Ashes to Ashes

by Campbell, Jamie

  The coroner might have received one, even if just to back up the cause of death. But they probably passed on their report to the police station for filing. She racked her brain trying to think, but it wasn’t exactly a matter that came up very often in her accounting world.

  Then it hit her, the newspaper! They might have requested a copy for their article, even if just to scan for any potential scandals that may arise.

  The article that had listed the cause of the fire was published in the Avalon Times. Jasmine considered what she knew about the newspaper. It was the only newspaper in Avalon and had the monopoly on any local events.

  Caleb! Of course, he worked for the Avalon Times. He had worked there for about two years now and would definitely know what records they kept and where they were keeping them. She turned on her car and headed off to central Avalon, the hub of the news world, trying to ignore the fact that if she had accepted Caleb’s offer of a coffee three hours ago she might just have saved a trip to the firehouse.

  * * *

  Jasmine had only been to the offices of the Avalon Times twice before. Both times, she had felt like she was in the middle of an ant’s nest. People scurried around everywhere, usually with a notebook in one hand and a coffee mug in the other. Everyone looking like they had a very important mission, no matter what they were doing.

  The receptionist at the front desk barely even looked up from her computer screen to talk to Jasmine. She got the feeling that no matter what exciting events the reporters were covering out back; it did not filter down to Miss Bored.

  “Caleb’s in the office, go on through. Third desk on the right at the back.” She nodded her head towards the office area and went back to her computer screen.

  ‘Enjoy your solitaire,’ Jasmine thought to herself, smiling.

  She quickly found Caleb. He wasn’t at his desk but standing at the printer, cursing it for chewing his paper.

  “Hey, you better be nice to the printer or it will get offended.”

  “Jaz, hi! What are you doing here?” Caleb looked happy and a little confused and started to pat the printer. “Good printer, work for Daddy.”

  “I said be nice, not creepy. I was hoping you’d have a few minutes to talk privately, as long as I’m not interrupting you and the printer there.”

  “Yeah, sure, of course. Is my desk private enough for you?” He gave up on the printer and motioned for Jasmine to follow him.

  The office was quite empty for a change, the big news events must have been either happening around town or only during weekdays. Maybe only the rookie reporters were required to show up on Saturdays.

  They made their way over to Caleb’s desk and he pulled a chair over for Jasmine to sit on. His desk was messy to say the least. There were pens everywhere on top of old newspaper articles and internet printouts. To the left a computer with Microsoft Word open, to the right a few awards that he’d won recently.

  “So, what’s up?”

  Jasmine explained about the fire and her visit to the firehouse. While she had never lied about the exact events that night, she had never really told Caleb the full story on the fire; she’d never gone into detail. She didn’t need people’s sympathy.

  “So, I am trying to find the fire department’s report on what started the blaze. I was wondering if your newspaper would have received a copy and kept it somewhere.”

  “I can’t say for sure if we would have received or kept a copy but there is a mother load of archives in the basement. The report could be there, but it’s a fifty-fifty chance,” Caleb looked apologetic.

  “Is there any way of going through the archives to check?”

  “The old fashioned way, yeah. Box by box, with blood, sweat and tears. I can help you if you want, I don’t have any plans for tonight.”

  “That would be so great, thank you. I really need to find out more and this looks like it’s my best chance.”

  Caleb picked up his keys and the two of them headed downstairs into the archives of the Avalon Times. There were two flights of stairs; the first took them to the underground car park, the next to the basement level.

  The archive room was crammed full of boxes from floor to ceiling. Each one dumped on a rusting iron shelf. None were labelled, each full to the brim with paper. The cobwebs in every corner added to the musty atmosphere. Caleb and Jasmine stood at the entry, trying to absorb exactly what they were seeing.

  “Seriously, this is it? When you said ‘mother load’ I assumed you were exaggerating.” Jasmine could not believe the state of the room.

  Obviously, they didn’t have to retrieve anything from here very often. Or, if they did, they decided it was too hard and lived without whatever they were looking for.

  “I wasn’t kidding. No one actually gets anything from archives, it’s just a dumping ground for those who either can’t bear to throw anything out or are too scared of being sued for something they’d published. The hoarders and bed-wetters you could say.”

  “Is it in some kind of order at least?”

  “Yeah, in the back is the really old stuff, the closer to the door you get, the more recent the records. All part of the dump and run system of filing.”

  “I guess we’ll start at the back then!” Jasmine walked towards the far right corner and opened a box from the second shelf. Inside, the yellowed paper looked like some hand-written scrawl. There wasn’t a date. She flicked through the box some more until she finally found a date – 14th September 1986; too early.

  She moved over to the next row and chose another box. This one seemed to be full of court transcripts. The date was 5th May 1991. Closer, but still too old. Caleb was already on the next row sifting through a box from the third shelf.

  “Hey, what year was the fire?”

  “It happened in 1994,” she replied, already onto the next box.

