“Get him out of here,” Stanton said to Gunn.
Gunn responded without asking for a reason. He walked over to Benny and whispered something in his ear. Stanton could hear Benny say, “What? What the fuck for?” Gunn whispered something else and Benny packed up his gear and left.
“I hope you got another arson investigator ‘cause I ain’t got no idea what I’m lookin’ at,” Gunn said, walking back toward Stanton.
“Yeah, I texted her on the way down here. She should be calling me.”
“Oh, your little filly, huh? Trying to pad her hours a little bit?”
“She didn’t charge us for last time. I don’t think she cares about money. Do we have IDs yet?”
“Yeah,” Gunn said, taking out his iPhone and retrieving a notepad app, “Jesse and Darlene Brichard. Their two boys, aged ten and eleven. He’s an airline pilot and she’s a stay at home mom. Neighbors said they’re a good family. No shady people ever comin’ over or nothin’ like that. Pulled their criminal histories, nothing but a few speeding tickets.”
Stanton walked over to one of the forensic techs standing over the bodies. He was holding a camera and leaning over, trying to snap a photo of some teeth on one of the corpses.
“Jon, Stephen,” the tech said without looking up from what he was doing, “how are you guys?”
“Better than these poor fucks,” Gunn said.
“That’s the understatement of the year.”
“Fuck me, you CSIs always have to be such fucking nerds?”
“Matty,” Stanton interrupted, “we need to preserve everything for the arson investigator. Don’t let the ME’s guys take the bodies until she has a look.”
“Not sure I can help you with that, Detective. These bodies are barely held together. I’ve never seen a fire burn so hot. It was like an incinerator in here. Even some of the bones are little more than ash. Big ones, the tibula and fibula, spine, they’re still there, but the bones in all the hands and feet are done. The two little ones might break down and go with the wind any second. I’ve never seen a fire so hot.”
“You already said that,” Gunn said, annoyed. “Just do your best and don’t fuck anythin’ up until Jon’s girlfriend gets here.”
Stanton ignored him and leaned down. The bodies were burned to an absolute black. On many burn victims, there would be patches of flesh color or the red muscle exposed underneath skin that had been seared away. Nothing like that with these victims. They were burned so thoroughly that there wasn’t a single inch of flesh that hadn’t turned to ash. He had never seen anything like it.
“Any of the neighbors see anything?”
Gunn shrugged. “We canvased up and down but not that many people home from work yet. We’ll try again tonight; see if anyone saw anything when they was heading out to work this morning.”
Stanton’s phone rang; it was Emma.
“Hey.”
“Hey, Jon. I got your text. Look I’m sorry but I only did that one favor for you guys to help out that kid. I can’t come to your scene.”
“I’ve never even heard of anything like this, Emma. Even the bones have turned to ash. The fire must’ve been two or three thousand degrees. How can a fire burn that hot?”
“Specific spots in flashpoints can certainly get up that high. I’ve never heard of an entire house getting that temperature, though. The victim must’ve been close to a fuel source during flashpoint.”
“Victims. They’re bound with chain. It’s melted but I can see remnants of it on the ground surrounding them.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But I can’t help you. I’ve told you before; I don’t work with law enforcement.”
“Could you just come supervise our guy and make sure he doesn’t screw it up?”
“Sorry, Jon. But if he nails the wrong suspect again, I will testify for the defense about his incompetence. In fact, I’ve contacted the fire marshal. He shouldn’t be investigating fires anymore.”
“Let me guess; the fire marshal’s assistant said they’ll get the message to him and give you a call back, but so far no one’s contacted you?”
“That’s just normal-”
“Yes, it is normal. And your complaint went into a trash bin. Benny’s going to retire on this job and when he leaves, he picks his successor who’ll be just as bad as he is. That’s how government works. I’m asking for your help.”
“I know, and you have no idea how much I would like to help you. But I can’t. I’m sorry. I understand if you want to cancel our date.”
“No,” Stanton said, “no, our work shouldn’t interfere with that. I’ll call you later.”
“Okay, bye.”
Gunn said, “No go, huh?”
“Get Benny back here. But don’t let him out of your sight for a second.”
CHAPTER 21
It had been two days since Stanton left the fire site of the Brichards’ home and he didn’t have anything more than he had when he’d arrived at the scene. He had spoken with a dozen neighbors and none of them had seen or heard anything. No family members could identify any trouble between the couple; no one hinted that it may have been a murder-suicide.
As he got on the freeway, he received a text from Gunn asking if he wanted to hit a couple of the clubs Cisneros had frequented when he had been alive. Spending his night at the city’s gay clubs wasn’t how he expected his Friday night to go, but he agreed.
He picked up Gunn at an apartment complex he hadn’t been to before. He was sitting on the steps, smoking, and he threw his cigarette on the ground when he saw him and then looked up and said something to a woman that was sitting on her balcony on the top floor.
“Who was that?” Stanton asked.
Gunn leaned the seat back and rolled down his window. “Just a piece of ass. I talked to Cisneros’ mom again. She gave me a list of the three clubs he most liked to go to.”
“He told his mom what gay clubs he liked to go to?”
“Hey, some parents are more progressive than others. My old man woulda put my head through a wall. Different strokes for different folks.”
Stanton put the name of the first club, Playland, into his GPS. It was on Fifth Avenue not far from where they were. The building itself looked like a warehouse surrounded by parking lots and Stanton saw the homeless shelter down the block. Though night had fallen, there was a line around the corner, people waiting for any amount of food that had been leftover from the five o’clock dinner. Many of them appeared young, no more than eighteen or nineteen.
“What d’ya think makes these kids wanna live on the streets?” Gunn asked.
“Some of them are drug addicts and it’s easier to live on the street than try to maintain a job. Some of them are mentally ill and the asylums are full…a lot of ‘em come from abusive homes and they think the streets are better.”
“Fuck, with all the sick fucks we got out here? These kids don’t know what they’re doin’. They need a good kick in the ass is what they need.”
Stanton pulled the car in front of the club and parked. They got out and Stanton had to look for the entrance; it wasn’t obvious exactly how you got into the building. He saw a ramp leading to what looked like an underground garage and they followed it until they got to a large black door. Stanton could hear voices inside and he pounded on it with his palm. After a few seconds, an Asian man in a tight black shirt answered.
“Yeah?”
Stanton flashed his badge. “We need to talk to the manager.”
“Which one?”
“Whoever is here the most and would recognize a regular.”
“I don’t have to let you in without a warrant.”
“Look,” Gunn said, “Slant-eyed Pete, don’t make me bust your fuckin’ head open and come in there. I’m sure I’m gonna find some coke, probably some illegal porn, maybe a gun or two though I know you fags don’t like the feel of a real man’s gun in your hand.”
“Fuck you.”
Before Stanton could stop him, Gunn had grabbed the man by the throat and slammed his head into the door. The man began to fight back and Gunn took out an extendable baton from his belt, opened it, and whacked the guy on the head twice before he grabbed his hand, pressed it on the door, and crushed two of his fingers with the baton. It happened so quickly Stanton couldn’t even respond in time.