The Next Great Discovery

Leni was about to call Natalie when she heard sirens and her cell phone bleated Charlene’s ringtone. “Fire at the old mill,” the editor said. “Get out there.” Leni speed-dialed Natalie as she jumped into her car, but the call went to voicemail. On her way to my house, Leni thought and left a message. She would not be going to The City today after all. As she neared the site, she made her way through a convergence of pickup trucks belonging to the volunteer firefighters. The county relied on the volunteers, who dropped whatever they were doing to rush to the scene. Leni parked on the highway and started toward the action on foot. A state police trooper she did not recognize stopped her but let her through with a warning to keep her distance when she showed him her press pass. The sheer volume of noise, the roar of the flames, and loud, explosive crashes as charred timbers fell surprised her. It sounded like a diesel locomotive trying to escape the roundhouse while destroying it in the process. She felt the heat as she neared the site. The mill was engulfed in flames that shot sparks high into the air. Fingers of fire shot out of the windows, ate their way through the dry wood of the walls, and escaped through holes in the roof. The firefighters pulled hoses from two pumper trucks. They sprayed strong jets of water that did not stand a chance against the conflagration. The mill was doomed. Leni snapped some photos. Charlene would not be happy that so many images were from the same angle. She could get others later when the flames died down. As it was, a fireman gestured at her to move farther away. It was a very long afternoon. The local media turned out in force. A videographer from the college and the newscaster/DJ/janitor from the town’s radio station arrived shortly after Leni. A crew from KMBC, channel nine in Kansas City, showed up an hour or so later. It was probably a slow news day in The City. Doug was on the scene in the early afternoon when the fire was still raging but was called back to town to take care of other business. He returned around six o’clock with a Chicago hotdog from Sonic and a large Diet Coke for Leni. She knew that duty brought him out there but that he thought to bring her supper was unexpected after his morning rant. Maybe the bear claw had bought her some goodwill after all. The videographer and the KMBC crew departed when the flames subsided to smoldering embers. The radio guy left even earlier. He had to get on the air with the evening call-in show. Leni promised to let him know if anything interesting happened. Martine called a couple of times to find out what was happening. The smoke had drifted as far as the town square, and her customers wanted to know the latest. She said Justin Doucette called, looking for Natalie, but there was no message. Leni hoped Justin’s call meant he had discovered something about the axe head. Eager to find out what he might have learned, Leni called him. After introducing herself, she said, “We didn’t think you would call before Monday. Natalie’s in a research library. No phone. What’s up?” He hesitated. “She asked me to check something for her.” “Yes, the axe head.” “I found that,” he said, “and something else she’ll want to know about. Something troubling. I really should talk to Natalie.” Leni half expected Natalie to stop by the fire on her way home from the museum. “I’ll see her later. I’ll be sure she calls you.” It was nearly dark before the fire chief deemed it safe for his men to enter the mill. Large light stands, run by a generator, were erected near the building and aimed into the deep basement. The wooden superstructure was gone but for some charred timbers that only hinted at the historic edifice they once supported. With the floors and roof burned away, the remaining stone walls were open from the basement to the sky. Leni made her way toward the front door on the upslope side. The stone was warm to the touch. Nothing remained of the door but the iron hinges hanging from the charred door frame. The big lock and handle must have fallen into the basement. The basement was a mess of smoking ash and charred wood. She saw a couple of firefighters with substantial battery lanterns enter the basement through the doorway on the downslope side. The Dutch door was gone, as were the vines that had held it closed when she was here with Natalie. She did not envy the men picking their way through the smoldering downed timbers. Before she was warned away, she spotted the axle, which was nearly burned through. It was just about all that remained of the big water wheel. One of the inspectors emerged to confer with the chief, who immediately made a phone call. The inspector headed back into the burned-out building. Leni made her way over to the fire chief’s car, which served as his command post. “What was that all about?” she asked him. “It’s early days,” he replied. “There’s nothing to confirm.” Leni raised her eyebrows in question, but the chief said no more. He turned away as Doug approached. Despite the chief’s brushoff, intuition told her there was something to confirm. She needed to know what. She slipped behind the vehicle, trying her best to be inconspicuous. She did not want to be sent out of earshot. “It appears the fire was set,” the chief said. “There are traces of accelerant. It looks like it was splashed pretty good around the basement.” “Accelerant?” Doug asked. “Arson?” “It smells like gasoline,” the fire chief said. “We’ll know more tomorrow after it cools down.” He squinted at the sky, no longer filled with smoke. “It’s clouding over. It would help if it didn’t rain tonight.” Convinced that the fire was out, the tired volunteers shed their protective clothing, tossed their equipment into their pickup trucks, and left. The equally tired professional fire crew stowed their gear on the town fire trucks and pulled out right behind them. Doug gave Leni a lift back to her car on the highway. … The next morning, her phone bleated out Charlene’s ringtone. “What’s up, Charlene? I’m in the middle of something.” “A body has been found at the mill.” It can’t be, Leni told herself, but she had a sinking feeling.