“I haven’t met Shandy,” Scarpetta says from a wing chair near a window that offers a view of the lighted old city.

“Not in person, you mean,” Dr. Self says. “But I believe you’ve seen her. Her exclusive tour of your morgue. I think back to those unhappy days in court, Kay, and I wonder how different all of it would have been if the world had known what you’re really like. That you give tours of the morgue and turn dead bodies into spectacles. Especially the little boy you skinned and filleted. Why did you cut out his eyes? How many injuries did you need to document before you decided what killed him? His eyes? Really, Kay.”

“Who told you about the tour?”

“Shandy bragged about it. Imagine what a jury would say. Imagine what the jury in Florida would have said had they known what you’re like.”

“Their verdict didn’t hurt you,” Scarpetta says. “Nothing’s hurt you the way you manage to hurt everybody else. Did you hear that your friend Karen killed herself barely twenty-four hours after she left McLean?”

Dr. Self’s face brightens. “Then her sad story will have a fitting finale.” She meets Scarpetta’s eyes. “Don’t think I’m going to pretend. What would upset me is if you told me Karen was back in rehab drying out again. The mass of men living lives of quiet desperation. Thoreau. Benton’s part of the world. Yet you live down here. How will you manage when you’re married?” Her eyes find the ring on Scarpetta’s left hand. “Or will you go through with it? The two of you aren’t much into commitments. Well, Benton is. A different sort of commitment he deals with up there. His little experiment was a treat, and I can’t wait to talk about it.”

“The lawsuit in Florida didn’t take anything from you except money that probably was covered by your malpractice insurance. Those premiums must be high. They should be extremely high. I’m surprised any insurance company would carry you,” Scarpetta says.

“I’ve got to pack. Back to New York, back on the air. Did I tell you? A brand-new show all about the criminal mind. Don’t worry. I don’t want you on it.”

“Shandy probably killed her son,” Scarpetta says. “I wonder what you’re going to do about that.”

“I avoided her for as long as I could,” Dr. Self says. “A situation very similar to yours, Kay. I knew of her. Why do people entangle themselves in the tentacles of someone poisonous? I hear myself talk, and every comment suggests a show. It’s exhausting and exhilarating when you realize you’ll never run out of shows. Marino should have known better. He’s so simple. Have you heard from him?”

“You were the beginning and the end,” Scarpetta says. “Why couldn’t you leave him alone?”