By early evening, the neighbors were getting pretty tired of it. Judging by their observations and the wife's story, about nine the husband, who until then had been just shouting and threatening and hitting the wall with his fists, started hitting his wife. She hit back for a while, then fell, and he kicked her. She screamed for help and one of the neighbors, too frightened to go in or knock, called the police.
Meanwhile, the brother had come to the wife's defense. He attacked the husband, who by now was in a blind rage. The husband pushed the brother, who fell over the wife, and then the husband grabbed a can of lighter fluid, ran wild, spraying it along the living room and kitchen walls, and lighted it. The brother surged up off the floor. The wife, terrified, crawled to what she thought was the front door, but she was dazed from several blows, and now smoke was filling the room, and she actually went into the kitchen.
Meanwhile, the brother had picked up a chair and hit the husband over the head, hard. The husband went down.
Deputy Willis continued: "Officer Figueroa, what you should have done after Officer Bennis left with the baby was to attempt to get Mr. Molitor out. You might not have succeeded, but you should have tried."
"I knew the man on the floor was dead. He was cold."
"Officer Bennis, was he cold?"
Bennis swallowed. Figueroa fixed him with her eyes, but he didn't look at her. For a moment he straightened up, squaring his shoulders, as if he were steeling himself to take action. Then his face sagged.
"He was still warm," he said.
