cpatricia.unnaturalexposure-第6部分

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orce　Base　with　the　boys；　to　board　yet　another　C…141　cargo　plane。　Stepping　around　stacks　of　journals　waiting　to　be　read　and　thick　medical　tomes　that　I　recently　had　bought　but　had　not　yet　shelved；　I　sat　at　my　desk。　My　office　was　the　most　lived…in　room　in　my　house；　and　I　had　designed　it　with　a　fireplace　and　large　windows　overlooking　a　rocky　bend　in　the　James　River。
　Logging　on　to　America　Online；　or　AOL；　I　was　greeted　by　a　mechanical　male　voice　announcing　that　I　had　mail。　I　had　e…mail　about　various　cases；　trials；　professional　meetings　and　journal　articles；　and　one　message　from　someone　I　did　not　recognize。　His　user　name　was　deadoc。　Immediately；　I　was　uneasy。　There　was　no　description　of　what　this　person　had　sent；　and　when　I　opened　what　he　had　written　to　me；　it　simply　said；　ten。
　A　graphic　file　had　been　attached；　and　I　downloaded　and　depressed　it。　An　image　began　to　materialize　on　my　screen；　rolling　down　in　color；　one　band　of　pixels　at　a　time。　I　realized　I　was　looking　at　a　photograph　of　a　wall　the　color　of　putty；　and　the　edge　of　a　table　with　some　sort　of　pale　blue　cover　on　it　that　was　smeared　and　pooled　with　something　dark　red。　Then　a　ragged；　gaping　red　wound　was　painted　on　the　screen；　followed　by　flesh　tones　that　became　bloody　stumps　and　nipples。
　I　stared　in　disbelief　as　the　horror　was　plete；　and　I　grabbed　the　phone。
　'Marino；　I　think　you'd　better　get　over　here；'　I　said　in　a　scared　tone。
　'What's　wrong？'　he　said；　alarmed。
　'There's　something　here　you　need　to　see。'
　'Are　you　okay？'
　'I　don't　know。'
　'Sit　tight；　Doc。'　He　took　charge。　'I'm　ing。'
　I　printed　the　file　and　saved　it　on　my　A　drive；　fearful　it　would　somehow　vanish　before　my　eyes。　While　I　waited　for　Marino；　I　dimmed　the　lights　in　my　office　to　make　details　and　colors　brighter。　My　mind　ran　in　a　terrible　loop　as　I　stared　at　the　butchery；　the　blood　forming　a　vile　portrait　that　for　me；　ordinarily；　wasn't　rare。　Other　physicians；　scientists；　lawyers　and　law　enforcement　officers　frequently　sent　me　photographs　like　this　over　the　Internet。　Routinely；　I　was　asked；　via　e…mail；　to　examine　crime　scenes；　organs；　wounds；　diagrams；　even　animated　reconstructions　of　cases　about　to　go　to　court。
　This　photograph　could　easily　have　been　one　sent　by　a　detective；　a　colleague。　It　could　have　e　from　a　monwealth's　Attorney　or　CASKU。　But　there　was　one　thing　obviously　wrong。　So　far　we　had　no　crime　scene　in　this　case；　only　a　landfill　where　the　victim　had　been　dumped；　and　the　trash　and　tattered　bag　that　had　been　around　her。　Only　the　killer　or　someone　else　involved　in　the　crime　could　have　sent　this　file　to　me。
　Fifteen　minutes　later；　at　almost　midnight；　my　doorbell　rang；　and　I　jumped　out　of　my　chair。　I　ran　down　the　hall　to　let　Marino　in。
　'What　the　hell　is　it　now？'　he　said　right　off。
　He　was　sweating　in　a　gray　Richmond　police　tee　shirt　that　was　tight　over　his　big　body　and　gut；　and　baggy　shorts　and　athletic　shoes　with　tube　socks　pulled　up　to　his　calves。　I　smelled　stale　sweat　and　cigarettes。
　'e　on；'　I　said。
　He　followed　me　down　the　hall　into　my　office；　and　when　he　saw　what　was　on　the　puter　screen；　he　sat　in　my　chair；　scowling　as　he　stared。
　'Is　this　what　the　shit　I　think　it　is？'　he　said。
　'Appears　the　photograph　was　taken　where　the　body　was　dismembered。'　I　was　not　used　to　having　anyone　in　the　private　place　where　I　worked；　and　I　could　feel　my　anxiety　level　rise。
