Leija’s dramatic rescue was captured on film by local television stations. By the next day he was hailed as a hero. “Good Morning America” had him as a guest. Local stations and newspapers clamored for exclusive interviews. But the love of the limelight that led Leija to give interview after interview has now earned him a very different type of attention. On Monday, Leija was arrested on an outstanding warrant after a sheriff’s deputy recognized him on the news. And by the end of the week he was considered a suspect in starting the fire that brought him fame. This is the second time in less than a year that Leija has been involved in rescue efforts at a burning building (although the first time he’s done it in front of the camera); last August, Leija was close by when a duplex caught fire blocks away from where the latest blaze occurred. “For no other reason than that, we have to look at him as a possible suspect,” Abilene Fire Lt. Randy Doan told NEWSWEEK. Leija denies setting either fire.
Leija does have some of an arsonist’s traits, profilers say. “Fire starters tend to be under 30,” says John DeHaan, one of the top arson investigators in the country. “They may have had previous run-ins with the law. And they’re overwhelmingly male.” If it turns out that Leija did set the Abilene fire, he’ll be the latest in a series of high-profile arsonists who seem to set fires just so they can play the part of the hero. Last year Edmond Safra’s nurse was convicted of setting the fire that killed the Monaco-based billionaire; the nurse, Ted Maher, admitted he hoped to get gratitude and recognition for saving his boss’s life.
“Hero-setters” tend to be either volunteer firefighters looking for excitement or small-time crooks escalating their crimes, says Chris Rush, a former New York City policeman who operates a private consulting firm that specializes in criminal profiling. “You need to look at anyone who’s repeatedly at the scene of fires, and seems eager to get into the spotlight,” Rush says. “That’s what these guys do.”
Leija, who says his rescues were the result of nothing more than random luck, insists he’s confused by all the hullabaloo. “It makes me feel so good to hear people call me a hero,” he told NEWSWEEK from his mother’s apartment, sporting an electronic monitoring bracelet strapped to his ankle. “I feel like a hero, but the way that they’re treating me now, people are calling me a suspect. And it’s hard to put that and a hero together.”
