cpatricia.unnaturalexposure-第3部分

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　'I　know；　I　know。'　I　felt　awful　about　it　as　I　looked　at　my　watch。　'It's　one…thirty。　Maybe　he　can　e　by　my　office　for　coffee？'
　'You　have　a　deposition　at　two；　a　conference　call　at　three　about　the　Norfolk…Southern　case。　A　gunshot　wound　lecture　to　the　Forensic　Science　Academy　at　four；　and　a　meeting　at　five　with　Investigator　Ring　from　the　state　police。'　Rose　went　down　the　list。
　I　did　not　like　Ring　or　his　aggressive　way　of　taking　over　cases。　When　the　second　torso　had　been　found；　he　had　inserted　himself　into　the　investigation　and　seemed　to　think　he　knew　more　than　the　FBI。
　'Ring　I　can　do　without；'　I　said；　shortly。
　My　secretary　looked　at　me　for　a　long　moment；　water　and　sponges　slapping　in　the　autopsy　suite　next　door。
　'I'll　cancel　him　and　you　can　see　Jon　instead。'　She　eyed　me　over　her　glasses　like　a　stern　headmistress。　'Then　rest；　and　that's　an　order。　Tomorrow；　Dr　Scarpetta。　Don't　e　in。　Don't　you　dare　let　me　see　you　darken　the　door。'
　I　started　to　protest　and　she　cut　me　off。
　'Don't　even　think　of　arguing；'　she　firmly　went　on。　'You　need　a　mental　health　day；　a　long　weekend。　I　wouldn't　say　that　if　I　didn't　mean　it。'
　She　was　right；　and　as　I　thought　about　having　a　day　to　myself；　my　spirits　lifted。
　'There's　not　a　thing　I　can't　reschedule；'　she　added。　'Besides。'　She　smiled。　'We're　having　a　touch　of　Indian　summer　and　it's　supposed　to　be　glorious；　in　the　eighties　with　a　big　blue　sky。　Leaves　are　at　their　peak；　poplars　an　almost　perfect　yellow。　Maples　look　like　they're　on　fire。　Not　to　mention；　it's　Halloween。　You　can　carve　a　pumpkin。'
　I　got　suit　jacket　and　shoes　out　of　my　locker。　'You　should　have　been　a　lawyer；'　I　said。
　
　
　2
　
　THE　NEXT　DAY；　the　weather　was　just　what　Rose　predicted；　and　I　woke　up　thrilled。　As　stores　were　opening；　I　set　out　to　stock　up　for　trick…or…treaters　and　dinner；　and　I　drove　far　out　on　Hull　Street　to　my　favorite　gardening　center。　Summer　plantings　had　long　since　faded　around　my　house；　and　I　could　not　bear　to　see　their　dead　stalks　in　pots。　After　lunch；　I　carried　bags　of　black　soil；　boxes　of　plants　and　a　watering　can　to　my　front　porch。
　I　opened　the　door　so　I　could　hear　Mozart　playing　inside　as　I　gently　tucked　pansies　into　their　rich；　new　bed。　Bread　was　rising；　homemade　stew　simmering　on　the　stove；　and　I　smelled　garlic　and　wine　and　loamy　soil　as　I　worked。　Marino　was　ing　for　dinner；　and　we　were　going　to　hand　out　chocolate　bars　to　my　small；　scary　neighbors。　The　world　was　a　good　place　to　live　until　three…thirty…five　when　my　pager　vibrated　against　my　waist。
　'Damn；'　I　exclaimed　as　it　displayed　the　number　for　my　answering　service。
　I　hurried　inside；　washed　my　hands　and　reached　for　the　phone。　The　service　gave　me　a　number　for　a　Detective　Grigg　with　the　Sussex　County　Sheriff's　Department；　and　I　immediately　called。
　'Grigg；'　a　man　answered　in　a　deep　voice。
　'This　is　Dr　Scarpetta；'　I　said　as　I　stared　dismally　out　windows　at　large　terra　cotta　pots　on　the　deck　and　the　dead　hibiscus　in　them。
　'Oh　good。　Thank　you　for　getting　back　to　me　so　quick。　I'm　out　here　on　a　cellular　phone；　don't　want　to　say　much。'　He　spoke　with　the　rhythm　of　the　old　South；　and　took　his　time。
　'Where；　exactly；　is　here？'　I　asked。
　'Atlantic　Waste　Landfill　on　Reeves　Road；　off　460　East。　They've　turned　something　up　I　think　you're　going　to　want　to　take　a　look　at。'
　'Is　this　the　same　sort　of　thing　that　has　turned　up　in　similar　places？'　I　cryptically　asked　as　the　day　seemed　to　get　darker。
