Autopsy (Kay Scarpetta, #25)(75)

“I’ve got nothing more than a hunch to go on, and I apologize again if it turns out to be a wild goose chase.” Holding my briefcase in my lap, I’m reminded my gun is locked up at home, and this would have been a good time to have it. “Chances are we won’t find anything but that’s not going to change what I’m concluding.”

“You and me both, and I’m surprised that when you were at the scene with August Friday night, he didn’t mention the Ramada case. You were just acres away from where she died.” Marino chews gum like mad. “I realize at a glance the two cases don’t look similar but that’s not why he’s keeping his mouth shut.”

August is afraid for his job, Marino says, and he’s seen this before, especially when it’s the Feds.

“You’re trying to do the right thing, and politicians interfere,” he adds.

“It’s a shame when people are more territorial about a park than a human being,” I reply as he stares out his side window.

“What the hell?” He scowls as my secretary’s old silver Volvo backs out of its parking space, getting way too close to his truck.

“I think she’s letting us know she’s watching.” I catch a glimpse of her staring coldly at us in the glare of headlights as she drives off in a swirl of exhaust. “She told me she was headed home, and that was forty minutes ago. Where has she been? Who’s she been talking to?”

“Since I got here, she’s been sitting in her car where nobody can hear what she’s saying on the phone,” Marino replies, and I remember the look on Maggie’s face when she realized I’d overheard her conversation in the corridor.

“As if she hasn’t caused enough trouble already.” I put on my shoulder harness. “Mark my words, she’d like nothing better than to get me fired. I’ll be lucky if I last an entire month the way things are headed.”

“What does Benton think about all the crap going on?”

“That my office is close to unmanageable. The governor, the attorney general may have wanted me to fix the Virginia medical examiner system, in particular the office here. But it doesn’t seem that’s what anybody else wants, and I’m not sure moving back here was the best plan.”

“They can screw themselves.” Only Marino doesn’t say screw. “We’re not turning tail and running.”

“No, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be invited to leave because I’m a problem.” I envision Maggie threatening me. “What we’re doing right now is a good example.” I remember what she said about me always having to poke a stick at things.

“Does Benton know why we’re headed to the park? Is he thinking the same thing we are?”

“He says what you’ve heard before, that when serial offenders have signatures, patterns, it’s about their highly personalized fantasies,” I reply. “Violent psychopaths often have rituals they repeat unless something interrupts them.”

“Well, one thing I know for sure by now is to pay attention when you get one of your hunches, Doc,” Marino says, and the coast is clear, Maggie gone.

He begins backing up, using his mirrors, craning his neck. Ignoring the parking assist cameras, he muscles his monster truck into a U-turn, and the more keyed up he gets, the more he tends to manhandle. He drives through my nearly empty parking lot, and I can’t get the image of the flattened penny out of my thoughts.

August held it in his gloved hand, shining his light on it, and I literally couldn’t make heads or tails of what I was seeing. Nothing engraved on it was legible including Lincoln’s image or the date until later when the coin was magnified. The silvery zinc was marbled with bright copper plating, the date 2020, not a hint of a brown or green patina.

“It’s hard to say when something’s been run over by a train,” I explain as we stop at the security gate, “but it seems apparent to me the penny hadn’t been out there long. Possibly hours, at the most days, because in wet conditions, the metal would have started tarnishing quickly.”

“Like I said, you’ve always got a reason for your hunches.” Marino eases forward as the security gate arm goes up. “Usually a damn ugly one.” He drives out of the parking lot.

“What I think happened couldn’t be uglier,” I reply, and inside I’m seething. “If I’m right there will be hell to pay even if it costs me my job. The way someone dies isn’t let’s make a damn deal.”

“Take a breath, Doc. We’ll fix it just like we always do. Elvin Reddy’s an incompetent scumbag, and I hate it when people like that get rewarded.”

“We’ll see how rewarded he is by the time this is over.” I unpleasantly envision him drinking coffee at the White House, the back of his bald head shiny like polished stone.

“Imagine the damage he’s caused over all these years,” Marino says as the light turns red at the intersection up ahead, a long line of cars forming. “Like we’re always saying, when you take out one person, you take out everybody. Looking the other way, lying about it means somebody else gets hurt.”

“How are your neighbors holding up? They must be in an uproar. How awful not to feel safe where you live, especially if it’s your dream home.”

“It’s bad,” he says.