cpatricia.unnaturalexposure-第1章

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agues　。　。　。
　 Revelation　21：9
　
　1
　
　NIGHT　FELL　CLEAN　and　cold　in　Dublin；　and　wind　moaned　beyond　my　room　as　if　a　million　pipes　played　the　air。　Gusts　shook　old　windowpanes　and　sounded　like　spirits　rushing　past　as　I　rearranged　pillows　one　more　time；　finally　resting　on　my　back　in　a　snarl　of　Irish　linen。　But　sleep　would　not　touch　me；　and　images　from　the　day　returned。　I　saw　bodies　without　limbs　or　heads；　and　sat　up；　sweating。
　I　switched　on　lamps；　and　the　Shelbourne　Hotel　was　suddenly　around　me　in　a　warm　glow　of　rich　old　woods　and　deep　red　plaids。　I　put　on　a　robe；　my　eyes　lingering　on　the　phone　by　my　fitfully…slept…in　bed。　It　was　almost　two　A。M。　In　Richmond；　Virginia；　it　would　be　five　hours　earlier；　and　Pete　Marino；　mander　of　the　city　police　department's　homicide　squad；　should　be　up。　He　was　probably　watching　TV；　smoking；　eating　something　bad　for　him　unless　he　was　on　the　street。
　I　dialed　his　number；　and　he　grabbed　the　phone　as　if　he　were　right　next　to　it。
　'Trick　or　treat。'　He　was　loudly　on　his　way　to　being　drunk。
　'You're　a　little　early；'　I　said；　already　regretting　the　call。　'By　a　couple　of　weeks。'
　'Doc？'　He　paused　in　confusion。　'That　you？　You　back　in　Richmond？'
　'Still　in　Dublin。　What's　all　the　motion？'
　'Just　some　of　us　guys　with　faces　so　ugly　we　don't　need　masks。　So　every　day　is　Halloween。　Hey！　Bubba's　bluffing；'　he　yelled　out。
　'You　always　think　everybody's　bluffing；'　a　voice　fired　back。　'It's　from　being　a　detective　too　long。'
　'What　you　talking　about？　Marino　can't　even　detect　his　own　B。O。'
　Laughter　in　the　background　was　loud　as　the　drunk；　derisive　ments　continued。
　'We're　playing　poker；'　Marino　said　to　me。　'What　the　hell　time　is　it　there？'
　'You　don't　want　to　know；'　I　answered。　'I've　got　some　unsettling　news；　but　it　doesn't　sound　like　we　should　get　into　it　now。'
　'No。　No；　hold　on。　Let　me　just　move　the　phone。　Shit。　I　hate　the　way　the　cord　gets　twisted；　you　know　what　I　mean？　Goddamn　it。'　I　could　hear　his　heavy　footsteps　and　a　chair　scraping。　'Okay；　Doc。　So　what　the　hell's　going　on？'
　'I　spent　most　of　today　discussing　the　landfill　cases　with　the　state　pathologist。　Marino；　I'm　increasingly　suspicious　that　Ireland's　serial　dismemberments　are　the　work　of　the　same　individual　we're　dealing　with　in　Virginia。'
　He　raised　his　voice。　'You　guys　hold　it　down　in　there！'
　I　could　hear　him　moving　farther　away　from　his　pals　as　I　rearranged　the　duvet　around　me。　I　reached　for　the　last　few　sips　of　Black　Bush　I　had　carried　to　bed。
　'Dr　Foley　worked　the　five　Dublin　cases；'　I　went　on。　'I've　reviewed　all　of　them。　Torsos。　Spines　cut　horizontally　through　the　caudal　aspect　of　the　fifth　cervical　vertebral　body。　Arms　and　legs　severed　through　the　joints；　which　is　usual；　as　I've　pointed　out　before。　Victims　are　a　racial　mix；　estimated　ages　between　eighteen　and　thirty…five。　All　are　unidentified　and　signed　out　as　homicides　by　unspecified　means。　In　each　case；　heads　and　limbs　were　never　found；　the　remains　discovered　in　privately　owned　landfills。'
　'Damn；　if　that　don't　sound　familiar。'　he　said。
　'There　are　other　details。　But　yes；　the　parallels　are　profound。'
　'So　maybe　the　squirrel's　in　the　U。S。　now；'　he　said。　'Guess　it's　a　damn　good　thing　you　went　over　there；　after　all。'
　He　certainly　hadn't　thought　so　at　first。　No　one　really　had。　I　was　the　chief　medical　examiner　of　Virginia；　and　when　the　Royal　College　of　Surgeons　had　invited　me　to　give　a　series　of　lectures　at　Trinity's　medical　school；　I　could　not　pass　up　an　opportunity　to　investigate　the　Dublin　crimes。　Marino　had　thought　it　a　waste　of　time；　while　the　FBI　had　assumed　the　value　of　the　research　would　prove　to　be　little　more　than　statistical。
　Doubts　were　understandable。　The　homicides　in　Ireland　were　more　than　ten　years　old；　and　as　was　true　in　the　Virginia　cases；　there　was　so　little　to　go　on。　We　did　not　have　fingerprints；　dentition；　sinus　configurations　or　witnesses　for　identification。　We　did　not　have　biological　samples　from　people　missing　to　pare　to　the　victims'　DNA。　We　did　not　know　the　means　of　death。　Therefore；　it　was　very　difficult　to　say　much　about　the　killer；　except　that　I　believed　he　was　experienced　with　a　meat　saw　and　quite　possibly　used　one　in　his　profession；　or　had　at　one　time。
