“You didn’t find out anything from me.”

“I found out from somebody. She’ll demand I tell her.”

“You found out nothing from me. In fact, you’re the one who said it. And I haven’t verified it.”

“May we discuss it hypothetically?”

Dr. Maroni drinks his wine. “I prefer the Barbaresco we had last time.”

“You would. It was three hundred euros.”

“Full-bodied but very fresh.”

“The wine? Or the woman you were with last night?”

For a man his age who eats and drinks whatever he pleases, Dr. Maroni looks good and is never without a woman. They offer themselves to him as if he is the god Priapus, and he’s faithful to no one. Usually, he leaves his wife in Massachusetts when he comes to Rome. She doesn’t seem to mind. She’s well taken care of, and he isn’t demanding about his sexual desires because she no longer meets them and he no longer is in love with her. This is a destiny the captain refuses to accept. He’s romantic, and he wonders about Scarpetta again. She doesn’t need to be taken care of and wouldn’t permit it. Her presence in his thoughts is like the light of the candles on the tables and the lights of the city beyond the window. He is moved by her.

“I can contact her at the hospital. But she’ll demand to know how I found out about her being there,” the captain says.

“The VIP, you mean.” Dr. Maroni dips a mother-of- pearl spoon into the caviar, scoops out enough for two blini. He spreads the caviar over one and eats it. “You mustn’t contact anyone at the hospital.”

“What if Benton Wesley’s my source? He was just here and is involved in the investigation. And now she’s his patient. It irritates me we talked about Dr. Self the other night and he didn’t divulge she’s his patient.”

“You mean the VIP. Benton isn’t a psychiatrist, and the VIP technically isn’t his patient. Technically, the VIP is my patient.”

The captain pauses as the waiter appears with the primi piatti. Risotto with mushrooms and Parmesan. Basil-flavored minestrone with quad-rucci pasta.

“Anyway, Benton would never divulge a confidence like that. You may as well ask a stone,” Dr. Maroni says when the waiter is gone. “My guess is the VIP will be gone soon. Where she goes will be the important question for you. Where she’s been is important only because of motive.”

“Dr. Self’s show is filmed in New York.”

“VIPs can go where they please. If you find out where she is and why, you might discover where she would go next. A more likely source would be Lucy Farinelli.”

“Lucy Farinelli?” The captain is baffled.

“Dr. Scarpetta’s niece. As it happens, I’m doing her a favor, and she comes to the hospital fairly often. So she could hear rumors from the staff.”

“And what? She told Kay, who next told me?”

“Kay?” Dr. Maroni eats. “Then you are on friendly terms with her?”