　'This　is　what　you　found　today。'
　'What　you're　looking　at　was　taken　shortly　after　death；'　I　said。　'But　yes；　this　is　the　torso　from　the　landfill。'
　'How　do　you　know？'　Marino　said。
　His　eyes　were　fastened　to　the　screen；　and　he　adjusted　my　chair。　Then　his　big　feet　shoved　books　on　the　floor　as　he　made　himself　more　fortable。　When　he　picked　up　files　and　moved　them　to　another　corner　of　my　desk；　I　couldn't　stand　it　any　longer。
　'I　have　things　where　I　want　them；'　I　pointedly　said　as　I　returned　the　files　to　their　original　messy　space。
　'Hey；　chill　out；　Doc；'　he　said　as　if　it　didn't　matter。　'How　do　we　know　that　this　thing　ain't　a　hoax？'
　Again；　he　moved　the　files　out　of　his　way；　and　now　I　was　really　irritated。
　'Marino；　you're　going　to　have　to　get　up；'　I　said。　'I　don't　let　anybody　sit　at　my　desk。　You're　making　me　crazy。'
　He　shot　me　an　angry　look　and　got　up　out　of　my　chair。　'Hey；　do　me　a　favor。　Next　time　call　somebody　else　when　you　got　a　problem。'
　'Try　to　be　sensitive　。　。　。'
　He　cut　me　off；　losing　his　temper。　'No。　You　be　sensitive　and　quit　being　such　a　friggin'　fussbudges。　No　wonder　you　and　Wesley　got　problems。'
　'Marino；'　I　warned；　'you　just　crossed　a　line　and　better　stop　right　there。'
　He　was　silent；　looking　around；　sweating。
　'Let's　get　back　to　this。'　I　sat　in　my　chair；　readjusting　it。　'I　don't　think　this　is　a　hoax；　and　I　believe　it's　the　torso　from　the　landfill。'
　'Why？'　He　would　not　look　at　me；　hands　in　his　pockets。
　'Arms　and　legs　are　severed　through　the　long　bones；　not　the　joints。'　I　touched　the　screen。　'There　are　other　similarities。　It's　her；　unless　another　victim　with　a　similar　body　type　has　been　killed　and　dismembered　in　the　same　manner；　and　we've　not　found　her　yet。　And　I　don't　know　how　someone　could　have　perpetrated　a　hoax　like　this　without　knowing　how　the　victim　was　dismembered。　Not　to　mention；　this　case　hasn't　hit　the　news　yet。'
　'Shit。'　His　face　was　deep　red。　'So；　is　there　something　like　a　return　address？'
　'Yes。　Someone　on　AOL　with　the　name　D…E…A…D…O…C。'
　'As　in　Dead…Doc？'　He　was　intrigued　enough　to　forget　his　mood。
　'I　can　only　assume。　The　message　was　one　word：　ten。'
　'That's　it？'
　'In　lowercase　letters。'
　He　looked　at　me；　thinking。　'You　count　the　ones　in　Ireland；　this　is　number　ten。　You　got　a　copy　of　this　thing？'
　'Yes。　And　the　Dublin　cases　and　their　possible　connection　to　the　first　four　here　have　been　in　the　news。'　I　handed　him　a　printout。　'Anybody　could　know　about　it。'
　'Don't　matter。　Assuming　this　is　the　same　killer　and　he's　just　struck　again；　he　knows　damn　well　how　many　he's　killed；'　he　said。　'But　what　I'm　not　getting　is　how　he　knew　where　to　send　this　file　to　you？'
　'My　address　in　AOL　wouldn't　be　hard　to　guess。　It's　my　name。'
　'Jesus；　I　can't　believe　you　would　do　that；'　he　erupted　again。　'That's　like　using　your　date　of　birth　for　your　burglar　alarm　code。'
　'I　use　e…mail　almost　exclusively　to　municate　with　medical　examiners；　people　in　the　Health　Department；　the　police。　They　need　something　easy　to　remember。　Besides；'　I　added　as　his　stare　continued　to　pass　judgment　on　me；　'it's　never　been　a　problem。'
　'Well；　now　it　sure　as　hell　is；'　he　said；　looking　at　the　printout。　'Good　news　is；　maybe　we'll　find　something　in　here　that　will　help。　Maybe　he　left　a　trail　in　the　puter。'
　'On　the　Web；'　I　said。
　'Yeah；　whatever；'　he　said。　'Maybe　you　should　call　Lucy。'
　'Benton　should　do　that；'　I　reminded　him。　'I　can't　ask　her　help　on　a　case　just　because　I'm　her　aunt。'
