CHAPTER SIXTEEN
May saw the plume of smoke still wafting into the air before she even turned onto the suburban road in Greenfields where the explosion had happened. Thick, black smoke that made her stomach churn.
Owen, sitting next to her, let out a defeated sigh.
"I can't believe this," he muttered.
May parked behind a police car that had just pulled up. Its siren was still blaring, and then cut off abruptly as the officers climbed out. Two fire trucks were already on the scene, but it appeared the earlier fire was under control because the crews were now standing down. However, May saw that the ambulance crew was still working inside, with a stretcher being wheeled to what had once been the front door of a residential home, but was now a blackened and gaping hole.
May climbed out. The fresh, morning air was tainted with smoke.
The house looked to have been a small, ordinary, one-story building with a small and neat yard. Neighbors from both sides of this residential suburb were already crowding the scene, their faces shocked.
Two police officers were fastening crime scene tape to keep them back. The crackle of walkie talkies and the nervous chatter of the nearby residents resounded in the air.
"Whose house is this?" May asked, fearing the worst.
Her question was answered by Kerry, speaking from behind her.
"The victim is a Mrs. Philippa Jacobs. A retiree. Unfortunately, she was inside her home at the time of the blast, and they are retrieving her remains now."
Kerry looked calm and businesslike. She was wearing protective foot covers and gloves. "The bomb squad is already inside, analyzing the explosives used."
"How did this happen? Was her home broken into, or how did the killer access it?" May asked.
Kerry shrugged. “I’m not sure about that yet,” she said.
But from nearby, one of the neighbors, who had overheard, cleared his throat.
"Excuse me, ma'am?"
"Yes?" May said, turning to him. He was a tall, gray-haired man with an expression of worry and fear in his pale blue eyes.
"I might be able to help you with that information. Mrs. Jacobs always used to go fishing in the afternoons. And when she arrived home, at about seven p.m., she would put her car in the garage. That’s what she did every evening. But yesterday, her car was not in the garage overnight, but parked outside the front door on the grass."
"Is that so?" May asked.
"We have a neighborhood watch. They noticed it late last night, and again early this morning, and told us. We decided to see if she was alright, as she's an extremely neat person and this was very out of character. So first thing this morning, the control room notified her nephew, who lives a few streets away. He called her, and almost instantly, I believe, there was a massive bang, and her house blew up."
May's eyes widened. Beside her, she heard Kerry draw a shocked breath.
This sounded like exactly the same M.O. The killer had wired the bomb to explode when an incoming call arrived, and that was what had activated the bomb. And it was a family member who had detonated the blast, just the same as with the roadhouse manager, and with the lawyer. This made the whole scenario even more tragic.
May guessed that Mrs. Jacobs would already have been unconscious, or perhaps even dead, at the time. Surely the killer would not have risked her being able to shout for help in this neighborhood, with a neighborhood watch that patrolled and kept an eye out?
"That's very helpful," May said. "I appreciate the background."
She turned to Kerry. "We really need to find out more about these bombs," she emphasized. "How is he doing this?"
Kerry nodded. "Absolutely. We do. The bomb squad is on the scene already, as I said. Once they are done, they will analyze all the remaining evidence."
May saw the paramedics wheeling out a stretcher containing a body bag. So the remains of poor Mrs. Jacobs had now been removed from the scene. May bowed her head as the stretcher was wheeled past.
Then, May went over to the cardboard box and put on foot covers and gloves. She wanted to take a closer look at the scene without risking that she might erase any important evidence. And she wanted to speak to the bomb squad. Surely they must have something by now, some information?
Following behind her, Owen did the same.
May paced nervously into the shell of the building, which still reeked of smoke. She immediately saw that the bomb must have been set up inside the front of the house, which had then been blown out to the sides.