PATRICIA CORNWELL. Point of Origin

‘What do you think happened, Aunt Kay?’ Lucy suddenly broke the spell. ‘I mean, in your heart of hearts.’

‘Right now it’s impossible to say,’ I answered her the way I would anybody else. ‘And we shouldn’t assume anything, including gender or who might have been staying in the house.’

‘Teun is already thinking arson, and so am I,’ she matter-of-factly stated. ‘What’s weird is Pepper didn’t alert on anything in any areas where we thought he might.’

‘Like the master bathroom on the first floor,’ I said.

‘Nothing there. Poor Pepper worked like a dog and didn’t get fed.’

The Labrador retriever had been food-reward trained since his youth to detect hydrocarbon petroleum distillates, such as kerosene, gasoline, lighter fluid, paint thinner, solvents, lamp oil. All were possible, if not common, choices for the arsonist who wanted to start a major fire with the drop of a match. When accelerants are poured at a scene, they pool and flow as their vapors burn. The liquid soaks into fabric or bedding or carpet. It seeps under furniture and between the cracks in flooring. It is not water-soluble or easy to wash away, so if Pepper had found nothing to excite his nose, chances were good that nothing was there.

‘What we got to do is find out exactly what was in the house so we can begin to calculate the fuel load,’ Lucy went on as the music turned to violins, and strings and drums got sadder. ‘Then we can begin to get a better idea about what and how much would have been needed to get something like that going.’

‘There was melted aluminum and glass, and tremendous burning of the body in the upper legs and lower arms, any areas that weren’t spared by the glass door,’ I said. ‘That suggests to me the victim was down, possibly in the bathtub, when the fire reached her.’

‘It would be bizarre to think a fire like this started in a marble bathroom,’ my niece said.

‘What about electrical? Any possibility of that?’ I asked, and our motel’s red and yellow lighted sign floated above the highway, maybe a mile ahead.

‘Look, the place had been electrically upgraded. When fire reached the wires and insulation was degraded by heat, the ground wires came in contact with each other. The circuit failed, the wires arced and the circuit breakers tripped,’ she said. ‘That’s exactly what I would expect to happen whether the fire was set or not. It’s hard to say. There’s a lot left to look at, and of course the labs will do their thing. But whatever got that fire going, got it going fast. You can tell from some of the flooring. There’s a sharp demarcation between really deep charring and the unburned wood, and that means hot and fast.’

I remembered wood near the body looking just as she had described. It was alligatored, or blistered black on top, versus slowly burned all the way through.

‘First floor again?’ I asked as my private suspicions about this case grew darker.

‘Probably. Plus, we know things happened fast anyway based on when the alarm went off and what the firefighters found seventeen minutes later.’ She was quiet for a moment, then went on, ‘The bathroom, the possible hemorrhage in tissue near her left eye. What? Maybe she was taking a bath or shower? She’s overcome by carbon monoxide and falls and hits her head?’

‘It appears she was fully dressed when she died,’ I reminded her. ‘Including boots. If the smoke alarm goes off while you’re in the bath or shower, I doubt you’d take time to put on all that.’

Lucy turned the volume up even louder and adjusted the bass. Bells jingled with drums and I thought oddly of incense and myrrh. I wanted to lie in the sun with Benton and sleep. I wanted the ocean to roll over my feet as I walked in the morning exploring the beach, and I remembered Kenneth Sparkes as I had seen him last. I envisioned what was left of him turning up next.

‘This is called The Wolf Hunt, ‘ Lucy said as she turned into a white brick Shell Food Mart. ‘And maybe that’s what we’re on, huh? After the big bad wolf.’

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