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'I can never forget those poor people。' She started talking about her serial cases again。 'When the first one came to me； I thought it was the IRA。 Never seen people torn asunder like that except in bombings。'
I was reminded of Mark in a way I did not want to be； and my thoughts drifted to him when he was alive and we were in love。 Suddenly he was in my mind； smiling with eyes full of a mischievous light that became electric when he laughed and teased。 There had been a lot of that in law school at Georgetown； fun and fights and staying up all night； our hunger for each other impossible to appease。 Over time we married other people； divorced and tried again。 He was my leitmotif； here； gone； then back on the phone or at my door to break my heart and wreck my bed。
I could not banish him。 It still did not seem possible that a bombing in a London train station would finally bring the tempest of our relationship to an end。 I did not imagine him dead。 I could not envision it； for there was no last image that might grant peace。 I had never seen his body； had fled from any chance； just like the old Dubliner who could not view his son。 I realized Foley was saying something to me。
'I'm sorry；' she repeated； her eyes sad； for she knew my history well。 'I didn't mean to bring up something painful。 You seem blue enough this morning。'
'You made an interesting point。' I tried to be brave。 'I suspect the killer we're looking for is rather much like a bomber。 He doesn't care who he kills。 His victims are people with no faces or names。 They are nothing but symbols of his private； evil credo。'
'Would it bother you terribly if I asked a question about Mark？' she said。
'Ask anything you want。' I smiled。 'You will anyway。'
'Have you ever gone to where it happened； visited that place where he died？'
'I don't know where it happened；' I quickly replied。
She looked at me as she smoked。
'What I mean is； I don't know where； exactly； in the train station。' I was evasive； almost stuttering。
Still she said nothing； crushing the cigarette beneath her foot。
'Actually；' I went on； 'I don't know that I've been in Victoria at all； not that particular station； since he died。 I don't think I've had reason to take a train from there。 Or arrive there。 Waterloo was the last one I was in； I think。'
'The one crime scene the great Dr Kay Scarpetta will not visit。' She tapped another Consulate out of the pack。 'Would you like one？'
'God knows I would。 But I can't。'
She sighed。 'I remember Vienna。 All those men and the two of us smoking more than they did。'
'Probably the reason we smoked so much was all those men；' I said。
'That may be the cause； but for me； there seems to be no cure。 It just goes to show that what we do is unrelated to what we know； and our feelings don't have a brain。' She shook out a match。 'I've seen smokers' lungs。 And I've seen my share of fatty livers。'
'My lungs are better since I quit。 I can't vouch for my liver；' I said。 'I haven't given up whiskey yet。'
'Don't； for God's sake。 You'd be no fun。' She paused； adding pointedly； 'Course； feelings can be directed； educated； so they don't conspire against us。'
'I will probably leave tomorrow。' I got back to that。
'You have to go to London first to change planes。' She met my eyes。 'Linger there。 A day。'
'Pardon？'
'It's unfinished business； Kay。 I have felt this for a long time。 You need to bury Mark James。'
'Margaret； what has suddenly prompted this？' I was tripping over words again。
'I know when someone is on the run。 And you are； just as much as this killer is。'
'Now； that's a forting thing to say；' I replied； and I did not want to have this conversation。
But she was not going to let me escape this time。 'For very different reasons and very similar reasons。 He's evil； you're not。 But neither of you wants to be caught。'
She had gotten to me and could tell。
'And just who or what is trying to catch me； in your opinion？' My tone was light but I felt the threat of tears。
'At this stage； I expect it's Benton Wesley。'
I stared off； past the gurney and its protruding pale foot tied with a tag。 Light from above shifted by degrees as clouds moved over the sun； and the smell of death in tile and stone went back a hundred years。
'Kay； what do you want to do？' she asked kindly as I wiped my eyes。
'He wants to marry me；' I said。
I flew home to Richmond and days became weeks with the weather getting cold。 Mornings were glazed with frost and evenings I spent in front of the fire； thinking and fretting。 So much was unresolved and silent； and I coped the way I always did； working my way deeper into the labyrinth of my profession until I could not find a way out。 It was making my secretary crazy。
'Dr Scarpetta？' She called out my name； her footsteps loud and brisk along the tile floor in the autopsy suite。
'In here；' I answered over running water。
It was October 30。 I was in the morgue locker room； washing up with antibacterial soap。
'Where have you been？' Rose asked as she walked in。 'Working on a brain。 The sudden death from the other day。'
She was holding my calendar and flipping pages。 Her gray hair was neatly pinned back； and she was dressed in a dark red suit that seemed appropriate for her mood。 Rose was deeply angry with me and had been since I' d left for Dublin without saying good…bye。 Then I forgot her birthday when I got back。 I turned off the water and dried my hands。
'Swelling； with widening of the gyri； narrowing of the sulci； all good for ischemic encephalopathy brought on by his profound systemic hypotension；' I cited。
'I've been trying to find you；' she said with strained patience。
'What did I do this time？' I threw up my hands。
'You were supposed to have lunch at the Skull and Bones with Jon。'
'Oh； God；' I groaned as I thought of him and other medical school advisees I had so little time to see。
'I reminded you this morning。 You forgot him last week； too。 He really needs to talk to you about his residency； about the Cleveland Clinic。'
'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 ri