Page 105 of Savage Justice
“No. But I want him to stop. He has to stop.”
“I’ll see to it.”
It’s just turned four in the morning. I’m awakened by the trilling of my phone. I let out a muffled curse.
“Who could that be at this time?” I stretch out my arm to fumble for the device and realise the ring tone doesn’t sound quite right. “It’s not a call. It’s my alarm.”
The brand-new state-of-the-art security system which Nico had installed at my house had gone live earlier today. It sends an alert to my phone, and his. Is this some sort of a test? I try to remember what he told me about monitoring it.
Nico is quicker off the mark than I am. He sits up and silences his alarm, then brings up the images of the property.
“Holy shit!”
“What? What’s happened?”
“Your place is on fire.”
“No! It can’t be!” I hit various keys until the system presents me with what I’m looking for. And shock turns to dismay. “It’s completely alight. It’ll be gutted. Oh God…” There are flames already dancing through the roof, and every window is illuminated with a bright-orange glow. The brickwork is silhouetted against the eerie brilliance of the fire raging within.
“I need to call the fire service…” I fumble with my phone. “Maybe they can—”
“They’re on their way,” Nico tells me. “The alarm alerts them immediately. See, the first appliance is just pulling up.”
We watch as the firefighters do their thing, swarming around my house in their brightly coloured protective gear, eventually fighting their way inside to quell the blaze from within.
“What about the neighbours’ houses?” I whisper. “Is anyone hurt? I need to go over there, and—” I’m babbling nonsense. We’d need to rouse a pilot, and even then, we’re a couple of hours away from Glasgow. There’s nothing I can do to help.
“We’ll both fly over there, but it looks like they’ve got it under control.” Nico is already half-dressed.
I jump out of bed and throw on the closest things I can find to wear. Yesterday’s jeans and an oversized sweater of his. “Thank God it happened before we moved back in. If we’d been in there, sleeping…”
“You weren’t,” he growls. “I’ll phone Magda.”
There’s a playing field at the end of my old street, and that’s where Magda sets us down. I sprint towards the milling throng of neighbours in their dressing gowns, firefighters, and police.
“Sorry, miss. This is a crime scene. You can’t come any further.”
The young police officer seems harried, but he stands his ground, refusing to let me get within twenty metres of my old home.
“But it’s my house,” I protest. “I need to speak to whoever’s in charge.”
He peers suspiciously at me. “Your place?” he repeats. “Are you sure?”
“Of course she’s sure,” Nico snaps.
“Wait there, please.” The officer scuttles off in search of some higher authority.
I grab Nico’s arm. “He said ‘crime scene’. I heard him. What does that mean?”
“We’ll soon know.” He tips his chin at someone behind me. “Looks like the top brass is here.”
I spin around again to be greeted by a middle-aged man in protective gear but wearing a white helmet rather than the yellow ones that the rest of the firefighters have.
“The officer tells me that you’re the owner these premises, miss.”
“Yes. That’s right. I was… I was away. I have an alarm system installed and I came as soon as I could.”
“You were away? So, there are no persons present in the house?”