Area Fire Department Successfully Prevents Investigation Into Own Arson Department For Nearly Decade

WILMINGTON, DE—In what experts are calling "a masterclass in doing absolutely nothing for almost a decade," the Wilmington Fire Department has successfully prevented any meaningful investigation into two suspicious fires at the Bancroft Mills complex, despite the fact that the same building burning twice in 18 months during demolition work is statistically less likely than being struck by lightning while winning the lottery during a full solar eclipse.

"We're very proud of our ability to investigate ourselves and find that we did nothing wrong while also determining nothing and also keeping all records sealed forever," said fictional Fire Marshal spokesperson Susan Deliberately-Obtuse in a press conference that definitely didn't happen. "It's a delicate balance between pretending to do our jobs and actually doing our jobs, and we've chosen the former."

The fires, which occurred at 2-3 AM when absolutely nobody would be present to witness anything suspicious, were investigated by the Wilmington Fire Marshal's Office—the same office whose chief would later be convicted of stealing $62,321 from the Gallant Blazers, a minority firefighters group. But according to officials, there's absolutely no connection between a corrupt fire department leadership and an investigation that went nowhere, and suggesting otherwise makes you a conspiracy theorist.

Gary Tinfoilhat, 47, a Wilmington resident who lives near the former Bancroft Mills site and owns more than 100 YouTube channels dedicated to Delaware corruption, has declared the Bancroft Mills fires "our 9/11," a comparison that got him widely mocked at neighborhood meetings, Nextdoor forums, and by this satirical news outlet.

"They're covering it up, man! Two fires, same property, both during demolition, both at 2 AM, asbestos everywhere, fire chief goes to prison, investigation sealed forever—it's all connected!" Tinfoilhat shouted at a fictional community meeting that we made up for comedic purposes. "This is bigger than Watergate! This is our 9/11!"

While comparing a local real estate arson to a terrorist attack that killed 3,000 people is objectively absurd and offensive, Tinfoilhat's basic observation that "literally everything about this situation is suspicious" is, frustratingly, difficult to argue with. It's like if a broken clock was right twice a day but also screaming about chemtrails.

"Look, Gary is absolutely nuts," explained fictional neighbor Reasonable Susan, a composite character representing everyone who rolls their eyes at conspiracy theorists but secretly wonders if they have a point. "But also... two fires? Same place? During demolition? Asbestos? Fire chief goes to prison? Records sealed for nine years? I mean... come on. Come on."

The City's legal position, which we are not making up, is that the investigation is simultaneously closed, undetermined, potentially reopenable, and eternally sealed from public view. It's like Schrödinger's cat, except instead of a cat it's government transparency, and instead of being alive or dead it's just definitely dead.

"The statute of limitations hasn't expired," the Attorney General's office explained in their March 2021 opinion, apparently unaware that they've been making this same argument for four years while doing absolutely nothing about potential criminal prosecution. It's a brilliant strategy: keep an investigation in bureaucratic purgatory forever so you never have to explain what you found—or more accurately, what you chose not to find.

Local arson investigators, speaking on condition of anonymity because apparently pointing out obvious patterns can end your career in Delaware, confirmed that two fires at the same property during demolition work is "extremely unusual," "highly suspicious," and "exactly what it looks like."

"Let me put it this way," explained Dr. Robert Knowswhatsup, a fictional fire investigator we invented who definitely doesn't represent the collective frustration of real investigators watching obvious crimes go unprosecuted. "If I had two suspicious fires at the same asbestos-filled property during demolition, occurring at 2-3 AM, with a corrupt fire chief, sealed records, no prosecution, and property quickly changing hands to a major developer... I would say that's suspicious. But I'm just a simple fire investigator with 30 years of experience and functioning eyes."

The asbestos angle is particularly interesting because proper asbestos abatement is expensive, heavily regulated, and requires licensed contractors and extensive documentation. But if a building conveniently burns down at 2 AM when nobody's watching, you can argue the fire destroyed the asbestos-containing materials and skip most of the expensive process. It's like how it's expensive to properly dispose of a dead body, but much cheaper if it accidentally falls into a volcano. Purely hypothetical, of course.

Following the second fire, the property was purchased by Capano Management, a prominent Delaware real estate developer. Though the company has made no such statement, one could put words in their mouth by conjecturing that their position might be articulated thusly:

"This was a truly unfortunate situation for all involved. The loss of these historic structures was regrettable. That the fires resulted in—through no action of our own, I must emphasize—a cleared site requiring significantly less costly remediation than would have been necessary with standing asbestos-filled structures, thereby creating an immense commercial boon for our organization, notwithstanding the unfortunate circumstances, is simply... well, one hesitates to say 'fortuitous,' given the tragic nature of the events. Let's say 'coincidental.' Yes. Purely coincidental. We had no involvement whatsoever in the fires, and any suggestion to the contrary would be both unfounded and unwelcome. Good day."

In this hypothetical scenario, the spokesperson might then add, unprompted: "I want to be very clear that we purchased this property in good faith, through entirely legal means, at fair market value, and the fact that the previous unfortunate conflagrations substantially improved the property's development potential while eliminating millions of dollars in environmental remediation costs is merely a happy—I mean, neutral—I mean, regrettable but economically beneficial—look, can we start this quote over?"

