Chapter 8 - Fire and Ivory
A sudden violent shudder rattled the old house as the smell of smoke began to drift down through the ventilation shaft. Driven by sheer panic, Julian grabbed an iron fire poker resting by the disused hearth and rammed it into the lock mechanism with all his strength until the old wood splintered apart. He burst up the cellar stairs into the main hall, only to find thick black smoke billowing down the grand staircase. At the landing above stood the woman who had ridden in the car with him, holding an open petrol canister, her face illuminated by the growing orange flames. In her other hand, she held a heavy brass candle holder, aiming it directly at a figure tied to a chair in the center of the upper gallery—a second woman clad in a identical, soot-stained wedding gown.
