“No point,” Hillman said as I tried to prop myself on an elbow and look up at him. Had to shudder back down. I could feel an icy cold burning in my shoulder, in my leg. Bits of molten coal hidden under the ice. I could see but not feel the bandage on my leg.

“You gave me something,” I slurred.

“Painkiller. Hold you for now. Could’ve let you die. Remember that.”

“This is kidnapping.”

“We saved your life,” Hillman said. “Langer would’ve let you burn alive and walked away laughing.”

“Who set the fire?” I asked.

Hillman didn’t answer, had found a stool or something from the bathroom, was perched on it, looming over me. Some satisfaction in how he sported a black eye, purpling bruises.

“You set the fire, didn’t you?” Or Hellbender. “And Langer? Is he dead?” Like if I knew the answers, everything would be fine.

Hillman ignored me.

Up close, Hillman’s face was more thoughtful than I remembered it. Creased brow, quick, green eyes, and some thought to the sophistication of a suit I hadn’t ripped apart yet. He smelled of a subtle aftershave.

Hillman took out a long cardboard box. A coffin for a large doll?

“Boss said to tell you there was another clue, but he found it first. No one cares about these clues anyway. It’s like something a kid would do. He says.”

Hillman pulled something out of the box. My heart stopped or I stopped breathing, had to remember how again.

The salamander. A burnt umber color, with two wide yellow stripes down the back. Startling. Iridescent, almost bright gold. Tiny smooth bumps to the skin. Posed in a sinuous way, like a living river. Flat. Wide. Maybe as long as the box. But the small eyes and mouth gave the creature a vulnerable quality.

The salamander almost seemed to smile. Reassuring me.

Then Hillman set it on fire. I’d been so focused on the salamander, I hadn’t seen him take out the lighter.

“No!” I screamed, and I must’ve lunged at Hillman, because one of the other two kicked me and I fell over again, doubled over in pain and frustration.

Hillman dropped the salamander into a large metal wastebasket … and watched it burn.

“So now there’s nothing to investigate anyway, right?”

The salamander began to turn black, and a stench rose from it. One of them slid the balcony doors open to let in fresh air.

While I was bereaved, aghast, watching the face of the answer that had eluded me begin to melt, taking the smile with it. Watching my past melt away.

One of the other men had brought a laptop over, and Hillman retreated from the stool so the laptop could rest there.

Following that motion, I realized someone else was tied to another chair, just beyond my peripheral vision. Someone quiet. The positioning seemed purposeful. What I wasn’t meant to see.