Chapter 19: Lydia's Fall

The fire trucks came up the drive first, and two police cars behind them.

Men in yellow coats ran hoses across the grass.

Two officers got out of the lead car and walked toward the trees where Lydia stood.

Torsten got up from the lawn with his sleeve cut away and his forearm wrapped in a wet towel.

He stopped one of them with a hand.

"The guesthouse door has a camera," he said.

"The clip's on the monitor in the guard hall. It shows her going in with a red gas can and coming out without it."

"When?"

"Ten minutes before anyone saw smoke."

"Who is she?" the officer said.

"Lydia Stuyvesant. She's standing right there."

The officer looked across the lawn.

"Is she armed?"

"Only with a folder," I said.

The officers didn't hurry either.

They walked up to Lydia, one on each side, and she turned to them with a polite face.

"Ms. Stuyvesant?" the first officer said.

"We'd like you to come with us. You're being detained in connection with a fire."

"It was an accident," Lydia said.

"I was out for a walk. I saw smoke."

"There's a recording."

"Then it's a mistake," she said.

"My family will tell you. I live in that house. Ask my father."

She turned toward the terrace.

By now, everyone on the estate had come out.

The cook stood in her apron with a dish towel in her fist.

Four housekeepers, the gardener and the new guard had formed a half circle on the grass.

Not one of them looked at Lydia kindly.

Edgar stood beside my mother, who sat wrapped in a fireman's blanket.

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