　'Afraid　that's　what　it's　looking　like；'　he　said。
　'Give　me　directions；　and　I'm　on　my　way。'
　I　was　in　dirty　khakis；　and　an　FBI　tee　shirt　that　my　niece；　Lucy；　had　given　to　me；　and　did　not　have　time　to　change。　If　I　didn't　recover　the　body　before　dark；　it　would　have　to　stay　where　it　was　until　morning；　and　that　was　unacceptable。　Grabbing　my　medical　bag；　I　hurried　out　the　door；　leaving　soil；　cabbage　plants　and　geraniums　scattered　over　the　porch。　Of　course　my　black　Mercedes　was　low　on　gas。　I　stopped　at　Amoco　first　and　pumped　my　own；　then　was　on　my　way。
　The　drive　should　have　taken　an　hour；　but　I　sped。　Waning　light　flashed　white　on　the　underside　of　leaves；　and　rows　of　corn　were　brown　in　farms　and　gardens。　Fields　were　ruffled　green　seas　of　soybeans；　and　goats　grazed　unrestrained　in　the　yards　of　tired　homes。　Gaudy　lightning　rods　with　colored　balls　tilted　from　every　peak　and　corner；　and　I　always　wondered　what　lying　salesman　had　hit　like　a　storm　and　played　on　fear　by　preaching　more。
　Soon　grain　elevators　Grigg　had　told　me　to　look　for　came　into　view。　I　turned　on　Reeves　Road；　passing　tiny　brick　homes　and　trailer　courts　with　pickup　trucks　and　dogs；　with　no　collars。　Billboards　advertised　Mountain　Dew　arid　the　Virginia　Diner；　and　I　bumped　over　railroad　tracks；　red　dust　billowing　up　like　smoke　from　my　tires。　Ahead；　buzzards　in　the　road　picked　at　creatures　that　had　been　too　slow；　and　it　seemed　a　morbid　harbinger。
　At　the　entrance　of　the　Atlantic　Waste　Landfill；　I　slowed　my　car　to　a　stop　and　looked　out　at　a　moonscape　of　barren　acres　where　the　sun　was　setting　like　a　planet　on　fire。　Flatbed　refuse　trucks　were　sleek　and　white　with　polished　chrome；　crawling　along　the　summit　of　a　growing　mountain　of　trash。　Yellow　Caterpillars　were　striking　scorpions。　I　sat　watching　a　moiling　storm　of　dust　heading　away　from　the　landfill；　rocking　over　ruts　at　a　high　rate　of　speed。　When　it　got　to　me　it　was　a　dirty　red　Ford　Explorer　driven　by　a　young　man　who　felt　at　home　in　this　place。
　'May　I　help　you；　ma'am？'　he　said　in　a　Southern　drawl；　and　he　seemed　anxious　and　excited。
　'I'm　Dr　Kay　Scarpetta；'　I　replied；　displaying　the　brass　shield　in　its　small　black　wallet　that　I　always　pulled　at　scenes　where　I　did　not　know　anyone。
　He　studied　my　credentials；　then　his　eyes　were　dark　on　mine。　He　was　sweating　through　his　denim　shirt；　hair　wet　at　his　neck　and　temples。
　'They　said　the　medical　examiner　would　get　here；　and　for　me　to　watch　for　him；'　he　said　to　me。
　'Well；　that　would　be　me；'　I　blandly　replied。
　'Oh　yes；　ma'am。　I　didn't　mean　anything　。　。　。'　His　voice　trailed　off　as　his　eyes　wandered　over　my　Mercedes；　which　was　coated　in　dust　so　fine　and　persistent　that　nothing　could　keep　it　out。　'I　suggest　you　leave　your　car　here　and　ride　with　me；'　he　added。
　I　stared　up　at　the　landfill；　at　Caterpillars　with　rampant　blades　and　buckets　immobile　on　the　summit。　Two　unmarked　police　cars　and　an　ambulance　awaited　me　up　where　the　trouble　was；　and　officers　were　small　figures　gathered　near　the　tailgate　of　a　truck　smaller　than　the　rest；　Near　it　someone　was　poking　the　ground　with　a　stick；　and　I　got　increasingly　impatient　to　get　to　the　body。
　'Okay；'　I　said。　'Let's　do　it。'
