Part 14 (2/2)
”That's absolutely horrible,” Wallace said.
”Yes, it is. I was wondering what you could tell me about the cremation process...perhaps even show me the process in action.”
”Well, it would take some paperwork for me to show you the process up close and personal,” Wallace said. ”But I can answer any questions you have.”
He remained in the chair opposite her, a non-verbal way of letting her know that she would not be getting any further inside the building than the waiting room. And as far as Avery was concerned, that was fine with her. She was starting to feel almost as unsettled as Wallace looked.
”Well, I'd like to know if it would be at all possible for someone to burn a body quite efficiently somewhere other than a crematorium. I'm talking all the way down to nothing but ash and bone.”
”Well,” Wallace said, doing his best to act as if the news she had shared with him had not taken him off guard, ”with cremations, of course, everything is reduced to ash. Bones and teeth are ground down to nothing more than powder. So if there is bone remaining in these remains, the killer is not achieving the same temperatures we are. The bones would at least get weaker and slightly broken down before we crush them. If he is not doing that or does not even have the option, I'd guess he is almost certainly not burning them for as long as a typical cremation, or at the same temperatures.”
”But hypothetically, could it be done?”
Wallace thought about it for a moment before answering: ”Yes, I suppose so. You'd need some sort of designated room, though. It would have to be built quite well and extremely fire resistant. And even then...it would almost have to be some sort of industrial building. If it wasn't, there's no way the structure would last very long.”
”And how about chemicals?” Avery asked. ”Are there any chemicals involved in the cremation process? We've caught a faint smell from the ash but nothing solid is coming up when we test it.”
”No chemicals, just natural gases. Some crematoriums use a special kind of oil, but we don't do that here.”
”But the process is basically the same at all crematoriums?”
”Yes, in America. Of course when you get overseas and into Eastern religions, there are a variety of practices.”
”Well, I'd think we're looking for someone who has a strong interest in the process of burning things or starting fires-not an arsonist exactly, but someone who respects fire and maybe even is using it symbolically. So please forgive me for asking, but I was wondering if there was anyone in the crematorium's past that might have been a cause for concern. Anyone that was maybe fired or corrected for unusual behavior?”
”Fortunately, no,” Wallace said. ”Not here. But three years ago, there was a very troubling incident at one of the other crematoriums.”
Now it was Avery's turn to sit up straight and take notice. Here we go...
”What sort of incident?” Avery asked.
Wallace s.h.i.+fted uncomfortably in his seat and eyed Avery uneasily. ”I don't know that it would be proper for me to tell someone else's business,” Wallace said.
”I respect that, but time is of the essence,” Avery said. ”Anything you can tell me will speed up the process while we seek out the employees of the other crematorium.” What she left out was the fact that someone working for that crematorium might downplay the extremity of the event to save face.
Clearly uncomfortable, Wallace nodded. ”There was a man working at the Peaceful Hills Crematorium that was not only released, but spent some time in a psych ward from what I understand. It started out when he was found sleeping on the graves of people that his parlor buried. That was more than enough reason for them to fire him-and they did. But after the fact, it was also discovered that he was secretly making videos of the cremations on his iPhone. Later, when the police looked through his computer, they found videos of war crimes where people were being burned. Close-up, gruesome stuff.”
”Do you know the man's name?”
Wallace was still clearly not comfortable with sharing the information, but when he leaned forward in a secretive way, Avery knew that he was going to tell what he knew.
”Phillip Bailey. He worked for them for nearly four years before anyone caught on to his issues.”
”And is he still being treated? Is he at a home of some kind?”
”No. He's living in town. And the only way I know this for sure is because he applied for a position here several months ago. I reported it to the authorities and I think he was basically given a little slap on the wrist and nothing more.”
”He applied here?” Avery asked. ”So you'd have his address on file?”
”I could have HR pull it, yes.”
”It would be a huge help.”
Wallace sighed and got to his feet. ”One moment,” he said, exiting back through the same door he had entered through.
When he was gone, Avery took out her phone. Before placing her call, she checked the time and saw that it had somehow come to be 3:10. It had been one of those days where she had somehow forgotten to grab lunch and was running on pure adrenaline (and a little bit of anger from having been technically removed from the case).
She then pulled up Ramirez's name and pressed CALL. She understood that there was some sort of irony to her calling him for help given the way she had been treating him over the last day or so-but they had both learned to put work ahead of their relations.h.i.+p and she figured this was no different.
As if to confirm this, he answered on the second ring. ”Hey, Avery. Hard at work?”
”You know me too well.”
”You're probably further ahead of the curve than I am right now. I'm getting nothing.”
”Well, let me give you a little something then,” she said. ”I've been doing some digging and I'm about to get the contact information for what looks like a promising lead. Do you think you can meet up with me without O'Malley finding out?”
”Probably,” Ramirez said. ”I'm behind a desk right now. I'm pretty sure he'd like to see me moving around instead of just sitting here. And our buddy Agent Duggan skipped out about an hour ago, heading back to his office in Chelsea.”
”Has O'Malley cooled down at all yet?” Avery asked.
”A little. Just stressed. This latest body is really getting to him. If the media had has seen the state of it...”
”Yeah, I know. Look, can you meet me in an hour?”
”Just tell me where.”
She did, giving him a rendezvous point a few blocks away. When they ended the call, things felt almost the way they had before they had slept together three nights ago. She wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing, though. It felt like a good thing but there was also something a little sad about it.
Seconds later, Wallace walked back out. He held out a piece of paper to her and Avery saw that it was a photocopy of Phillip Bailey's application.
”I do hope you can catch and stop whoever is doing this. But if it comes down to it and it is Phillip Bailey, I'd much rather you leave my name out of it.”
”Of course,” Avery said. ”And thank you for your help.”
Wallace gave her a quick handshake and then once again returned through the door and out of the waiting area. Avery checked the application for an address and found that it would be about a twenty-minute drive from where she currently was. She toyed with the idea of calling Ramirez again and simply giving him the address to meet her there.
But if she was flying under the radar, trying to stay out of O'Malley's way, she needed to play it safe. She pocketed the application and headed back out to her car. She again found herself thinking of fire, of how it was the perfect way to get rid of something-of anything, really. And, beyond that, she thought of the sort of person that would be depraved enough to use it as a way to end a human life and was rather glad she had decided to call Ramirez.
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