Evidence of Murder by Samuel Roen

digging we’ve done already, and no end in sight. All these leads, but nothing conclusive. A guy driving a white—maybe—Ford Explorer. He’s maybe in his twenties, thirties or even forties. He’s dark complexioned, suntanned, or fair with dark brown or sun-bleached hair. He’s anywhere from five-ten to six-one, weighs one-sixty to two hundred ten pounds. The only thing the witnesses all agree on is that he’s a white man. That really doesn’t narrow it down. Just shows you how accurate eyewitnesses are.”
    Linnert turned his attention to Weir. “I know exactly how you feel, and if I were the kind of guy who gets discouraged, our progress so far would do it. But this is just one of those cases that takes everything you’ve got before the golden gates open.” He leaned forward, his bright brown eyes almost sparkling. “But I truly believe we’ve made some headway. Just think of that SUV. Catching up with it is a hell of a leap forward. If we can determine how it got to Brevard, it could be another step forward. And maybe the techs will get some kind of clue when they go over it in the garage.”
    Weir smoothed back his hair. “That’s true. Or maybe one of the bystanders at the fire saw something. We’ll go talk to some of those guys who were there.”
    “Which one first?”
    “Daniel Hamilton, the maintenance fellow at the Four Seasons Condominiums in Cocoa Beach.”
    “Oh, right. Yeah, his name is on the list of witnesses who were at the fire.”
    “I sure hope he can tell us something.”
    “Me too. Let’s go find out.”
    The detectives interviewed Daniel Hamilton in his apartment at the Dolphin Motel, located on South Atlantic Avenue in Cocoa Beach. The tall, dark, nice-looking fellow told them he was eager to talk about the experience.
    “I never thought that I’d ever see anything like that fire,” he said, shaking his head in wonder. “Iola, my girlfriend, will tell you that, too. She isn’t here right now.” He leaned back in his easy chair and began. “I was asleep; it was at night and I had been working hard. I was in a really deep sleep when Iola came into the bedroom and said, ‘Dan, you gotta get up and see what’s going on. There’s smoke all over the place—all up and down the beach. Come on, get up.’ I didn’t know what she was screaming about; I was half asleep. And then suddenly I was wide awake. I could smell the smoke and my first thought was that our place was on fire. I remember rubbing my face to make sure that I wasn’t still asleep and dreaming. Iola yelled, ‘Don’t just stand there. Come out on the balcony and see what I’m telling you.’ I followed her out on the balcony and looked up the beach, where I saw the flames from a huge fire, biggest I ever saw in my life.”
    Hamilton looked at the detectives, shaking his head, and continued. “It was amazing. We had no idea what kind of a fire it was. I thought that it could have been one of those big gasoline tanks, where they store the stuff. But I really couldn’t tell.”
    Detective Linnert asked, “You followed the flames and drove up to the location, right?”
    “Yes, we were in a kind of shock and talked about it. We were concerned to know if it was going to spread our way,” he explained. “You get some scary thoughts when you’re confronted with something like this. I could see us hustling around trying to pack and rescue all of the things that we care about. But I figured I better keep calm and not do anything rash.”
    He shifted in his chair and continued. “Iola and I decided that I should go and see it firsthand.” He explained that he took Iola’s mother’s car and drove to the fire. “It was right at Thirty-third Street, blazing away. I wondered, with this fire practically out of control burning this car like it was a pack of wood shavings, why there were no firemen trying to put it out.” He looked at the two detectives cautiously, knowing his statement was not a complimentary