The Darkness of Evil (Karen Vail #7)(34)



“From there you went into the DEA?”

“My degree was in chemical engineering. Then I did an internship with Dow and realized I didn’t want a career in corporate or research work. Too boring for my taste. But someone at Dow mentioned there was a need for chemists in law enforcement.” Prati set a spoonful of broccolini on his plate. “Started out with Florida Department of Law Enforcement, then hooked on with ATF.”

“ATF,” Vail said. “Impressive. What’s the hire rate, 5 percent of applicants?”

“I think it’s even lower. No question I was fortunate. The six years I spent with them was an important six years. Learned a hell of a lot about arson, explosives, firearms trafficking—and the criminal elements that play in those sandboxes. The most eye-opening experience was the training I got at the fire research lab in Beltsville.”

“What’s a fire research lab?” Jonathan asked.

Prati chuckled. “A place where people go to play with fire. Seriously, it’s a huge facility dedicated to the study of fire. Fire scientists use every imaginable piece of high-tech instrumentation to measure heat release rate, burn rate, something called heat flux, and a bunch of other things important in forensic reconstruction of fire-related crimes. Only one like it in the world. They even construct actual buildings and re-create an arson scene that they videotape to demonstrate burn patterns for investigation and court testimony.”

“I’d love to check that out,” Robby said.

“I can probably get you a tour. Just stay away from the dead pigs.”

“Is that a joke?” Vail asked.

Prati laughed. “Pigs have the same makeup of skin, fat content, and body mass as we do, so the scientists use them to simulate the burning of a human body. Those studies helped me break the last case I worked for ATF. A string of arsons that ultimately turned out to be crime concealment fires.”

“We’ve got one of those right now at the BAU,” Vail said.

“They can be tough, especially if the arsonist is good.”

“Still getting info on the other crime scenes but it definitely looks serial.”

“Can you pass the chicken?” Robby asked. “Which case is this?”

Vail lifted the serving dish to her left and handed it to him. “Not one of mine. It’s Art Rooney’s. But we’ve got those Wednesday presentations where we put our heads together, help each other out.”

“I’ll have some of that, too,” Jonathan said, receiving the platter from Robby. “I assume a crime concealment fire is what it sounds like?”

“Pretty much,” Prati said. “Killer sets fires to cover his tracks. It’s a way to destroy any evidence they inadvertently left behind. Like if they touched things without realizing it. This way, they get rid of everything and don’t have to worry about it.”

“But they have to know a fire like that will attract attention,” Ryan said. “Obviously the fire department’s gonna be all over it.”

“And the police,” Prati said, “if not the ATF. But they’re figuring that whatever evidence they’ve left behind linking them to the crime will be destroyed.”

“And if they’ve killed someone,” Vail said, “they’re hoping they’ve completely removed the ability for investigators to determine that it’s even a homicide. No body, you can’t even be sure the person in question was home at the time.”

Prati finished chewing and pointed his fork at Vail. “Yeah, but arson investigators are really sharp. They find all kinds of stuff the offender has no idea these guys can find. They can usually tell it’s an arson.”

“Art had a case where the body was pretty well gone but not completely consumed. They were able to tell that the cause of death wasn’t the fire but some other kind of traumatic injury.” She turned to Ryan. “Unless the offender’s an insider, they don’t know all the things we can do. Like the guy who kidnapped and killed that family in DC. While waiting for the ransom payment, he ordered pizza. We got DNA off the crust in the garbage, ID’d him, and nabbed his ass.” Vail stuck her fork into another chunk of chicken. “Everything’s really good, honey. Thanks again for taking care of dinner.”

“Yes,” Prati said, “everything’s perfect. I appreciate you asking us over.”

“I’m glad we got to meet Ryan,” Robby said.

“How’s GW?” Prati asked.

Jonathan wiped his mouth with the napkin. “I’m really enj—”

Vail’s phone vibrated noticeably, crawling along the table. Her eyes drifted over to Robby’s. He shook his head subtly, telling her not to look. But she had to. She was now working a case that was time sensitive. She had been warned about not missing a text.

Except that it wasn’t a text. It was a phone call.

“Excuse me,” she said. “I’ve gotta take this.”

“No worries.” Prati laughed. “Just goes to what we were saying before. And hey—any questions about fire, I’m happy to help.”

She thanked him, apologizing again as she gathered up the Samsung and walked into the family room. It was Hurdle.

“I thought you said to be back at ten.”

“Something’s come up.”

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