cpatricia.unnaturalexposure-第28章
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'This isn't where it happened；' I said as my heart beat harder。
Lucy was silent。
'She was brought in here after the fact to be photographed。 This is not where the killing and dismemberment took place。'
'What are you seeing？' she asked。
I moved my hand and walked closer to the virtual table。 I pointed at the virtual walls； to show Lucy what I saw。 'Where did he plug in the autopsy saw？' I said。
I could find but one electrical outlet； and it was at the base of a wall。
'And the drop cloth is from here； too？' I went on。 'It doesn't fit with everything else。 No paint； no tools。' I kept looking around。 'And look at the floor。 The wood's lighter at the border as if there once was a rug。 Who puts rugs in workshops？ Who has wallpaper and drapes？ Where are the outlets for power tools？'
'What do you feel？' she asked。
'I feel this is a room in someone's house where the furniture has been removed。 Except there is some sort of table； which has been covered with something。 Maybe a shower curtain。 I don't know。 The room feels domestic。'
I reached out my hand and tried to touch the edge of the table cover； as if I could lift it and reveal what was underneath； and as I looked around； details became so clear to me； I wondered how I could have missed them before。 Wiring was exposed in the ceiling directly above the table； as if a chandelier or other type of light fixture had once hung there。
'What about my color perception right now？' I asked。
'Should be the same。'
'Then there's something else。 These walls。' I touched them。 'The color lightens in this direction。 There's an opening。 Maybe a doorway； with light ing through it。'
'There's no doorway in the photo。' Lucy reminded me。 'You can only see what's there。'
It was odd； but for a moment I thought I could smell her blood； the pungency of old flesh that has been dead for days。 I remembered the doughy texture of her skin； and the peculiar eruptions that made me wonder if she had shingles。
'She wasn't random；' I said。
'And the others were。'
'The other cases are nothing like this one。 I'm getting double imagery。 Can you adjust that？'
'Vertical retinal image disparity。'
Then I felt her hand on my arm。
'Usually goes away after fifteen or twenty minutes；' she said。 'It's time to take a break。'
'I don't feel too good。'
'Image rotation misalignment。 Visual fatigue； simulation sickness； cybersick； whatever you want to call it；' she said。 'Causing image blurring； tears； even queasiness。'
I couldn't wait to remove the helmet and I was on the table again； facedown in blood before I could get the LCDs away from my eyes。
My hands were shaking as Lucy helped me take off the glove。 I sat down on the floor。
'Are you all right？' she asked； kindly。
'That was awful；' I said。
'Then it was good。' She returned the helmet and glove to a counter。 'You were immersed in the environment。 That's what should happen。'
She handed me several tissues； and I wiped my face。
'What about the other photograph？ Do you want to do that one； too？' she asked。 'The one with the hands and feet？'
'I've been in that room quite enough；' I said。
8
I DROVE HOME haunted。 I had been going to crime scenes most of my professional life； but had never had one e to me。 The sensation of being inside that photograph； of imagining I could smell and feel what was left of that body； had shaken me badly。 It was almost midnight by the time I pulled into my garage； and I couldn't unlock my door fast enough。 Inside my house； I turned the alarm off； then back on the instant I shut and locked the door。 I looked around to make sure nothing was out of place。
Lighting a fire； I fixed a drink and missed cigarettes again。 I turned on music to keep me pany； then went inside my office to see what might await me there。 I had various faxes and phone messages； and another munication in e…mail。 This time； all deadoc had for me was to repeat； you think you re so smart。 I was printing this and wondering if Squad 19 had seen it； too； when the telephone rang； startling me。
'Hi；' Wesley said。 'Just making sure you got in okay。'
'There's more mail；' I said； and I told him what it was。
'Save it and go to bed。'
'It's hard not to think about。'
'He wants you to stay up all night thinking。 That's his power。 That's his game。'
'Why me？' I was out of sorts and still felt queasy。
'Because you're the challenge； Kay。 Even for nice people like me。 Go to sleep。 We'll talk tomorrow。 I love you。'
But I did not get to sleep long。 At several minutes past four A。M。； my phone rang again。 It was Dr Hoyt this time； a family practitioner in Norfolk； where he had served as a state…appointed medical examiner for the last twenty years。 He was pushing seventy； but spry and as lucid as new glass。 I'd never known him to be alarmed by anything； and I was instantly unnerved by his tone。
'Dr Scarpetta； I'm sorry；' he said； and he was talking very fast。 'I'm on Tangier Island。'
All I could think of； oddly； were crab cakes。 'What in the world are you doing there？'
I arranged pillows behind me； reaching for call sheets and pen。
'I got called late yesterday； been out here half the night。 The Coast Guard had to bring me in one of their cutters； and I don't like boats worth a damn； beaten and whipped around worse than eggs。 Plus it was cold as hell。'
I had no idea what he was talking about。
'The last time I saw anything like this was Texas； 1949；' he went on； talking fast； 'when I was doing my residency and about to get married 。 。 。'
I had to cut him off。 'Slow down； Fred；' I said。 'Tell me what's happened。'
'A fifty…two…year…old Tangier lady。 Probably been dead at least twenty…four hours in her bedroom。 She's got severe skin eruptions in crops； just covered with them； including the palms of her hands and the bottoms of her feet。 Crazy as it sounds； it looks like smallpox。'
'You're right。 That's crazy；' I said as my mouth got dry。 'What about chicken pox？ Any way this woman was immunosuppressed？'
'I don't know anything about her； but I've never seen chicken pox look like this。 These eruptions follow the small…pox pattern。 They're in crops； like I said； all about the same age； and the farther away from the center of the body； the denser they get。 So they're confluent； on the face； the extremities。'
I was thinking of the torso； of the small area of eruptions that I had assumed were shingles； my heart filled with dread。 I did not know where that victim had died； but I believed it was somewhere in Virginia。 Tangier Island was also in Virginia； a tiny barrier island in the Chesapeake Bay where the economy was based on crabbing。
'There are a lot of strange viruses out there these days；' he was saying。
'Yes； there are；' I agreed。 'But Hanta； Ebola； HIV； dengue； et al。； do not cause the symptoms you have described。 That doesn't mean there isn't something else we don't know about。'
'I know smallpox。 I'm old enough to have seen it with my own two eyes。 But I'm not an expert in infectious diseases； Kay。 And I sure as hell don't know the things that you do。 But whatever it might be in this case； the fact is； the woman's dead and some type of poxvirus killed her。'
'Obviously； she lived alone。'
'Yes。'
'And she was last seen alive when？'
'The chief's working on that。'
'What chief？' I said。
'The Tangier police department has one officer。 He's the chief。 I'm in his trailer now； using the phone。'
'He's not overhearing this。'
'No； no。 He's out talking to neighbors。 I did my best to get information； without a whole lot of luck。 You ever been out here？'
'No； I haven't。'
'Let's just say they don't exactly rotate their crops。 There are maybe three family names on the whole island。 Most folks grow up here； never leave。 It's mighty hard to understand a word they're saying。 Now that's a dialect you won't hear in any other corner of the world。'
'Nobody touches her until I have a better idea what we're dealing with；' I said； unbuttoning my pajamas。
'What do you want me to do？' he asked。
'Get the police chief to guard the house。 No one goes in or near it until I say。 Go home。 I'll call you later in the day。'
The labs had not pleted mic
