One under each arm, I carried them out of the inferno. Most of Ann's clothes were gone, burned off. Her flesh, raw and red, was exposed.
"They—they burst in. When Tom tried to stop them, they slugged him. They also hit me."
"They left both of you there after setting the lab on fire?"
"Yes. I think they hoped the fire would cover up their theft."
"And that it would also cover up you and Tom." In my mind's eyes, I was thinking what I would do to Long Jaw if I ever caught him again. "What did they take?"
"The painting."
I didn't have time to wonder what there was about the painting that was valuable enough to justify murder and theft. Fire engines with bells clanging were screeching to a halt in the drive. Men in rubber coats began yanking hose from the truck. They worked as if they knew exactly what to do and how to do it. They also wanted to talk to me, but I didn't have time to tell them anything except that it was their fire from here on. Putting Tom and Ann into my car, I mashed the accelerator to the floorboard.
The doctor in the emergency receiving room of the hospital didn't waste any time on diagnosis. He took one look at the man I was carrying and a second look at the woman leaning on my arm, and went to work. He had Tom and Ann in separate rooms, with plasma and oxygen flowing into them, within minutes, and before I knew what was happening a nurse had thrown me out. I paced up and down the corridor for the two hours before I was able to get hold of Dr. Crane again.
"The woman has third degree burns," he told me when I cornered him. "The man has only first degree. However, he has a slight brain concussion."
"Will they be all right?"