  “This box has records from 1993, so we’re getting warm now.” He put the box back and moved on to the next one. “Here we go – 1994!”

  They pulled all the 1994 boxes to the floor and started meticulously wading through each one individually. There were a lot of boxes from that year. ‘Must have been a good year for being a reporter,’ Jasmine thought to herself.

  They had been sifting through the papers for at least two hours before they spoke again. Each document had to be looked at before being discounted as useless. There seemed to be a lot of information, or research, about different chemicals and how they were being disposed of in the area. It must have been the scandal of the year.

  “So, how come you’re looking for this information now?” Caleb was the first to break the silence, more out of boredom than interest.

  Jasmine wasn’t sure how much to divulge to him. She trusted him enough, she just wasn’t sure if she wanted to get anyone else involved in her quest for answers. The more people involved, the more people she would have to explain or account to.

  She considered lying or making up an excuse to make it seem like a trivial thing, but Caleb had always been honest with her and ready to listen. She thought she owed him the truth. For some reason, people always reacted like that to Caleb. Jasmine assumed that was what made him a good reporter.

  “Well, it’s a bit of a long story. I got a note posted to me at work. It said the fire wasn’t an accident and maybe something weird had gone on. So it got me thinking that I really don’t know anything about what happened.” She paused to see Caleb’s reaction. He nodded to her and she kept going. “This morning in the library, I was searching for old articles and came across a story that said the official conclusion was an electrical fault.”

  “I take it the article was in the Avalon Times?”

  “Yeah. So I went to the fire department and they said they didn’t keep old reports, especially if there were no suspicious circumstances.” She replaced all the loose paper into the now empty box she had just finished with and moved on to the next one.

  Caleb did the same. “Do you remember much about it? The fire I mean?”
/>
  “Not really; I remember bits and pieces but I couldn’t play it back like a memory movie.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

  The silence fell across the room again; the only sound was the rustle of papers and the occasional thud of a new box being moved to the floor.

  The room was starting to get darker, the one tiny window slowly succumbing to the twilight outside.

  “Hey, I think I found it!” Caleb exclaimed as he grabbed a few loose pieces of paper and sat down next to Jasmine. “It refers to a Savoy Street fire that resulted in the deaths of two adult residents. This must be it.”

  He handed across the few pages. Jasmine scanned the writing as quickly as possible. It was definitely a copy of the chief fire warden’s official report on the blaze. It was on a piece of cheap fax paper with some words having to be re-read to be understood clearly.

  “I can’t believe we actually found it! Caleb you are a legend!” she exclaimed. Jasmine replaced the pages that were lying on the floor from her box and replaced it on the shelf. “Can I take a copy of this?”

  “Of course you can, just don’t tell anyone where you got it from. I know nothing. Come on let’s get out of here. There shouldn’t be anyone left in the office by now. We can photocopy in peace.”

  They took a note of which box the documents came out of and walked back up the two flights of stairs into the main office. Caleb was right – there was no one left at their desks. Most of the lights had already been turned off.

  They headed for the photocopier and took a copy of each page of the report. It covered three pages but most of it was official information; station number, officers that attended, address etc.

  “Now, how about dinner? I think we both deserve a good feed after that marathon,” Caleb declared.

  “I agree, my shout for being so helpful.”

  Chapter 4

  Jasmine woke up the next day feeling as if she had a mission to complete, yet she really didn’t feel like getting out of bed. She hadn’t returned home from dinner with Caleb until late the night before. She didn’t even get a chance to read the fire department’s report before going to bed. The day had seemed long enough. Plus the bottle of wine they had shared went straight to her head.

  The sun was streaming in through the blinds, happily declaring it was another beautiful day in Avalon. She either had to put up with the sun in her eyes, or get out of bed and face the day. She decided on the latter, as there was no way she would be able to get back to sleep.

  She walked through her little apartment and sat down at the table for breakfast. The report, along with her handbag, had been left there as she had walked through last night.

  Breakfast consisted of two Weetbix, so it didn’t take very long before she was finished. She was itching to read the report but didn’t want to get milk or sugar over it. It was difficult enough to read as it was. She put the bowl into the sink and headed back to the table.

  The report was harder to read than she had first thought. It was hand written which made it even worse. ‘Where was the technology in 1994?’ she thought to herself. Most of the official information was too blurry to read and the writing was small to ensure the details fitted into the pre-printed boxes.

  The body of the report was bigger and much easier to read. It covered most of the remaining two pages.

  Jasmine carefully read through the details. Mostly it contained a description of the steps the firemen took in order to ensure there were no safety hazards. There was also an inventory of what items were examined to determine the official cause and the evidence that backed it up. The information Jasmine was looking for was right at the very end.

  ‘This report is prepared in accordance with Section 186 of the Fire Departments Charter of Australia.

  Based on the evidence and the inventory of examined items contained within the fire scene, my official conclusion is that the fire was caused by an electrical fault, due to defective wiring in the ceiling fan contained in bedroom one. The evidence suggests the fan had been switched on at the time of the fire and that caused the initial spark which ignited the surrounding material.

