Fireproof

CHAPTER 41

Tully had Abe Nadira print a photo of the last frame before the man with the red backpack dropped out of sight. He also got a print of the man’s face. The zoom had reduced his features to shadowed pixels. A short beard and shaggy hair were the only decipherable characteristics. Eyes, mouth, and nose were blurs of gray and black.

Several fire investigators and crime scene technicians, along with their equipment, were still processing the rubble. Yellow police tape had been stretched around a wide perimeter to cordon off the area, but less than forty-eight hours later a couple of the homeless already had crawled under the barrier, taking up residence in the shelter of new Dumpsters and equipment that had been brought in.

It wasn’t the alley or the Dumpster that drew Tully back to the scene. He found and planted himself in the same spot where Samantha Ramirez had been when she shot the footage of the photo he had in his hand. Broken glass glittered on the ground. Most of the debris—the big pieces—had been raked and sifted. Small piles littered the cordoned-off sidewalk where investigators used the concrete as a flat, hard place to sort.

Tully held up the eight-by-ten photo Nadira had given him. He tried to match the photo’s background to what remained. Ramirez had shot this footage before the second blast, so the scene in the photo looked different from what surrounded him now.

He lined up street signs and corners of existing buildings until he was certain he had the correct angle. Then he paced out measured steps toward the area where the man was last seen.

Tully kept the photo in front of him while he walked slowly, step by step, examining the surroundings. He glanced at the grass, then the curb and street, focusing only on what was directly in his path.

After a few minutes he thought he had gone too far and started to backtrack. He stopped to study the photo. He pushed up the bridge of his glasses. In the photo, right behind the man’s right shoulder, was a light post with a flyer taped to it. Tully couldn’t make out the details on the flyer but he could see that someone had used thick swatches of duct tape to attach it to the post.

He looked around him and saw what had to be the same post. The flyer and tape were still attached but both had been pelted with debris. He stepped onto the curb and positioned himself in the exact spot where he believed the man had been standing. He checked over his shoulder to make sure the street sign was where it was in the photo. Then Tully took a deep breath.

Okay, where the hell did you go, mister?

He began a slow circle, taking in everything from door wells to fire escapes on the buildings. In the photo there were no vehicles close by for the man to duck under or hide behind. Tully made a full circle before he saw it.

Three feet to his left, steam puffed out from a manhole cover.