Boston, Massachusetts, Sunday & Monday…

Fortunately the driver's door was not jammed. He wrenched it open and pulled the man out from behind the airbag with considerable effort, thanking his luck that there were no passengers. He dragged the man a good twenty-five meters before the car blew up, sending parts of it flying into the air. The blast knocked him off his feet and a piece of aluminum-strengthened fiberglass sliced into his right thigh.

"Shit, what the hell just happened here?"

He had been walking home from a party, minding his own business, not even on duty. Sometimes trouble just finds you, I guess. Still on the ground, he turned the body over. It was a young kid, maybe twenty-five, but probably less. Wiry build, a redhead. He was clearly dead. The face looked familiar although he couldn't quite place it. He found his cell phone in his raincoat pocket and speed-dialed the precinct.

"Chris Tanner, badge 13417, reporting a car accident. You there, Marcia?"

Marcia, the night dispatcher, was there. Her face came on the screen.

"Chris, my sweetness, what are you doing at a car accident? I thought you were going to Denise's birthday party."

"I was walking home from it. Polcari's is only five blocks from my apartment, you know. I'm at Marlboro and Clarendon. Get an ambulance down here, will you."

"How many accident victims, honey?"

"One dead, one wounded. I'm the wounded."