Before Roy Patterson had run for Commonwealth Attorney, he had been one of the city’s more combative, egotistical criminal lawyers. Back then he had never appreciated what I had to say; since in the majority of cases, medical examiner testimony does not cause jurors to think more kindly of the defendant.

“I ever told you how much Patterson hates your guts?”

Marino went on. “You embarrassed him when he was a defense attorney. You sat there cool as a cat in your sharp suits and made him look like an idiot.”

“He made himself look like an idiot. All I did was answer his questions:” “Not to mention, your old boyfriend Bill Boltz was one of his closest pals, and I don’t eves need to go into that.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I just know Patterson’s going to go after you. Shit, I bet he’s a happy man right now.”

“Marino, you’re red as a beet. For God’s sake, don’t go stroking out on me.”

“Let’s get back to this scarf you said you gave to Susan:” “I said I gave to Susan?”

“What was the name of the store in San francisco that sold it to you?” he asked.

“It wasn’t a store.” He glanced sharply at the as he continued to pace.

“It was a street market. Lots of booths and stalls selling art, handmade things. Like Covent Garden,” I explained.

“You got a receipt?”

“I would have had no reason to save it.”

“So you don’t know the name of the booth or whatever. So there’s no way to verify that you bought a scarf from some artist type who uses these glassy black envelopes.”

“I can’t verify it.”

“He paced some more and I stared out the window. Clouds drifted past oblong and the dark shapes of trees moved in the wind: I got up to close the blinds.

Marino stopped pacing. “Doc, I’m going to need to go through your financial records.”

I did not say anything.

“I’ve got to verify that you haven’t made any large withdrawals of cash in recent Months.”

I remained silent.

“Doc, you haven’t; have you?”

I got up from the table, my pulse pounding.

“You can talk to my attorney,” I said.

After Marino left, I went upstairs to the cedar closet where I stored my private papers and began collecting bank statements, tax returns; and various accounting records. I thought of all the defense attorneys in Richmond who would probably be delighted if I were locked up or exiled for the rest of my days. I was sitting in the kitchen making notes on a legal pad when my doorbell rang: I let Benton Wesley and Lucy in, and I knew instantly by their silence that it was unnecessary to tell them what was going on.

“Where’s Connie?” I asked wearily.

“She`s hoping to stay through the New Year with her family in Charlottesville.”

“I’m going back to your study, Aunt Kay;’ Lucy said without hugging me or smiling. She left with her suitcase.