　'The　last　case　in　Ireland；　that　we　know　of；　was　a　decade　ago；'　I　was　saying　to　Marino　over　the　line。　'In　the　past　two　years　we've　had　four　in　Virginia。'
　'So　you're　thinking　he　stopped　for　eight　years？'　he　said。　'Why？　He　was　in　prison；　maybe；　for　some　other　crime？'
　'I　don't　know。　He　may　have　been　killing　somewhere　else　and　the　cases　haven't　been　connected；'　I　replied　as　wind　made　unearthly　sounds。
　'There's　those　serial　cases　in　South　Africa；'　he　thickly　thought　out　loud。　'In　Florence；　Germany；　Russia；　Australia。　Shit；　now　that　you　think　of　it；　they're　friggin'　everywhere。　Hey！'　He　put　his　hand　over　the　phone。　'Smoke　your　own　damn　cigarettes！　What　do　you　think　this　is？　Friggin'　welfare！'
　Male　voices　were　rowdy　in　the　background；　and　someone　had　put　on　Randy　Travis。
　'Sounds　like　you're　having　fun；'　I　dryly　said。　'Please　don't　invite　me　next　year；　either。'
　'Bunch　of　animals；'　he　mumbled。　'Don't　ask　me　why　I　do　this。　Every　time　they　drink　me　outa　house；　home。　Cheat　at　cards。'
　'The　M。O。　in　these　cases　is　very　distinctive。'　My　tone　was　meant　to　sober。
　'Okay；'　he　said。　'So　if　this　guy　started　in　Dublin；　maybe　we're　looking　for　someone　Irish。　I　think　you　should　hurry　back　home。'　He　belched。　'Sounds　like　we　need　to　go　to　Quantico　and　get　on　this。　You　told　Benton　yet？'
　Benton　Wesley　headed　the　FBI's　Child　Abduction　Serial　Killer　Unit；　or　CASKU；　for　which　both　Marino　and　I　were　consultants。
　'I　haven't　had　a　chance　to　tell　him　yet。'　I　replied；　hesitantly。　'Maybe　you　can　give　him　a　heads…up。　I'll　get　home　as　soon　as　I　can。'
　'Tomorrow　would　be　good。'
　'I'm　not　finished　with　the　lecture　series　here；'　I　said。
　'Ain't　a　place　in　the　world　that　don't　want　you　to　lecture。　You　could　probably　do　that　and　nothing　else；'　he　said；　and　I　knew　he　was　about　to　dig　into　me。
　'We　export　our　violence　to　other　countries；'　I　said。　'The　least　we　can　do　is　teach　them　what　we　know；　what　we've　learned　from　years　of　working　these　crimes　。　。　。'
　'Lectures　ain't　why　you're　staying　in　the　land　of　leprechauns；　Doc；'　he　interrupted　as　a　flip…top　popped。　'It　ain't　why；　and　you　know　it。'
　'Marino；'　I　warned。　'Don't　do　this。'
　But　he　kept　on。　'Ever　since　Wesley's　divorce；　you've　found　one　reason　or　another　to　skip　along　the　Yellow　Brick　Road；　right　on　out　of　town。　And　you　don't　want　to　e　home　now；　I　can　tell　from　the　way　you　sound；　because　you　don't　want　to　deal；　take　a　look　at　your　hand　and　take　your　chances。　Let　me　tell　you。　es　a　time　when　you　got　to　call　or　fold　。　。　。'
　'Point　taken。'　I　was　gentle　as　I　cut　off　his　besotted　good　intentions。　'Marino；　don't　stay　up　all　night。'
　
　The　Coroner's　Office　was　at　No。　3　Store　Street；　across　from　the　Custom　House　and　central　bus　station；　near　docks　and　the　river　Liffey。　The　brick　building　was　small　and　old；　the　alleyway　leading　to　the　back　barred　by　a　heavy　black　gate　with　MORGUE　painted　across　it　in　bold　white　letters。　Climbing　steps　to　the　Georgian　entrance；　I　rang　the　bell　and　waited　in　mist。
　It　was　cool　this　Tuesday　morning；　trees　beginning　to　look　like　fall。　I　could　feel　my　lack　of　sleep。　My　eyes　burned；　my　head　was　dull；　and　I　was　unsettled　by　what　Marino　had　said　before　I　had　almost　hung　up　on　him。
　'Hello。'　The　administrator　cheerfully　let　me　in。　'How　are　we　this　morning；　Dr　Scarpetta？'
　His　name　was　Jimmy　Shaw；　and　he　was　very　young　and　Irish；　with　hair　as　fiery　as　copper　ivy；　and　eyes　as　blue　as　sky。
　'I've　been　better；'　I　confessed。
　'Well；　I　was　just　boiling　tea；'　he　said；　shutting　us　inside　a　narrow；　dimly　lit　hallway；　which　we　followed　to　his　office。　'Sounds　like　you　could　use　a　cup。'
　'That　would　be　lovely；　Jimmy；'　I　said。
　'As　for　the　good　doctor；　she　should　be　finishing　up　an　inquest。'　He　glanced　at　his　watch　as　we　entered　his　cluttered　small　space。　'She　should　be　out　in　no　time。'
　His　desk　was　dominated　by　a　large　Coroner's　Inquiries　book；　black　and　bound　in　heavy　leather；　and　he　had　been　reading　a　biography　of　Steve　McQueen　and　eating　toast　before　I　arrived。　Momentarily；　he　was　setting　a　mug