In the Shadow: Day 1

Word Count: 6,023

Summary of Events:

Parker and a fellow constable were summoned to the home of Old Mrs. Fowler, a senile woman in her late 80s or early 90s who thought someone was stealing her chickens; it was only a fox, but Parker and his fellow constable repaired her henhouse before heading back to Macleod; on the way, they spied thick black smoke that turned out to be a house on fire, so they helped organise the crowd gathered to put out the blaze . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

“Constables,” a soot-stained man called urgently. “Come here!”

Parker — who had long-dismounted and been manning the pump — hurried over, Constable Gillespie came over from a different direction and they picked their way through the ruins of the mostly-burned home, following the man to a room.

Both of them startled to see charred bones lying on the floor; and not just any bones, but human bones.

“No one is allowed to leave the premises until we’ve spoken to them,” Constable Gillespie ordered. “And no one is allowed in the house, go tell them.”

The man took off hastily and Parker glanced at Constable Gillespie before looking down at the charred bodies again.

All four femur bones were half-consumed and no bones beneath those remained, while all the bones above were significantly blackened and, with the muscle, tendon, sinew, and such burned away, the bones were all loose, making the forms of two humans, but with all of the ribs collapsed into piles of U-shaped bones, instead of sitting upright and forming their usual cage.

Breastbones, no longer supported, lay against the neat line of spinal bones, the femurs lay on the ground near to the joints in which they’d formerly nestled, clavicles had collapsed against scapulas, mandibles had fallen loose and sat around the bones of the neck while the main parts of the skulls were tipped to the side, unable to rest on the rounded backs.

Phalanges of the hands, as well as the wrist bones, lay in little heaps, suggesting the hands hadn’t been laying flat when they’d burned, but had been crumpled. The bones of the forearms lay with a wider gap between them than they usually had.

“Looks like a man and a woman,” Constable Gillespie observed.

“Based on the hips anyways,” Parker agreed, observing that one pelvis was wider and had a larger opening than the other.

“Which is about all we have to go off of,” Constable Gillespie said.

Parker nodded. Every stitch of clothing and every fibre of muscle was burned away, no hair, no eyes, no organs, all they had was bones to go off of, hopefully the doctor would be able to determine identities based on the bones somehow.

“Do you want to guard them or go ask questions?” Constable Gillespie asked.

“Guard them,” Parker replied.

Nodding, Constable Gillespie turned and headed back out of the ruins. Parker lifted his gaze from the bodies and looked around what remained of the room. It didn’t seem like it would be the room the fire would’ve started in, as fires usually started in fireplaces, and the fireplace was in the room to the east of this one.

Since it was a house and not a cabin there was no doubt that the building had windows — which were getting easier and easier to come by even in somewhat remote places like this — in every room.

So these two people had to have been somehow incapacitated by the fire, otherwise they would’ve escaped.