It wasn't even a house anymore, let alone a home. The fire had made damn sure of that. It was just a blackened husk and a pile of debris, steam still rising from some detritus that managed to hold onto heat despite the winter chill.
I'm not sure what I thought I was doing, poking around at what was left. Fire investigation is a far cry from my usual work, and I never had any experience with a fire this size, outside of seeing a couple rage out of control. It's an awesome thing, like a train wreck, but somehow more alive. Awful, but its hard to pull your eyes away. What's left when its over is a corpse, and it becomes harder to look than not. Especially when you knew someone who'd been inside.
I wore my costume's gloves, to keep from getting any prints on anything I might touch, but otherwise I was wearing black, and I kept my hands in my pockets when I didn't need them. It's not the best camouflage, in most places, but I wasn't very worried about being seen until I was among the scorched remains. I wasn't the only one investigating, and I'd rather not become a suspect. The concept was ridiculous, and I'd been at Nora's Bar when it happened, but the authorities would have questions and it would take time for them to check out the alibi.
I carefully crept toward what was left of the house. I could have crossed to the scorched wreck too fast for anyone watching to see me, but that would disturb things even more than they'd already been. Feeling something underfoot, I crouched down for a closer look. Part of a beam of wood, and it hadn't burned much. It didn't happen to be knocked aside by those fighting the fire - it was thrown from the house before the whole place was engulfed. An explosion, or some serious firepower. I scowled and looked around the grass, finding more expelled wreckage among the trails of soot dragged away, by would-be rescuers and anyone else who might have been nearby.
Once I got closer to the foundation, I realized that digging through it wouldn't do me any good. There was a light breeze, so I wouldn't be able to pinpoint the location of any peculiar scents without being right on top of them. Instead, I circled around the site, just outside where the walls used to be.
The acrid odor wasn't unexpected, but there was something off about it. I felt like something was missing, but I couldn't put my finger on it - and, all considered, it might not mean much anyway. No way for me to tell what kind of magic may have been present, which might screw up the scents in the air. I slowed when I was downwind of the wreckage, picking out individual smells when I could. Burnt wood, paint, fabrics, natural and otherwise. A bit of burnt flesh, but not much, and some of it was probably leather. That's what was missing. I glared at the blackened ruin. It didn't add up, but with magic involved I couldn't be sure that two and two would make four. Pi or the square root of negative one were probably just as likely.
Broken glass crunched underfoot, and almost continued on my way when I realized it hadn't before. I circled around the building's remnants more carefully, and made a few laps before deciding there was a good deal less of it than one would expect. The windows should have been blown out by the fire, if the house was fully engulfed by the time help arrived. More magical influence, perhaps, or some of the windows were broken in before, or in the early stages of, the fire.
Something strong enough to knock out a section of a wall. Scents not matching up. Windows broken in, not out.
I worked it over as I slunk away, keeping an eye out for anyone else snooping about. I picked up the pace once I was away from the wreckage, jogging back to my office, where I made some notes about what I'd seen and smelled, what I hadn't. I jotted down a few plausible theories, and a couple that probably weren't, and put them in a case file. It would probably be staying open.
I'm not sure what I thought I was doing, poking around at what was left. Fire investigation is a far cry from my usual work, and I never had any experience with a fire this size, outside of seeing a couple rage out of control. It's an awesome thing, like a train wreck, but somehow more alive. Awful, but its hard to pull your eyes away. What's left when its over is a corpse, and it becomes harder to look than not. Especially when you knew someone who'd been inside.
I wore my costume's gloves, to keep from getting any prints on anything I might touch, but otherwise I was wearing black, and I kept my hands in my pockets when I didn't need them. It's not the best camouflage, in most places, but I wasn't very worried about being seen until I was among the scorched remains. I wasn't the only one investigating, and I'd rather not become a suspect. The concept was ridiculous, and I'd been at Nora's Bar when it happened, but the authorities would have questions and it would take time for them to check out the alibi.
I carefully crept toward what was left of the house. I could have crossed to the scorched wreck too fast for anyone watching to see me, but that would disturb things even more than they'd already been. Feeling something underfoot, I crouched down for a closer look. Part of a beam of wood, and it hadn't burned much. It didn't happen to be knocked aside by those fighting the fire - it was thrown from the house before the whole place was engulfed. An explosion, or some serious firepower. I scowled and looked around the grass, finding more expelled wreckage among the trails of soot dragged away, by would-be rescuers and anyone else who might have been nearby.
Once I got closer to the foundation, I realized that digging through it wouldn't do me any good. There was a light breeze, so I wouldn't be able to pinpoint the location of any peculiar scents without being right on top of them. Instead, I circled around the site, just outside where the walls used to be.
The acrid odor wasn't unexpected, but there was something off about it. I felt like something was missing, but I couldn't put my finger on it - and, all considered, it might not mean much anyway. No way for me to tell what kind of magic may have been present, which might screw up the scents in the air. I slowed when I was downwind of the wreckage, picking out individual smells when I could. Burnt wood, paint, fabrics, natural and otherwise. A bit of burnt flesh, but not much, and some of it was probably leather. That's what was missing. I glared at the blackened ruin. It didn't add up, but with magic involved I couldn't be sure that two and two would make four. Pi or the square root of negative one were probably just as likely.
Broken glass crunched underfoot, and almost continued on my way when I realized it hadn't before. I circled around the building's remnants more carefully, and made a few laps before deciding there was a good deal less of it than one would expect. The windows should have been blown out by the fire, if the house was fully engulfed by the time help arrived. More magical influence, perhaps, or some of the windows were broken in before, or in the early stages of, the fire.
Something strong enough to knock out a section of a wall. Scents not matching up. Windows broken in, not out.
I worked it over as I slunk away, keeping an eye out for anyone else snooping about. I picked up the pace once I was away from the wreckage, jogging back to my office, where I made some notes about what I'd seen and smelled, what I hadn't. I jotted down a few plausible theories, and a couple that probably weren't, and put them in a case file. It would probably be staying open.