The alarm on my watch woke me at four-thirty. It was still pitch black outside. This was one of the few days I could still deliver newspapers and I jumped on it. By eight o’clock, I’d finished my wide route that covered several small towns in our area. Mostly I delivered small advertising circulars, but there was one town that got its own newspaper once a week. Those were easy to chuck out of the window of my station wagon onto driveways as I barely slowed down.

When I was finished, I didn’t even go to Tina’s Plentiful. I knew I had to clear a few things up and satisfy my own curiosity before I got back to my regular routine. I drove directly to Alicia’s apartment building.

The fire department had allowed the other residents to return. I wandered through the front door and could still smell the smoke embedded in the cheap carpet and wallpaper. Eventually, they’d have to change all of that.

Alicia’s apartment had a piece of plywood nailed across the doorway, covered by police caution tape. I pictured how the blast had knocked the door off the hinges and saved the super’s life.

I was startled to hear someone call my name. I turned and saw the super coming down the hallway. He only had a couple of Band-Aids on his forehead and cheek.

I said, “Hey, Mike. Should you be back at work so soon?”

The tall man shrugged. “This is my only source of income. I’m not only the super, I own the building. I can’t afford to take a day off.”

“Did anyone come up with any answers?”

He shrugged. “The cops explained that we’re just a small town. They don’t have the resources or experience to do an in-depth investigation. They were certain enough that it was an accident. I agreed so the building wasn’t shut down for a long investigation. That’s good and bad. It’s good because my insurance company should pay off fairly easily. It’s bad because it makes it look like I don’t take care of my building.”

“Do you mind if I look around a little bit? I won’t damage anything or cause any problems.”

“You’re a private investigator, so as long as you don’t charge me, I don’t see why not. Besides, I owe you. Big-time.”

I brushed off his praise. I was also about to correct him and explain that I wasn’t an official private investigator. I had no license and hadn’t been vetted by the state. But I had some experience with explosives and a real interest in this case.

Mike said, “The door and some of the debris from the apartment are in the dumpster.”