“Do you think the body is that Dale fella?” asked Captain Gupta, holding his hand over his nose to smother the smell.
Matt shrugged. “Pretty badly burnt whoever it is. Are you sure you didn’t see anyone else in this vicinity with Dale?”
“Like I said we…”
“You and the others were too busy trying to put out the fire.” He made a clicking sound with his tongue. “My guess, based on the timing and the degree of damage to the body, that an accelerant of some kind was used to finish off the job. But that’ll be up to forensics to determine.”
“You appear troubled.”
“I am. It’s one thing to murder someone, but why go to this extent?” He noticed Susan entering at the rear of the house. “In the meantime, you and the other constables secure the scene and establish perimeters. After, wait here until they come. I don’t want this crime scene contaminated anymore than it already is.”
“Where are you going?”
“To find Ms Susan Henderson and continue our little tête-à -tête,” he called out over his shoulder. His stride picked up toward the rear of the residence. A strange feeling of someone watching him caused him to glance up at the battery of windows along the side of the building. Susan and Alan peered down at him from the top floor. When they turned away and closed the curtain, he knew their location. They were in Alan’s room. Adrenalin surged! And the tempo of his stride transitioned from a fast clip pace to an outright run.
He pushed the oak-panel rear door open and kicked it shut with his heel before scampering up the back stairs to the top floor. The door to Alan’s bedroom was wide open. Slowly, he approached the room and cautiously gazed in. There was no discernible sound or movement. He called out, “Susan? Alan?” Hearing no reply, he entered. The room is tidy enough, he thought. The light in the bathroom attracted his attention. Again, he called out, “Susan?! Alan?!” Again, no reply. He crossed the room and entered the bathroom. A gaping hole in the ceiling immediately garnered his attention as did the ceiling tiles scattered haphazardly on the floor. Pulling in a chair from outside the bathroom, he stood on it to peer into the ceiling cavity with the assistance of the light from his cellphone. At first, he saw nothing except a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. Then, on his second scan, it appeared. The curled edge of what appeared to be a folder. He reached out to grasped it, but it was just outside his clutch. He stepped down from the chair and began his search for a device to help him retrieve it. Several minutes passed before he finally found what he needed; it was a stainless-steel handle toilet plunger that had been housed in a dome-shaped cover hidden outside his line of vision in the far corner of the bathroom.
He entered the outer room where the lighting was better and sat on Alan’s bed and opened the folder. Several photos spilled onto his lap and cascaded onto the floor. Gathering them all together, he perused each carefully before allocating them to one of two piles. All the photos had been dated alongside the time of day and their location and the name of the person or persons photographed. There were twenty photos in all, but only five were of particular interest to him.