First message
The apartment door was steel. It was still blackened.
Burn marks climbed across the frame and up the wall. Simon stepped back, looked at the damage, then at the neighbor’s door beside it. Untouched.
Not random. Not a drunk. Not a kid with a lighter.
Someone had stood here calmly, poured gasoline over her door and lit it.
Simon knocked once.
The door opened.
“Detective Simon Burns. Police.”
He held up his badge, then walked into the apartment almost through her, forcing her to step aside. The place smelled faintly of smoke.
He looked around once, then sat down on the couch like he already owned the room. Notebook out. Pen.
“First, make me a coffee. Black. One spoon of sugar.”
He glanced up at her.
“Then start from the beginning.”
The pen clicked.
“Full name for the report.”