The nice arsonist neighbor

For months, I would look at every woman and ask myself if she was one of the arsonists, the German friend who told us the story said.

The story is one of those people do not talk about to strangers. It is part of the fabric of the community, and everybody has an idea of who was involved, or they themselves were part of it.

The police investigates these events, as do the insurance companies, yet both get nowhere.

On trips around the area, we had seen the building in the narrow canyon. It must have been pretty once, a three level art deco house with corner turrets and hints of elaborate facade decorations. Sitting halfway up the hillside, a spacious porch ran along the whole width on both the second and the third floors, elevating the inhabitants above the damp bottom of the canyon, giving them a view across the top of an outcrop that cast an almost permanent shade on the small creek at the foot of the hill.

There were no neighbors for some two miles in any direction, which is as close to solitude as you can get in this part of Germany.

Like a handful of other houses outside of town in this region, it had been built as a summer home by a newly rich company owner around the turn of the 20th century, late eighteen hundreds is when they started, the friend said.

When we passed on the nearby narrow country road, half of it was a charred ruin, with roof timbers exposed to the elements. On one end, the fire had not done as much damage, and someone obviously lived there, as the thin puffs of smoke of a chimney on a cool spring day indicated.

In its one hundred year or so history, the house had changed owners several times, starting in the 1950s. Some found it too out of the way, some too claustrophobic when they retired and lived there year round. You will get sea legs if you live there full time, there's no flat ground really, except for the driveway.

One day, a middle aged couple bought the place and opened a weekend escape house. Well,  a party house, a place for swingers.

Really?  Around here?

Yes, and growing up, none of the adults would mention a word. Then, one day, it was on fire, and the adult would simply say, - I don't recall their name - oh, yeah, the Miller's house burned down last night. There was not much talk about the cause of the fire. The damage was nothing like its present state, and they were back in business after a few months.

Less than a year later, though, a blaze almost completely gutted the establishment. This time, there was lots of talk, the police investigated the arson, and an insurance agent was knocking on doors in the two nearest small towns.

Who do you think did it? That's were get to the women. There is a persistent rumor that some women from one of neighboring towns banded together to set the place on fire. Allegedly, some found out that their husbands made up part of the "single males" contingent which provided extra, shall we say manpower at the club.

A few people say the owners themselves set the fire, but the other version beats this one hands down in local folklore.

What can be said for certain it that it was arson, and that the insurance did not pay up. The owners continue to live in the still habitable part of the house.