"Ha!" the officer said, understanding the trick immediately. "Bad sign to find the door open! I'd prefer it triple-locked."
The note and pin on the table confirmed the sad truth that Andrea had fled.
But the officer was too experienced to be convinced by a single piece of evidence. He glanced around, checked the bed, shook the curtains, opened closets, and finally stopped at the fireplace.
Andrea had carefully left no footprints in the ashes, but the chimney was still an exit and couldn't be ignored.
The officer had soldiers bring sticks and straw. They filled the chimney and lit it. Fire crackled and smoke rose like vapor from a volcano, but no prisoner fell down as expected.
The truth was, Andrea had been at war with society since childhood. He was just as clever as any officer and had prepared for the fire. He'd climbed onto the roof and was crouching behind chimney pots.
For a moment he thought he was saved when he heard the officer shout to his men: "He's not here!"