　'So　I　guess　I　got　to　call　him　about　that；　too。'　He　picked　his　way　around　my　clutter；　walking　to　the　doorway。　'I　hope　you've　got　some　beer　in　this　joint。'　He　stopped　and　turned　toward　me。　'You　know；　Doc；　it　ain't　none　of　my　business；　but　you　got　to　talk　to　him　eventually。'
　'You're　right；'　I　said。　'It's　none　of　your　business。'
　
　3
　
　THE　NEXT　MORNING；　I　woke　up　to　the　muffled　drumming　of　heavy　rain　on　the　roof　and　the　persistent　beeping　of　my　alarm。　The　hour　was　early　for　a　day　that　I　was　supposed　to　be　taking　off　from　work；　and　it　struck　me　that　during　the　night　the　month　had　turned　into　November。　Winter　was　not　far　away；　another　year　gone。　Opening　shades；　I　looked　out　at　the　day。　Petals　from　my　roses　were　beaten　to　the　ground；　the　river　swollen　and　flowing　around　rocks　that　looked　black。
　I　felt　bad　about　Marino。　I　had　been　impatient　with　him　when　I　had　sent　him　home　without　a　beer　last　night。　But　I　did　not　want　to　talk　with　him　about　matters　he　would　not　understand。　For　him；　it　was　simple。　I　was　divorced。　Benton　Wesley's　wife　had　left　him　for　another　man。　We'd　been　having　an　affair；　so　we　might　as　well　get　married。　For　a　while　I　had　gone　along　with　the　plan。　Last　fall　and　winter；　Wesley　and　I　went　skiing；　diving；　we　shopped；　cooked　in　and　out　and　even　worked　in　my　yard。　We　did　not　get　along　worth　a　damn。
　In　fact；　I　didn't　want　him　in　my　house　any　more　than　I　wanted　Marino　sitting　in　my　chair。　When　Wesley　moved　a　piece　of　furniture　or　even　returned　dishes　and　silverware　to　the　wrong　cabinets　and　drawers；　I　felt　a　secret　anger　that　surprised　and　dismayed　me。　I　had　never　believed　that　our　relationship　was　right　when　he　was　still　married；　but　back　then　we　had　enjoyed　each　other　more；　especially　in　bed。　I　feared　that　my　failure　to　feel　what　I　thought　I　should　revealed　a　trait　that　I　could　not　bear　to　see。
　I　drove　to　my　office　with　the　windshield　wipers　working　hard　as　the　relentless　downpour　thrummed　the　roof。　Traffic　was　thin　because　it　was　barely　seven；　and　Richmond's　downtown　skyline　came　into　view　slowly　and　by　degrees　in　the　watery　fog。　I　thought　of　the　photograph　again。　I　envisioned　it　slowly　painting　down　my　screen；　and　the　hairs　on　my　arms　stood　up　as　a　chill　crept　over　me。　I　was　disturbed　in　a　way　I　could　not　define　as　it　occurred　to　me　for　the　first　time　that　the　person　who　had　sent　it　might　be　someone　I　knew。
　Turning　on　the　Seventh　Street　exit；　I　wound　around　Shockoe　Slip；　with　its　wet　cobblestones　and　trendy　restaurants　that　were　dark　at　this　hour。　I　passed　parking　lots　barely　beginning　to　fill；　and　turned　into　the　one　behind　my　four…story　stucco　building。　I　couldn't　believe　it　when　I　found　a　television　news　van　waiting　in　my　parking　place；　which　was　clearly　designated　by　a　sign　that　read　CHIEF　MEDICAL　EXAMINER。　The　crew　knew　that　if　they　waited　there　long　enough；　they　would　be　rewarded　with　me。
　I　pulled　up　close　and　motioned　for　them　to　move　as　the　van's　doors　slid　open。　A　cameraman　in　a　rain　suit　jumped　out；　ing　my　way；　a　reporter　in　tow　with　a　microphone。　I　rolled　my　window　down　several　inches。
　'Move；'　I　said；　and　I　wasn't　nice　about　it。　'You're　in　my　parking　place。'
　They　did　not　care　as　someone　else　got　out　with　lights。　For　a　moment　I　sat　staring；　anger　turning　me　hard　like　amber。　The　reporter　was　blocking　my　door；　her　microphone　shoved　through　the　opening　in　the　window。
　'Dr　Scarpetta；　can　you　verify　that　the　Butcher　has　struck　again？'　she　asked；　loudly；　as　the　camera　rolle