northeast region."

Bernie snapped out of his reverie about the age-old problem and looked at Theodore with some confusion.

The bald firefighter, unaware of anything amiss, nodded earnestly in agreement.

Detective O'Malley, recalling his experience contacting the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers for the list, reminded the bald firefighter that it was Saturday.

The bald firefighter told everyone that he often played bowling with a supervisor and that they could ask him for help.

Detective O'Malley told him that if that didn't work, he could go to the deputy commissioner. He said that when he went to headquarters with the deputy commissioner last time, he saw the deputy commissioner greeting the fire chief, and the two should know each other.

Theodore patted his pockets and said earnestly that he could help too.

He remembered that on the night President Jack was sworn in, he seemed to have met several commissioners from the District of Columbia Commissioner's Commission, and their contact information was in his pocket.

The Commissioner's Commission of the District of Columbia is a typical triad of federal agencies.

At this time, DC had not yet achieved local autonomy, so there was no elected mayor or council.

The Commissioner's Committee fulfills the responsibilities of the City Council and is the direct superior authority of all municipal departments, including the DC Police Department and Fire Department.

The bald firefighter twitched his lips and said that it was a weekend and there was no need to trouble the specialist and the director; let them stay home and spend time with their families.

Theodore thought for a moment, then instructed the bald firefighter:
"The crime scenes were mainly concentrated around Thomas Street and Brentwood Road, which were the arsonists' sweet spot."

"The main focus of the inspection is on fires caused by short circuits in electrical wiring, with particular attention to reports of the potential presence of accelerants on site."

"The report concludes that both human error and accidental incidents should be identified."

The bald firefighter hesitated for a moment, then asked Theodore:

“We only have three days, and I probably can’t read all these reports by myself.”

"Should we invite a few more people along?"

Theodore shook his head and rejected the offer:

"No need. Other people's skills may not reach your level, and they may continue to make wrong or missed judgments."

The bald firefighter looked at Theodore with mixed feelings.

On the one hand, Theodore's trust in him touched him, but on the other hand, he really couldn't watch it all by himself!
If the arsonist's arson history dates back at least four or five years, that's fine. But if the arsonist started setting fires eight or nine years ago, or even more than ten years ago, even if he watched it for three days and three nights without sleep, he still wouldn't be able to finish.

Theodore turned to Detective O'Malley and asked about the progress of the vehicle investigation.

On the night Evelyn Shaw was burned, the arsonist first ran her over with his car before burning her alive.

After being interrupted by Theodore and his two companions, the arsonist drove away and headed to the Anacasta River to dump the body.

Theodore had previously advised them to investigate the vehicle.

Detective O'Malley simply shook his head.

Only one day had passed, and the Fourth Precinct's investigation had yielded no results.

A police officer knocked on the door and handed Detective O'Malley a document that was nearly 2 inches (about 5 cm) thick.

The list of members of the International Brotherhood of Electrical Workers has been received.

The list contains not only names, but also a small amount of personal information such as the electricians' home addresses and phone numbers, as well as occupational information such as skill certifications and jurisdictions.

The information was rudimentary, but it perfectly matched the profile Theodore provided.

Theodore closed the list and began assigning tasks.

He divided the people into four groups.

A group of bald firefighters were responsible for reviewing earlier fire accident investigation reports.

The Fourth Precinct will assign four officers to assist him.

The four officers will conduct an initial screening of the reports according to the criteria set by Theodore.

Detective O'Malley's team is responsible for investigating the list of onlookers to last night's fire and tracking the arsonist's vehicle.

Billy Hawke's team was responsible for conducting a basic screening of the list of electricians based on the profiles provided by Theodore.

The case analysis meeting ended, and it was already noon.

The fourth precinct provided a reasonably tasty working meal.

In the afternoon, Theodore and Bernie set off for the hospital.

The head nurse saw them as soon as they entered the ward.

The head nurse handed the documents in her hand to a young nurse beside her and walked over to the two of them.

She blocked their way and asked them:

Have you found Evelyn?

"How is she?"

Theodore looked at Bernie.

Bernie stepped forward and told the head nurse that they were still searching.

The head nurse wasn't stupid; she already realized that Evelyn Shaw was probably in grave danger. She asked again:
Where is Frank?

"Didn't he find it either?"

Bernie shook his head.

The head nurse looked rather grim.

She was silent for a few seconds, then asked the two what they were investigating this time.

Bernie asked her:

“We’re looking for a patient named Sean Cowan.”

"It was delivered this morning."

The head nurse looked the two of them up and down a few times, her gaze strange.

She pointed to the wards in front of the nurses' station:

"O3, the one by the window."

Theodore glanced in that direction, called to the head nurse who was turning to leave, and asked her:

What illness does Sean Kwan have?

The head nurse was getting impatient:
"Chronic Werdnig-Hoffmann disease".

Theodore and Bernie exchanged a bewildered glance.

