been the floor was now a yawning black hole. An extension ladder angled from it in our direction. Through the opening I could see men in hard hats lifting debris and either flinging or carrying it out of sight.
“There is a body down there,” said my guide, tipping his head at the opening. “Found it when we began to clear rubble from the floor collapse.”
“Just one, or more?” I asked.
“Hell if I know. It doesn’t hardly look human.”
“Adult or child?”
He gave me a “lady, are you stupid?” look.
“When can I get down there?”
His eyes slid to LaManche, back to me. “That’s up to the chief. They’re still clearing the area. We wouldn’t want anything to split your pretty skull.”
He gave me what he no doubt felt was an engaging smile. He probably practiced it in the mirror.
We watched as firemen below pitched boards and tramped back and forth with loads of debris. From out of sight I could hear banter and the sound of things being dislodged and dragged.
“Have they considered that they might be destroying evidence?” I asked.
The fireman looked at me as if I’d suggested the house had been hit by a comet.
“It’s just floorboards and shit that fell down from this level.”
“That ‘shit’ may help establish sequence,” I said, my voice as chilly as the icicles on the counter behind us. “Or body position.”
His face went rigid.
“There could still be hot spots down there, lady. You don’t want one flaring up in your face, do you?”
I had to admit I didn’t.
“And that guy’s past caring.”
Inside my hard hat I could feel a throbbing along the side of my pretty skull.
“If the victim is as burned as you suggest, your colleagues could be obliterating major body parts.”
His jaw muscle bunched as he looked past me for support. LaManche said nothing.
“The chief’s probably not gonna let you in there, anyway,” he said.
“I need to get in now to stabilize what’s there. Especially the teeth.” I thought of baby boys. I hoped for teeth. Lots of them. All adult. “If there are any left.”
The fireman gave me a head to toe, sizing up my five-foot-five, one-hundred-twenty-pound frame. Though the thermal outfitting disguised my shape and the hard hat hid my long hair, he saw enough to convince himself I belonged elsewhere.
“She’s not really going down there?” He looked to LaManche for an ally.
“Dr. Brennan will be doing the recovery.”
“
This time I didn’t need translation. Fireman Macho thought the job required testicles.
“Hot spots are no problem,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “In fact, I usually prefer to work right in the flames. I find it warmer.”
With that he gripped the side rails, swung onto the ladder, and slid down, never touching the rungs with his feet.
Great. He also does tricks. I could imagine what he was scripting for the chief.
“These are volunteers,” said LaManche, almost smiling. He looked like Mr. Ed in a hard hat. “I must finish upstairs, but I will rejoin you shortly.”
I watched him weave a path to the door, his large, hooded frame hunched in concentration. Seconds later the chief emerged on the ladder. It was the same man who’d directed us to the upstairs bodies.
“You’re Dr. Brennan?” he asked in English.
I nodded once, ready for a fight.
“Luc Grenier. I head up the St-Jovite volunteer squad.” He unsnapped his chin strap and let it dangle. He was older than his misogynous teammate.
“We’re going to need another ten, fifteen minutes to secure the lower level. This was the last section we put down, so there could still be hot spots.” The strap jumped as he talked. “This was a pisser, and we don’t want a flare-up.” He pointed behind me. “See how that pipe’s deformed?”
I turned to look.
“That’s copper. To melt copper you’ve got to get up over eleven hundred degrees centigrade.” He shook his head, and the strap swung back and forth. “This was a real pisser.”
“Do you know how it started?” I asked.
He pointed to a propane tank near my feet. “So far we’ve counted twelve of those suckers. Either someone knew exactly what he was doing, or he really fucked up the family barbecue.” His face reddened slightly. “Sorry.”
