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erybody's cheating。 He brought a girl the last time。' He shook his head。 'She bowled like the damn Flintstones； dressed like them； too。 In this leopard…skin thing。 All that was missing was a bone in her hair。 Well； tell him we'll talk。'
He walked off； his keys jingling。
'Detective Grigg； thanks for your help；' I said。
He gave me a nod and climbed into his Caprice。
When I designed my house； I made sure the laundry room was directly off the garage because after working scenes like this one； I did not want to track death through the rooms of my private life。 Within minutes of my getting out of my car； my clothes were in the washing machine； shoes and boots in an industrial sink； where I scrubbed them with detergent and a stiff brush。
Wrapping up in a robe I kept hanging on the back of the door； I headed to the master bedroom and took a long； hot shower。 I was worn out and discouraged。 Right now； I did not have the energy to imagine her； or her name； or who she had been； and I pushed images and odors from my mind。 I fixed myself a drink and a salad； staring dismally at the big bowl of Halloween candy on the counter as I thought of plants waiting to be potted on the porch。 Then I called Marino。
'Listen；' I said to him when he answered the phone。 'I think Benton should be here for this in the morning。'
There was a long pause。 'Okay；' he said。 'Meaning you want me to tell him to get his ass to Richmond。 Versus your telling him。'
'If you wouldn't mind。 I'm beat。' 'No problem。 What time？'
'Whenever he wants。 I'll be down there all day。'
I went back to the office in my house to check e…mail before I went to bed。 Lucy rarely called when she could use the puter to tell me how and where she was。 My niece was an FBI agent； the technical specialist for their Hostage Rescue Team； or HRT。 She could be sent anywhere in the world at a moment's notice。
Like a fretful mother； I found myself frequently checking for messages from her； dreading the day her pager went off； sending her to Andrews Air Force 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