The hol ow feeling spread to my innards.

"We've got a body in the basement. They say we're going to need this Brennan guy."

"I'm Tempe Brennan."

He looked at me for a long time, helmet under one arm, head tipped.

Then he wiped his nose with the back of his hand, and looked back at LaManche.

"You can go down there as soon as the chief clears you through. And better bring a spoon. There's not much left of this one."

The volunteer fireman led us down the stairs and into the back of the house. Here, most of the roof was gone and sunlight poured into the gloomy interior.

Particles of soot and dust danced on the wintry air.

We stopped at the entrance to the kitchen. On the left I could make out the remains of a counter, sink, and several large appliances. The dishwasher was open, its contents black and melted. Charred boards lay everywhere, the same giant pickup sticks I'd seen in the front rooms.

"Keep back by the wal s," said the fireman, gesturing with his arm as he disappeared around the doorjamb.

He reappeared seconds later, working his way along the west side of the room. Behind him, the countertop curled upward like a giant licorice twist.

Embedded in it were fragments of shattered wine bottles and unidentifiable globs of various sizes.

LaManche and I fol owed, sliding along the front wal , then rounding the corner and moving down the counter. We stayed as far from the center of the room as possible, picking our way through burned rubble, imploded metal containers, and scorched propane tanks.

I stopped next to the fireman, back to the counter, and surveyed the damage. The kitchen and an adjacent room were incinerated. The ceilings were gone, the separating wal reduced to a few charred timbers. What had been the floor was now a yawning black hole. An extension ladder angled from it in our direction. Through the opening I could see men in hard hats lifting debris and either flinging or carrying it out of sight.

"There is a body down there," said my guide, tipping his head at the opening. "Found it when we began to clear rubble from the floor col apse."

"Just one, or more?" I asked.

"Hel if I know. It doesn't hardly look human,"

"Adult or child?"

He gave me a "lady, are you stupid?" look.

"When can I get down there?"

His eyes slid to LaManche, back to me. "That's up to the chief.

They're stil clearing the area. We wouldn't want anything to split your pretty skul ."

He gave me what he no doubt felt was an engaging smile. He probably practiced it in the mirror.

We watched as firemen below pitched boards and tramped back and forth with loads of debris. From out of sight I could hear banter and the sound of things being dislodged and dragged.

"Have they considered that they might be destroying evidence?" I asked.