Bernie asked the head nurse what exactly the illness was.

The head nurse glanced towards the ward and asked the two of them:

"He can't do anything but lie in bed and wait to die."

"No matter what you're investigating, you've come to the wrong person. It couldn't have been him."

Theodore looked at her:

So what exactly is this disease?

Someone at the nurses' station is calling for the head nurse to come over.

The head nurse agreed, waved her hand in that direction, and explained quickly:

"The nerve cells in the patient's spinal cord that control muscle movement are slowly degenerating, like old electrical wires breaking off segment by segment."

"Children with this condition can learn to sit up, but may never be able to stand or walk."

"Moreover, as they age, their muscles become weaker and their condition deteriorates."

"They will gradually lose their breathing and swallowing functions."

"Children with this disease rarely live to adulthood."

"Sean Cowan was brought in for emergency treatment due to respiratory failure. He was just brought to the ward and is still unconscious."

"He probably can't answer any of your questions."

She shook her head: "You'll see when you go and see for yourselves. He's not the person you're looking for."

Theodore felt this sounded like spinal muscular atrophy.

Spinal muscular atrophy (SMA) is a genetic disease that can be clinically classified into three types: SMA-I, SMA-II, and SMA-III, based on the age of onset and the severity of muscle weakness.

Sean Cowan sounds like he's an SMA-II.

SMA type II typically develops between 6 and 18 months of age and requires lifelong, comprehensive care covering the respiratory, musculoskeletal, and other systems.

There is no cure for spinal muscular atrophy; patients can only rely on frequent, painful, and invasive supportive treatments to maintain life and alleviate symptoms.

The nurses' station is calling again.

The head nurse waved to the two of them and strode back to the nurses' station.

Theodore and Bernie followed behind, heading towards the ward.

This is a large, open-plan ward with eight beds.

The ward faces the nurses' station, making it easy for nurses to monitor the patients' conditions at any time.

This ward is usually reserved for patients who require frequent monitoring or are critically ill.

Following the head nurse's directions, the two entered the ward and found Sean Cowan.

Sean Cowan was as thin as a stick figure, with tubes inserted into his nose, throat, and mouth.

He has completely lost his swallowing and breathing functions and can only be fed liquid food and medication through a nasogastric tube.

Breathing relies on a simple positive pressure respirator, with air blown directly into the lungs through a tracheotomy tube.

The two stood in front of the hospital bed, saying nothing.

A man of similar height to Bernie walked in.

He cautiously slipped between the hospital bed and Theodore and Bernie, looking them up and down:

"Who are you looking for?"

He was wearing a faded gray Sears work uniform, had short, dry, coarse hair like weeds, deep-set cheeks, a slightly hunched back, and slumped shoulders.

Bernie pulled out his ID, introduced himself quietly, and then asked him:

Are you Terence Kwan?

Terence Kwan nodded, but the wariness in his eyes did not lessen.

He sat by the hospital bed, placed a bowl of gruel on the table, found a syringe, drew up the gruel, and injected it into the nasogastric tube.

His movements were swift and highly skilled.

Bernie approached and asked Terence Cowan if he could spare some time to cooperate with the investigation.

Terence Kwan remained silent.

After administering two injections, Terence Cowan injected another tube of water and then stopped feeding.

He skillfully tidied up the paste and syringe, preparing to take them for cleaning.

Bernie followed behind him and asked in a low voice:

Did you know that there was a fire at apartment 209, northeast section of Brentwood Road last night?

Terence Cowan didn't stop, turned his head to glance at Bernie, and nodded.

Bernie asked him again:
"Are you the electrician for that apartment building?"

Terence Cowan turned to look at him again, then nodded.

Theodore followed behind, observing Terence Cowan, who seemed like a robot.

Bernie asked him when he last checked the wiring in apartment 209.

Terence Cowan took two steps in silence:

"A month ago."

"The apartment's fuse has blown and needs to be replaced."

Terence Cowan didn't seem to be very familiar with the area; after walking for a while, he turned back and headed in the other direction.

He quickly found the pool and began cleaning the syringe.

Bernie then asked him about the layout of the basement a month ago, as well as the condition of the electrical wiring.

Terence Kwan shook his head:

"Can not remember."

Bernie glanced back at Theodore.

Terence Cowan seems to be very efficient at everything he does.

In the time it took to say a few words, he had cleaned the syringe, put it in his pocket, and turned to walk towards the ward.

Bernie and Theodore were like two little followers, following closely behind him.

They met a doctor at the door of the ward.

Terence Cowan stopped and stared intently at the doctor.

His cheeks puffed out.

The doctor's gaze fell on Terence Cowan's pocket containing the syringes, then shifted to Theodore and Bernie.

Bernie proactively showed his identification and introduced himself.

The doctor was somewhat bewildered, wondering how Terence Cowan had gotten into trouble with the FBI.

Bernie offered no explanation.

(End of this chapter)