Chapter Nine in “Decades with the Squad” by my late father, William Palmer Jervey, Jr.

The home was a small frame house which was rapidly consumed by the flames. Indeed, so rapid and complete was the destruction that the fire chief became suspicious and called the arson investigator from the State Police. The fact that someone had died in the flames caused particular concern.

When the rescue squad arrived, the ruins had cooled down enough to be entered, and we went into the remnants of the bedroom with the arson investigator. Upon the heap of charred rubble that had been the bed lay the victim. I will not attempt a vivid description as it would only be sickening, and you could not believe it until you saw it anyway. What nearly did it for me was when the investigator picked up what appeared to have been a hand and sniffed it!

I suppose the look on my face made him offer this much of an explanation: “Checking for the presence of an accelerant.” To complete his on-site investigation, we had to pick up the victim and hold it at different angles for the photographer. Somewhere in the depths of police files are pictures of my rubber gloved hands and those of my companion holding our pitiful burden.

The cause of death was not determined. Was it murder? Was it arson? We will never know, as the answers died with the house and the victim.