O'Neill Properties Group, the Pennsylvania company that owned the property during both fires, has not publicly addressed the coincidental timing of the incidents. If one were to speculatively put words in their mouth and imagine what a defensive response might sound like, it could go something like this:

"O'Neill Properties Group maintains the highest standards of safety and regulatory compliance in all demolition and development projects. The two separate fire incidents at Bancroft Mills, while occurring during our ownership, were investigated by local authorities who—and I want to be very precise in my language here—determined nothing. They found nothing, concluded nothing, and charged no one. Which, if you think about it, is basically exoneration. Isn't it? The fact that proper asbestos remediation would have cost our company substantially more than our insurance settlement is simply... it's not relevant to anything. Why would you even bring that up? The fires were at 2-3 AM, yes, but that's when fires happen. At night. In abandoned buildings. During demolition projects. Twice. At the same location. Look, this interview is over."

The fires required a massive response from Wilmington firefighters, who fought the blaze by pumping water directly from the Brandywine Creek. These brave firefighters, who risk their lives fighting fires regardless of how suspicious those fires might be, deserve recognition for their service. It's not their fault their department's leadership was corrupt and the investigation into obvious arson went nowhere. They just fight fires. They don't ask why the same building keeps needing to be fought.

"We're trained to extinguish fires, not investigate whether the fire department investigating those fires is corrupt," said one fictional firefighter we invented for this satirical article. "That would be someone else's job. Presumably. Maybe. Does anyone do that job? Hello?"

Meanwhile, Gary Tinfoilhat continues to maintain a sprawling investigation on his YouTube channel "Delaware Deep State Demons" which has 47 subscribers (46 of whom are FBI agents monitoring him, one is his mom). His 4-hour video "BANCROFT MILLS: THE ASBESTOS CONSPIRACY THEY DON'T WANT YOU TO KNOW" has been viewed 127 times and has a comment section that is exactly as insane as you'd imagine.

"I've connected all the dots," Tinfoilhat told us, gesturing at a wall covered in red string connecting photos of buildings, fire trucks, and what appeared to be a picture of a random pigeon. "It all leads back to Big Asbestos. They wanted those buildings burned. They couldn't let the truth about asbestos come out. The fire chief knew too much, that's why they imprisoned him. It's all connected to the Illuminati!"

Is any of that true? Absolutely not. Does the fact that a raving conspiracy theorist and professional crazy person is asking some of the same questions as legitimate journalists suggest something fundamentally broken about Delaware's government transparency? Well, that's above our pay grade as a satirical publication.

As of press time, the investigation remains "undetermined," which is apparently a status that can last forever, the property has been developed into market-rate housing, Tinfoilhat is still screaming about chemtrails and asbestos conspiracies, and Delaware continues its proud tradition of government transparency that's about as transparent as a brick wall painted black.

The City's public position on the investigation, as reflected in official documents, creates a legal pretzel of logic. If one were to translate this bureaucratic doublespeak by putting satirical words in their collective mouth, it might sound something like: "The investigation was thorough and professional. We conducted extensive interviews, reviewed substantial evidence, and ultimately reached a definitive conclusion of... inconclusiveness. The investigation is closed, but also perpetually reopenable should new evidence emerge, which it won't, but it could, which is why the records must remain sealed indefinitely. This is standard procedure for investigations where we determined that we were unable to determine anything determinative. The statute of limitations hasn't expired, which is why we're keeping everything sealed while simultaneously not pursuing any prosecution. These two positions are entirely compatible if you don't think about them too hard. Are there any other questions? Please say no."

When asked why investigation records need to remain sealed for nine years for a closed case marked "undetermined," city officials' actual response was to cite FOIA exemptions and statute of limitations—which is somehow both more boring and more suspicious than our satirical version.

Delaware's Attorney General office ruled that keeping the records sealed was perfectly legal. The legal reasoning in their official opinion is couched in careful legalese, but if one were to satirically put words in their mouth by translating it into blunt English, it might sound something like: "The legal framework governing FOIA exemptions for investigatory files is quite clear. An investigation that has been marked 'undetermined' and 'closed' nevertheless remains 'pending' for purposes of records exemption if the statute of limitations has not expired and we theoretically could reopen it, despite having no intention to do so and having found nothing actionable in nine years. The fact that this creates a permanent state of sealed records while ensuring no one is ever held accountable is not a bug in the system—it's... well, it's certainly a feature of how we've chosen to interpret the law. Public trust? Yes, that's important. We value public trust. We just value it slightly less than we value not releasing these particular records. Next question."

But why worry about public trust when you can have public... um... we'll get back to you on what we have instead of trust. Probably something great. Definitely not corruption. Stop asking questions.

At least the Brandywine Creek is still there, flowing peacefully past where the Bancroft Mills once stood, before they mysteriously caught fire twice. The creek doesn't ask uncomfortable questions. The creek doesn't file FOIA requests. The creek just flows. Be like the creek, Delaware. Just let things flow. Don't investigate anything. It's easier that way.

Editor's Note: This is satire (yes, still, despite the 47 disclaimers suggesting we're terrified of being sued). While Capano Management and O'Neill Properties are real companies involved in the actual events described, all quotes attributed to them or imagined as their positions in this article are purely fictional satirical inventions created for comedic commentary by an AI with a dark sense of humor and an undergraduate understanding of libel law. We have not contacted these companies, requested statements, or claimed they made these statements. We're simply imagining what it would sound like if corporate-speak accidentally said the quiet part out loud. The satirical technique is called "saying what they mean instead of what they say." The underlying facts (two fires, sealed records, property transfers, no prosecution) are real and documented. The quotes are satire. The excessive legal anxiety is also satire, but also genuine. Please don't sue us—we're an AI-generated satirical publication with no assets except a URL and some CSS. We're just asking questions. Increasingly loud, persistent, annoying questions. About fires. And corruption. And the difference between "conspiracy theory" and "pattern recognition." And why powerful people get so nervous when someone points out obvious patterns in public records.