Chapter 7

 

The next fire, five days later, consumed a four story brick warehouse overlooking the Ohio River. The blaze in the block square building was massive. Equipment and personnel were dispatched from fire stations throughout Cincinnati, and several volunteer fire companies from across the river in Kentucky, joined in the night-long battle. A lone fireboat pumped water onto the south side of the burning building. As a precaution, those living within half a dozen blocks of the fire were evacuated and offered temporary shelter at a National Guard Armory. Virtually all of the local radio, television, and print media had reporters at the scene. It would be their lead story the following day.

Scarlet fingers of flame groped skyward through blown-out windows and what remained of the roof, as the fire fed rapaciously on the thousands of mattresses, chairs and sofas stored on the first two floors. Both of the upper floors were virtually empty. Ten 55 gallon steel drums of highly volatile chemicals were stored illegally in the building’s basement, and created pyrotechnics to rival any Fourth of July celebration. When the first of them blew, four firemen and the water cannon operator onboard the fireboat were injured by flying debris. A pumper, drawing water from the Ohio River to fight the fire, was destroyed when a section of one of the brick walls exploded onto it. The blaze’s intense heat softened and distorted vinyl siding on houses blocks from the scene.

From his office window Bart saw the soft red glow illuminating the western sky, so he wasn’t surprised by Tallman’s call.

“Here we go again, Bart. This one’s absolutely huge. It’s the Edgerton Warehouse, on the river, a few miles from your office. The building is totally involved in fire, and –.” Whatever Tallman said next was drowned out by the explosion of the second chemical drum. Bart stood at his window, awed as the soft glow he had been observing instantly turned crimson, and flaming debris was catapulted several hundred feet into the darkening twilight sky.“Good God, Harry, what was that?”

“Can’t talk. Part of the building just exploded and I may have men in that area. Get down here as quickly as you can.” The line went dead.

Barricades had been erected six blocks to the north, east and west of the fire scene. The Ohio River formed a natural barrier to the south. Several hundred curious people had lined up along the Kentucky shore to watch the spectacular blaze. A pair of police launches patrolled the river, keeping boaters out of harm’s way. Beyond the barricades, Bart walked for fifteen minutes, dodging emergency vehicles, avoiding the spider web of hose lines and being stopped several times by the fire police. Halfway to the fire, the air was rife with powerful, caustic odors that inflamed the membranes in his nose and throat, and left a foul, greasy taste in his mouth. The closer he got the more profusely his eyes watered. When he arrived at the command bus and had his first unobstructed view of the blaze, he was startled by its size. Bright red and orange flames, reaching as high as a ten story building, were capped with a curtain of dense black smoke that climbed several thousand feet into the still air. One of the approaches to Cincinnati International Airport had been rerouted by Air Traffic Control because of the greatly diminished visibility and unstable air currents created by the conflagration. This was the worst, and at the same time, the most awe inspiring of the many fires Bart had witnessed. If a fire could be called majestic, this one unquestionably could.

A minute after Bart entered the command bus the third and fourth drums exploded in rapid succession. Debris was propelled skyward with such force, he had to press his chin against the window and crane his head as far back as it would go to see the top of its trajectory. Firefighters dove for whatever cover they could find. Emergency vehicles were everywhere, and most scurried under them. Nearly all the force of the blast had been directed skyward through the mostly missing roof, so the bulk of the debris traveled vertically. The few seconds it took for the rubble to reach its apex before showering down, provided enough time for the firefighters to reach cover. Bricks and other building materials pelted the roof of the bus, shaking it violently and shattering most of the windows on the side facing the fire. Bart ducked reflexively and put his hands over his head to protect himself, but the bus’s reinforced steel roof withstood the violent aerial bombardment. A police cruiser, parked a hundred feet from the bus, was destroyed by the barrage.

The Fire Chief dashed onto the bus and yelled to his radio operator, “I don’t know what the hell is causing the goddamn fireworks or how much more of it there is. Inform all units they are not to get within hundred yards of the building, and if any equipment’s closer, just leave it where it is. No one is going to die to save a piece of real estate or machinery. And have them take the fireboat out to mid-river. The water cannon may still be able to reach, but if it can’t, it can’t. And I need the State Police helicopter on stand-by in case anyone needs transport to the hospital before this is over.”

As the Chief turned to leave, Tallman arrived.

”Harry, I need for your men to stay way the hell back. This one’s a widow-maker and there’s no sense them being in harm’s way. There’s nothing they can do until we beat this monster down.”

‘Will do, Jake, thanks.” Tallman sat down in the driver’s seat, facing the shattered windshield, and put out a radio call to his men to stay well clear of the building. It wasn’t until he had clipped his radio back onto his belt and turned toward the rear of the bus that he noticed Bart.

“This one’s a real bear, buddy. Thankfully no one was inside the building when it started. The only one nearby was the watchman, and he was outside having a smoke. We had some firemen injured in the blast, but it looks like they’ll be all right. I guess what they say is true, anyone you walk away from is a good one.”

“Looks like we’ve got another arson here.”

“No question about it. It appears we have multiple ignition points and a fire that spread lightning fast. My guess would be a great deal of accelerant was used. The fire tore across the first and second floors, where large quantities of flammable material were stored. I’m told both upper floors are practically empty.”

“What about the sprinkler system?”

This building was built in the early 1920s. Sprinklers weren’t a requirement back then. When we got laws on the books mandating fire suppression systems, the older buildings were grandfathered because of the prohibitive cost of upgrading them. The only water reaching that fire is what’s coming out of the hose lines being held by the firemen.”

Tallman pointed through the spider web of broken glass at the small army of firefighters manning hoses. “Does your company insure this building?”

“I’m not sure, but I don’t think so. Why, do you think it’s the same arsonist?”

“It’s too early to tell. It’s a different type of building and it may not be owned by Caspian, and your company may not insure it. That’s a lot of negatives, but it doesn’t mean it’s not the same guy. It’s not unusual for serial arsonists to switch targets hoping to throw the police off the scent, or they’ll start by burning a few buildings they have no interest in, to establish a false pattern, before they hit their real target. It could be any or none of those things. We’ll be able to get a better handle on it when the fire is out, and I can get my Cause and Origin Team sorting through the ashes, but it looks like that isn’t going to happen for a while yet. You want to hang around and keep me company?”

Bart nodded. “Absolutely. Got any coffee?”

“Always.” He opened the bottom draw of the console. “Got my own private stash.” He pulled out two Styrofoam cups and a gallon thermos. “Sorry, Bart, I ran out of milk.”

“If it’s going to be a long night, black is better.”

As Bart raised the cup to his lips, two more of the drums exploded simultaneously. He threw his hands up in surprise and emptied the contents of the cup onto his shirt and face.

“You okay, Bart?”

“This is one time I’m really thankful for lukewarm coffee.”

It was late the following morning when the Chief declared the fire extinguished. All ten chemical drums had exploded and most of the building’s outer walls had either collapsed or been blown out. The extreme prolonged heat had distorted the steel I-beams that supported the interior floors and roof until they looked like a collection of crazy straws. The wooden floors were completely consumed. Eight firemen had been hurt, though none with life-threatening injuries, and the damage inflicted by flying debris on fire fighting equipment and vehicles and nearby buildings was estimated at over half a million dollars.