  The victims were located in bedroom one where the fire had reached temperatures of eleven hundred degrees Fahrenheit. It would have taken approximately eleven minutes for the bedroom to succumb to the flames and smother the victims as they slept.’

  Jasmine re-read the report from start to finish ensuring nothing had been missed the first time. It was signed by a Bruce Hamil.

  She stared at the report a while longer, unable to stop her mind from racing. She was certain this was the proof she needed to confirm that the mysterious note she had received two days earlier wasn’t just a prank.

  As much as she had desperately hoped to find everything exactly as she had always been told, it wasn’t to be. The evidence was staring back from the table at her.

  Jasmine recalled that the evening of the fire, Avalon had experienced a severe storm and the wind was blowing from the south. It had been a cold day and an even colder night. Julia Parker had tucked both her daughters tight into bed that night and they had each snuggled in under their blankets. There was no way that only a few hours later John and Julia Parker had been so hot that they turned their ceiling fan on.

  Jasmine remembered her mother had never liked the cold weather that Avalon sometimes experienced. She was just like Jasmine, a frog every time the weather even looked like cooling down. If the temperature dropped below twenty-five degrees, she would put a jacket on. The fan was only ever used in high summer.

  As she sat at the table, Jasmine didn’t know what she should do next. She had more than enough suspicion now that she couldn’t just forget about the letter. Something had to be done to find out the truth about that night. Someone owed her parents the truth; Jasmine owed her parents the truth.

  She gathered all the articles together, along with the fire department’s report, and put them into a pile. She just stared at them for a while before finally deciding she needed a shower – that might make her feel better.

  After a hot shower, she got dressed to go out and went back to the kitchen. She had made up her mind while washing her hair that maybe her grandparents could shed some light on the subject. After all, they were there to pick up the pieces in the aftermath. Overnight they had another family to raise and a son to bury.

  They had to have known about the official findings, they were their next of kin. Surely, it’s official policy that the family be informed of their findings before anyone else, especially the media.

  She headed down to her car and drove in their direction. They only lived about a ten-minute drive from her apartment in Jupiter Street.

  She had moved closer to work about a year ago. Partly for the convenience, mostly to have her own independence. It could be difficult at times living with seventy year olds.

  Gran and Gramps Parker lived on the outskirts of Avalon. They preferred the quietness of the countryside rather than the tight knit streets of downtown. Their house was a large old-fashioned looking weatherboard. Gran loved gardening so it was like being surrounded by their own secret garden.

  Jasmine tried to visit them at least once a month, usually it was more often. She liked being in the house, it was like being home when she was little. Gran and Gramps had done everything possible to raise them as their own parents would have. They attended every school function, took the photos of the prom, and showered them with love.

  Jasmine and Lucy’s parents may not have been able to kiss every boo-boo, give every boyfriend the third degree, or help them with every homework assignment, but Gran and Gramps were. They never faltered in their duties and the girls had never felt like they had just been dumped on their doorstep.

  It was only when Jasmine had grown up and got a life of her own that she truly appreciated exactly what Gran and Gramps had given up for them. They never got to enjoy their retirement until long after their friends had, and at times when the girls’ hurt about t
heir parents had been turned against them, they just took it. They never once reprimanded Lucy and Jasmine for lashing out. They had remained strong for them, and Jasmine couldn’t thank them enough for that strength.

  She pulled into the driveway and hurried towards the front door. She was unsure about how she should broach the subject of her parents’ death. While she remembered how they never cried in front of them as children, she knew they felt the loss just as acutely as she did. The conversation she was about to have with them was certain to open up the kind of wounds that never really heal.

  Before she could even knock on the door, it opened. Her paternal grandfather was standing behind the opened door, a welcoming smile on his face.

  “Pumpkin, how good to see you!”

  Jasmine walked into the house and gave Gramps a hug; she could hear Gran quietly singing to herself in the kitchen.

  “Hi Gramps. What are you and Gran up to?” She took off her coat and accompanied him into the kitchen at the back of the house.

  “Just the usual, Gran’s cooking up something for lunch and I’m watching.” He gave a cheeky grin and pulled back a stool for her to sit on. Gran stopped her potato mashing long enough to give Jasmine a hug.

  “Are you staying for lunch, dear?”

  “Well, it looks like you’re cooking for an army. It might be too crowded for me as well!”

  “No army today, so there’ll be plenty to go around. It’s almost ready if you would like to start setting the table.” Gran finished piling all the food into serving dishes and washed her hands, flicking the tea towel over her shoulder.

  Jasmine walked to the side table and pulled out the intricate lace placemats they had eaten off since she could remember. They looked delicate, like they should just be looked at and not used, but Jasmine and Lucy had dropped food on them numerous times and they showed no sign of damage yet. They knew how to make things to last in the olden days.