The snow lit up crimson, scarred an acrid black. The heat rolled, barrelling outwards so that the knot of people gathered in the street recoiled, turning their heads towards the cold night. A sound like champagne corks popping, the tinkle of glass and clouds of thicket dense smoke billowed from the now shattered windows. The police tape had been taken down this morning.“Shit.” Tom pulled his radio free from his jacket pocket, toggling it to send. “DC Allison, I’ve got a fire at the residence of Libby Hanover. We just released it as a crime scene. I’m going to need the fire service, quick as they can.”The crinkle of static. “Received. Casualties?”“Negative. House was empty.” But there was something, a nudge at the edge of his consciousness that made him hesitate. Scanning the street. What had he seen? Then a break in the crowd, a tiny movement, and he saw the car. A silver Audi, an A5, paintwork bubbling under the force of the heat. “Shit.”“Repeat last, please?”“There’s, shit, there’s someone inside.”“Oh my god!”
