exactly how long it took Cullen to do that, but she was guessing no more than a fistful of seconds. How did a fire get that hot that fast? Some kind of accelerant, obviously, but she didn’t know much about the makeup of firebombs.
Lily got pictures of the window frame, then of the floor. The burn pattern was clear even to her ignorant eyes—roughly circular, originating five to nine feet this side of the desk that had shielded Cullen and Fagin. She got some pics of that from the window, then headed for the door. She’d enter the library from its undamaged rear. Even if Scott hadn’t found any Baggies yet, she could start making sketches and notes, but—
Her phone chimed. After a quick glance at the number, she answered it. “Special Agent Yu here.”
“This is former CSO Rod Uddley,” a hearty male voice announced. “Retired now, but I’ve worked more bombings than anyone in the country, living or dead. The Bureau likes me so much they let me teach the babies now and then, and now and then they pay me big bucks to consult. I understand you want a consult.”
“I do. Did Ida brief you on my situation?”
Captain Uddley said she had indeed and congratulated Lily on having the good sense to ask for help.
“I need help establishing priorities. I may only have an hour to work the scene. I may have all afternoon and part of the evening. It depends on how long it takes to get the elemental to agree to let us out. I need to know what to do in that first hour.”
He asked a few questions. Lily paused just inside the front door to answer, sent him the pictures she’d already taken, and then told him what Cullen had reported about the smell of the explosion. “I’ve got another lupus standing by in case his nose might be of use.”
“Ah! Yes, that might help. That might indeed help. They’re supposed to have a very keen sense of smell.”
“It’s strongest when they’re in wolf form, so I’ll ask Scott to Change.”
“Excellent. First I need to look over those pictures you sent me. Hold on a moment.”
Scott came out of the back of the house, carrying a plastic grocery sack. “Baggies, trash bags, Sharpie, masking tape, paper towels.” He held it out. “I couldn’t find paper bags or a ruler.”
“Thanks.” She took the sack and reported to the hearty Uddley on what kind of crime scene equipment she had. “I’ve got my spiral, so I can take notes, make some sketches. I don’t have anything to measure with, but I can estimate shorter distances pretty well. My spread hand is eight inches from thumb to little finger, so . . . just a sec.” Scott still stood there, waiting. “Yes?”
“Is it okay if I scrounge for sandwich fixings or something? For all of us, I mean, but especially Cullen. Healing burns a lot of calories.”
And lupi shouldn’t get too hungry. “Sure, go ahead. I won’t need you right away, but eat quick, just in case.”
He headed for the back of the house. Lily did, too, stopping at the doorway into the library. “We’re going to do this bass-ackwards,” Uddley boomed cheerfully in her ear. “Could all blow up in our faces, but we’ll go for it anyway.”
“I’m not following you.”
“When you work a scene, you never start with a theory and look for evidence to support it—but that’s what we’re going to do. It gives us a clear set of priorities, you see, in case you run out of time. Now, we know we’ve got an incendiary device, not a true bomb—not much blast, plenty of burn. According to your witness, there were two projectiles.”
“According to one of them, yes. The other—Dr. Fagin—I haven’t interviewed him yet. His injuries needed attention.”
“Two projectiles fits my theory. They wanted to break the window first so they could get their incendiary device well into the room before it broke and started burning everything. The witness you interviewed is a lupus, yes?”
She agreed that he was.
“Excellent. It’s his description of the smells that all but clinches it. Good man. Observant. I’m betting someone tossed an SIP.”
“Okaaay.”
A quick, booming laugh. “Jargon’s a bitch. Sorry. SIP stands for self-igniting phosphorus. The original SIPs were made during World War II by the British, but were never used in combat. Too dangerous to the user. They’re a take on the good old Molotov cocktail, though more sophisticated chemically. Easy to make. You put