The fire unit arrived, lights flashing and siren wailing. The sight and sound bored into Cam’s aching head like a dental drill. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and watched with alarm as the four-wheel drive mounted the curb and charged across the lush lawn, churning up turf like a deranged lawnmower until it came to a halt several metres from where Cam was standing.
The cavalry had arrived.
Cliff turned off the noise. He and Angelo jumped from the vehicle before Cam could close the distance between them.
‘Wait on a minute, guys,’ Cam said, indicating for them to slow down. ‘No need to go charging off like a bull at a gate.’
Cliff stopped and turned. ‘I don’t need some city cop telling me how to do my job.’ The spotlight shone at an angle across his face, casting one side in shadow.
Cam shrugged. ‘You’re the boss.’
Cliff leaned into the fire vehicle and snatched his yellow helmet from the dash. He was wearing his heavy fireman’s boots; his Uggs lay on the floor on the passenger side next to a water bottle and a six-pack of beer.
‘Be prepared,’ Cam said, not hiding his sarcasm. Angelo turned away and smiled.
Cam tried to tell Cliff what had happened, trotting to keep up with the big man’s giant steps. But as they approached the smouldering ruins, he was forced to hold back as renewed contact with the poisonous fumes irritated his already sensitive lungs. As he doubled over into a fit of coughing he felt a hand on his shoulder.
‘Sergeant Fraser, are you OK?’ Angelo asked.
‘Yes, I’m fine now.’ He felt as if he’d just coughed up a lung. ‘I think that’s the last of it.’
He straightened, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then pointed to the bear-like figure at the ruins. ‘I was trying to tell Cliff to be careful. There could still be explosive substances in there. Even a small flame could set them off.’ He shrugged, letting out a painful breath. ‘Well, he’s supposed to be a fireman. I guess he knows what he’s doing.’
‘He gets excited sometimes. When he’s wired up like this he thinks he can take on the world. It’s just about impossible to tell him anything.’ The boy’s hand unconsciously moved to his face where his fingers probed his bruised eye.
‘We’d better go and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid then,’ Cam said.
They picked their way over the pieces of smouldering chipboard, floorboards, glass and mangled metal. The floor of the prefab was still more or less intact except for the area to the far left where the chemicals had been stored and where the explosion had originated. Here, it was no more than a jagged crater with branches of twisted steel joists rising from its epicentre. Pieces of floorboards, still shimmering orange with the heat, radiated from the hole like the glowing petals of a flower.
Cam didn’t venture closer, though Cliff and Angelo, in their protective gear, were bolder. They kicked at the debris, assessing the danger: carefully, Cam hoped. The remaining flames seemed benign enough, but it wouldn’t take much of a breeze for them to rekindle and threaten the other school buildings.
Cam walked back to the fire unit with Cliff, who radioed base to say no backup was required. The big man’s initial excitement had eased now he realised it was only a mop-up job. The scowl on his face suggested all he wanted to do now was get the job done and go home to bed.
Overcome with a sudden weariness himself, Cam shuffled over to a nearby tree and sank to the ground. The moon was full, the stars no more than pale pinpricks. He leaned back against the tree, feeling the damp of a light evening dew seep through the seat of his jeans. The gentle fingers of a breeze ruffled his hair and provided a welcome cool to his face, helping him fight the desire to close his eyes. He followed the actions of the fire team as they carried out the same well-practised ritual they’d performed at Sunday’s bushfire.
As Cliff unwound the hose, he yelled to Angelo to turn the pump on. His orange overalls were unbuttoned to the waist and his muscles rippled under the artificial light. His yellow helmet glowed, the visor reflecting a star of light under which his black beard bristled. He adjusted the nozzle of the hose and yelled again at Angelo, who was still looking at the ruins. He made no move towards the pump, but shouted something back at Cliff.
Cliff threw the hose down and stalked towards his spiky-haired apprentice. Cam hauled himself to his feet and followed. The dynamics of the fire team had become interesting.
He watched the big man approach Angelo.
‘Are you deaf or something? What the hell is your problem, boy? You trying to be a smart-arse again?’ Cliff bawled.
‘Cliff, it’s different this time, this is really dangerous,’ Angelo said.
Angelo spotted Cam walking up behind his boss. Their eyes briefly met. When he turned back to Cliff his voice was less hesitant.
‘There’s all sorts of dangerous stuff in that mess,’ Angelo said. ‘Electrical cables, too. We’ve got to turn the mains off before we spray or we’ll be fried.’
Cliff ripped off his helmet, threw it to the ground and stepped closer. Cam moved to stand by the young man’s side.
‘I guess you don’t get too many residential fires way out here. Probably never even had one. It’s an easy enough thing to forget,’ Cam said.
‘I didn’t forget,’ Cliff spoke through gritted teeth, not taking his eyes off Angelo.
‘I see, this was just a test, eh? Putting the apprentice through his paces. Good thinking,’ Cam said.
Cliff switched his glare to Cam for a moment, then back to Angelo. Cam could see the big man struggling to save face. ‘Where are the fucking mains then, smart-arse?’ Cliff bawled.
‘I don’t know, Cliff. You know the school better than I do,’ Angelo said.
‘Try the front porch.’ Cam tilted his head to the formal entrance, flashing Cliff a smile straight from The Toby Bell School Of Charm.
Cliff scowled and headed towards the school building.
The smile immediately left Cam’s face. ‘Shit,’ he said out of the side of his mouth. ‘Is he always like this?’
Angelo gave a cautious smile. ‘No, not always. He’s been losing it a bit lately, but. Pressures of work, you know?’
‘What was that about you getting into trouble before?’
Angelo watched Cliff stomp up the school’s front steps and shrugged.
‘Did he get angry at you at Sunday’s bushfire too?’
‘Yeah. Off his chops at me.’
‘Why?’
Cliff yelled at Angelo to turn on the pump. Cam followed Angelo back to the fire unit and Angelo flicked the switch, lurching the pump to life. When he aimed the spray at the ruins they were enveloped in foul-smelling steam.
Cam gagged down another coughing fit.
Angelo shouted above the noise. ‘That fire in the bush wasn’t too fierce.’ The water from the hose hissed like a nest of snakes as it hit the hot metal. ‘And it only covered a small area, so we thought we could handle it. Cliff said not to use the hose on one part; he said it would be more efficient to make a firebreak and let the flames burn out on their own. We’d also save water that way. The fire truck only carries six hundred litres. We cleared a good size break, then Cliff went down the line to check something. The wind came up and the flames grew higher, so I grabbed the hose and put them out. He went off his rocker at me.’
‘And he hit you then?’
Angelo said nothing; his expression said it all.
‘It sounds like you did the right thing. You used your initiative.’ Cam lowered his voice when the hulking figure of Cliff reappeared. There was no doubt in his mind that he was looking at a man quite capable of murder. ‘Tomorrow at lunchtime come to the station. We’ll drive out to the school grounds and you can show me where that patch of flames was.’
The young man made no sign of acknowledgment. Cliff yanked the hose from his hands and continued the spraying. Cam wondered if he’d show up.
His mind switched from the Bell murder back to the bombed photo lab. It was easy enough to guess what had happened: a Molotov cocktail through the window, then the exploding chemicals. But why? Who?
Firemen were often the arson squad’s worst nightmare. A crime involving fire was hard enough to investigate. A diligent fireman put the icing on the cake, destroying what little evidence there was left with water, foam, heavy boots and damaging equipment. By the time the volunteer bushfire brigade had finished, there’d be little evidence left here to tell him anything. Cam let out a breath and scrubbed at his face.
Then his mobile rang. It was Leanne.