The Devil's Opera(124)
“There!” Byron said in a loud voice. “See that? That sky rat was killed by the steam from the exploded boiler. If you go in now, you’ll die, just like it did and just like they did.” He waved his free hand at the bodies.
“But we need to help them!” the sergeant said again.
“You can’t help them,” Byron said. “They’re dead, all of them. And if we rush in now, we’ll just add more bodies to the pile.”
“So what do we do?” Karl Honister asked, pushing through the crowd.
“Spread out, keep well away from the site, and keep people from going in. And find me some more birds, chickens, dogs, mice, donkey, horse; something.”
“Chickens?” Gotthilf asked as the patrolmen began fanning out around the perimeter of the site.
“Need something to toss in to tell us when the heat is gone and the air is good again.”
“Ah.”
“Go find me some rope, too. Lots of it.”
Chapter 50
“So, steam boiler explosion, huh?”
Gotthilf looked around to see Dr. Nichols stop beside Captain Reilly. Reilly pointed at Byron. “He’s the site commander.”
Nichols looked at Byron. “Yeah,” Byron said, waving his hand at the scene before them.
Gotthilf looked around to see Otto Gericke arriving with an appalled look on his face, Prince Ulrik at his side and a handful of Marine guards following the prince. He craned his head around, and was relieved to see that the emperor had apparently decided to remain at the palace. That was a very good idea, in his opinion.
“Hi, Doc,” Byron said. “You know Dr. Schlegel? He’s wearing his medical examiner’s hat today.” He pointed to a down-timer who turned from talking to Otto Gericke and came their direction.
“We’ve worked together some,” Nichols said. “Hi, Paul.”
The two men shook hands, then Nichols turned back to Byron.
“How long since the explosion?”
Byron looked at his watch. “Not quite ten minutes.”
“Hmm.” Dr. Nichols looked around. He licked a finger and held it up. “I did part of my interning at a Chicago emergency room. You’d be surprised how many buildings still had steam boiler heating plants back in the ’80’s. I saw my fair share of scaldings, so I picked the brains of an old ER doc and his best friend, the retired fire chief.” He dropped his hand. “You let anyone enter the scene yet?”
“No. Wasn’t sure how long it would take to be safe.”
“Good man.” White teeth flashed in the dark face. “But the steam wasn’t contained by walls and there’s a bit of a breeze. My information says that if the steam fog is gone, it’s cool enough to enter, and the breeze will have refreshed the oxygen in the area, so it should be okay.”
Byron nodded and looked to Gotthilf. “Need that rope now.”
Gotthilf pointed to a large coil of one-inch rope lying nearby.
“Right.” Byron raised his voice. “Need a volunteer, front and center!”
Several of the patrolmen pushed forward. Byron pointed at Sergeant Milich. “You. Take a turn of that rope around your waist, then head into the worksite slowly. You’re headed for where that wagon was, but walk all over the place without messing the scene up any more than you have to. Got that?”
“Got it,” the sergeant said, hands busy at tying the rope around his middle. “What’s the rope for?”
“So if the doc’s wrong and you get hurt or drop, we can pull you out fast enough that we can maybe save your life. Still up for this?”
Milich gave a firm nod. Dr. Nichols grinned, not insulted by Byron’s caution.
Byron clapped the sergeant on the shoulder. “Okay, get moving.”
Milich moved forward gingerly, taking one slow step after another. As he approached the first clump of bodies, he slowed even more, placing his feet with care.
Gotthilf handed the rope to a couple of patrolmen with instructions to pay it out as Milich advanced.
“So, where did you learn enough about steam that you knew to keep people out of there?” Nichols asked Byron.
“Grandpa Buck was a factory hand in Pittsburgh when a big boiler blew,” Byron said, without turning his head from following Milich’s progress. “Told me to never have anything to do with steam.”
“Smart man, your Grandpa Buck,” Nichols observed.
“Yep.”
Milich was about halfway through the worksite, nearing the largest group of bodies. He stopped suddenly, holding still, then stumbled a couple of steps away from the bodies and vomited.
The sound of his retching reached the crowd that was building up outside the perimeter of patrolmen. A few of the patrolmen chuckled. Gotthilf turned and faced them.