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Never!

CHAPTER SEVEN
    Less than twenty-four hours passed between the end of the Fitchett press conference and the first fire trucks appearing at the front gates of his mansion. Even before they’d made it through the security gates, it was obvious to the firefighters that the blaze was completely out of control. The entire mansion, from one end to the other, was engulfed in flames. Thick pillars of smoke rose from each of the dozens of windows and joined together in a black cloud, hanging low in the dawn light above the dwelling.
    The trucks quickly took up positions around the perimeter of the building and began pumping water onto the raging fire. There was no thought of trying to enter the mansion. Fire blocked all entrances. If anybody was inside they were now incinerated. No point in risking the lives of firefighters just to bring the corpses out sooner.
    The whereabouts of Joshua Fitchett were unaccounted for.
    The order was given by the fire chief to contain the inferno and prevent nearby structures from being ignited. This was a simple task. Surrounded by extensive gardens and lawns, the mansion was well away from any outlying buildings, and the fire certainly presented no danger to the neighbouring homes in the distance. The mansion itself was beyond salvation.
    Given the circumstances, a call had been put in to the arson squad right away. It was obvious, even to the first reporters on the scene, that this was a suspicious blaze. The members of the arson squad stood and observed the fire until it was finally subdued. Then they waited for the wreckage to cool sufficiently to allow them to begin their work.
    Quickly, these “fire detectives” uncovered frightening evidence from the charred ruins. They discovered that the security and fire-control room had not been burned up but had been blown up by explosives. There were twenty-four separate places, spread throughout the mansion, where fire had been started with highly flammable chemicals—accelerants. At all entrances they found that furniture had been piled high to stop anyone from leaving. And in the master bedroom, they found the charred remains of a human being. It was incinerated not only beyond identification but almost beyond recognition as a human being. Tissue samples were scraped and stored to allow DNA testing. The dental pattern was charted for comparison with known records.
    Before long, however, they discovered that no records existed of Mr. Fitchett to compare with these samples. As far as they could tell he had never been to a dentist or a doctor—at least outside the confines of his private clinic, and there were no records there. They knew that a human had died in Fitchett’s room, but they had no idea if it was, in fact, Fitchett.
    The press coverage of the fire was overwhelming. There were many more reporters on the scene than fire personnel. Had Fitchett been killed, as he had predicted, to silence him?
    Rumours swirled around. In the absence of definite truths the press speculated about the cause of the fire and the number of corpses recovered.
    Finally, three days after the fire had started, an official announcement was made.
    “The only possible conclusion is that the fire at the Fitchett mansion was set in a skilled and deliberate manner. This was not an accidental blaze but one planned to burn the dwelling to the ground.
    “One body has been recovered from the ruins. The body was too damaged to support positive identification, and attempts to use dental and tissue matches have been unsuccessful. However, the body was discovered in the master bedroom, and Mr. Fitchett’s whereabouts are unknown. Therefore, we believe that the body is that of Joshua Fitchett.
    “We have no leads as to the person or persons responsible. The investigation is ongoing. That concludes the statement. Thank you.”
    The world press, and the population that they reported to, needed no further proof to reach their conclusions. The charred remains
did
belong to