Dawn the next morning was brushed with glorious colours. The summer Sun climbed into a cloudless sky and birds sang from the trees. Each song note seemed echoed by a new hue in the brightening sky.
The trouble was, it being Summer, dawn was four-thirty in the morning. And Detective Sergeant Markus Inglefield had bloody well been awake to see it all.
His mobile phone had gone off an hour earlier, shattering a deep sleep. The un-asked for wakeup call informed him there was a fire at a warehouse...