Wendy set the time for around 9 PM. Most of the neighborhood would be inside, it would be dark, and there would be confusion.

I had unhooked the copper line and oil trickled out. Wendy went upstairs to do the rest.

She said her plan was to give her Mom enough liquor to knock her out. Then she would drag her to the back door as if she were attempting to escape up from the basement. She then would go trip the breaker, cutting off the main power and throw the lit lantern down into the oil to start the fire, as if her Mom had panicked at the oil on the floor and dropped it.

She ran screaming from the house at 9:05, “Fire! Fire! Mrs. Cooper!” and ran to my backyard in a very convincing panic.

“Now dear!” My ever-calm mother caught her by the shoulders, “where?”

“My house! Call 911!” My Dad dialed, while my Mom continued the questions. “Where is your mother?”

“Inside! She went downstairs to check the power! It went out!”

Smoke began pouring out the back door of her house. I stepped outside to watch.