　Parking　my　car；　I　got　my　medical　bag　and　scene　clothes　out　of　the　trunk。　The　young　man　watched　in　curious　silence　as　I　sat　in　my　driver's　seat　with　the　door　open　wide；　and　pulled　on　rubber　boots；　scarred　and　dull　from　years　of　wading　in　woods　and　rivers　for　people　murdered　and　drowned。　I　covered　myself　with　a　big　faded　denim　shirt　that　I　had　appropriated　from　my　ex…husband；　Tony；　during　a　marriage　that　now　did　not　seem　real。　Then　I　climbed　inside　the　Explorer　and　sheathed　my　hands　in　two　layers　of　gloves。　I　pulled　a　surgical　mask　over　my　head　and　left　it　loose　around　my　neck。
　'I　can't　say　that　I　blame　you；'　my　driver　said。　'The　smell's　pretty　rough。　I　can　tell　you　that。'
　'It's　not　the　smell；'　I　said。　'Microorganisms　are　what　make　me　worry。
　'Gee；'　he　said；　anxiously。　'Maybe　I　should　wear　one　of　those　things。'
　'You　shouldn't　be　getting　close　enough　to　have　a　problem。'　He　made　no　reply；　and　I　had　no　doubt　that　he　already　had　gotten　that　close。　Looking　was　too　much　of　a　temptation　for　most　people　to　resist。　The　more　gruesome　the　case；　the　more　this　was　true。
　'I　sure　am　sorry　about　the　dust；'　he　said　as　we　drove　through　tangled　goldenrod　on　the　rim　of　a　small　fire　pond　populated　with　ducks。　'You　can　see　we　put　a　layer　of　tire　chips　everywhere　to　keep　things　settled；　and　a　street　cleaner　sprays　it　down。　But　nothing　seems　to　help　all　that　much。'　He　nervously　paused　before　going　on。　'We　do　three　thousand　tons　of　trash　a　day　out　here。'
　'From　where？'　I　asked。
　'Littleton；　North　Carolina；　to　Chicago。'
　'What　about　Boston？'　I　asked；　for　the　first　four　cases　were　believed　to　be　from　as　far　away　as　that。
　'No；　ma'am。'　He　shook　his　head。　'Maybe　one　of　these　days。　We're　so　much　less　per　ton　down　here。　Twenty…five　dollars　pared　to　sixty…nine　in　New　Jersey　or　eighty　in　New　York。　Plus；　we　recycle；　test　for　hazardous　waste；　collect　methane　gas　from　deposing　trash。'
　'What　about　your　hours？'
　'Open　twenty…four　hours　a　day；　seven　days　a　week；'　he　said　with　pride。
　'And　you　have　a　way　to　track　where　the　trucks　e　from？'
　'A　satellite　system　that　uses　a　grid。　We　can　at　least　tell　you　which　trucks　would　have　dumped　trash　during　a　certain　time　period　in　the　area　where　the　body　was　found。'
　We　splashed　through　a　deep　puddle　near　Porta…Johns；　and　rocked　by　a　powerwash　where　tracks　were　being　hosed　off　on　their　way　back　out　to　life's　roads　and　highways。
　'I　can't　say　we've　ever　had　anything　like　this；'　he　said。　'Now；　they've　had　body　parts　at　the　Shoosmith　dump。　Or　at　least；　that's　the　rumor。'
　He　glanced　at　me；　assuming　I　would　know　if　such　a　rumor　were　true。　But　I　did　not　verify　what　he　had　just　said　as　the　Explorer　sloshed　through　mud　strewn　with　rubber　chips；　the　sour　stench　of　deposing　garbage　drifting　in。　My　attention　was　riveted　to　the　small　truck　I　had　been　watching　since　I　had　gotten　here；　thoughts　racing　along　a　thousand　different　tracks。
　'By　the　way；　my　name's　Keith　Pleasants。'　He　wiped　a　hand　on　his　pants　and　held　it　out　to　me。　'Pleased　to　meet　you。'
　My　gloved　hand　shook　his　at　an　awkward　angle　as　men　holding　handkerchiefs　and　rags　over　their　noses　watched　us　pull　up。　There　were　four　of　them；　gathered　around　the　back　of　what　I　now　could　see　was　a　hydraulic　packer；　used　for　emptying　Dumpsters　and　pressing　the　trash。　Cole's　Trucking　Co。　was　painted　on　the　doors。
　'That　guy　poking　garbage　with　a　stick　is　the　detective　for　Sussex；'　Pleasants　said　to　me。
　He　was　older；　in　shirtsleeves；　wearing　a　revolver　on　his　hip。　I　felt　I'd　seen　him　somewhere　before。
　'Grigg？'　I　guessed；　referring　to　the　detective　I　had　spoken　to　on　the　phone。
　'That's　right。'　Sweat　was　rolling　down　Pleasants'　face；　and　he　was　get