Up in Flames Read Online Free Page A

of them towards the back room.
                  As the pathologist stood on the threshold of the room studying the damage, Andy Simmonds, one of the forensic team, called over to Casey. ‘That looks the most likely seat of the fire,’ he said and pointed to an area of charred floorboards in the middle of the room. Apart from the adult’s corpse and clumps of plaster, the area was bare of articles that might have started the fire. ‘Curious,’ was Simmonds’ comment. ‘Unless we’ve got a case of spontaneous combustion...’ He nodded around him. ‘You can see the progress of the fire across the room.’
                  Casey took his word for it. The room didn’t ‘speak’ to him as it obviously did to Simmonds.
                  ‘If this does turn out to be arson, I’d check out the local hospitals.’ Simmonds went on, ‘Arson can be a hazardous business — and not just for the intended victims.’
                  ‘What do you mean?’ Casey asked.
                  ‘Petrol evaporates at a very low temperature, so if there was a delay between setting an accelerant and lighting it, enough vapour can rise to create an oxygen-petroleum mixture that explodes — a fireball. Any arsonist may have sustained burns to their hands and faces. The local casualty departments could provide a rich source of suspects.’
                  Casey thanked him for the tip and added, ‘I’ll get it checked out.’
                  Dr Merriman had approached the first body while Casey and Andy Simmonds were talking. Without comment, he studied the corpse of the adult where it was lying on its back a couple of feet or so away from the area Andy had described as the likely centre of the fire. The body was covered in chunks of plaster from the ceiling.
                  The room looked even more desolate from the inside. Water from the firemen’s hoses still dripped down the blackened walls. What remained of the furniture was just springs and bars, the metal had twisted and contorted till, to the imaginative, each piece looked like a strange crouching beast, skeletal and sad.
                  Catt, seeing the still strangely undamaged blue idol in the corner, nodded at it and commented, ‘Must be a god of fire and naturally protected from flames.’
                  Casey didn’t correct him. But, as he had reason to know, the Hindu god of fire was Agni. And although he had lost his usual peacock feathers, Casey recognised him as Krishna; the many-faceted Hindu god, and while his many followers were particularly passionate, fire didn’t come under his sway. If he remembered rightly, the festival celebrating his birth was around this time of year.
                  The SOCOs in their hard hats and masks were still busy, collecting their various samples. Every so often one of them would call out to the civilian photographer to get a shot of something. Since the spate of local arson attacks Casey was becoming sadly familiar with the routine.
                  Dr Merriman beckoned them forward. Casey and Catt moved gingerly, trying to disturb as little as possible.
                  ‘Fierce blaze.’ As usual, the pathologist got straight to the point. He spared little time for social pleasantries. His thin, dry voice revealed no emotion as he added, ‘The adult has sixth degree burns. The infant, from the little I have so far observed, seems to have been burned to a lesser degree.’
                  Casey knew this was the highest category of burn. He could see that the skin tissue and muscles were mostly destroyed with the damage extending to the large blood vessels and bones. And as he stooped over the body on the floor, he noticed the trauma to the skull. ‘Looks like she was bludgeoned.’
                  Dr Merriman, as always, was non-committal. But his