“Coffee would be good.”

He sat on the edge of the hearth and got out his Swiss Army knee. While I made coffee, he trimmed his nails and tossed the shavings into the fire. I tried Susan’s number again, but there was no answer.

“I don’t think Susan took his prints,” Marino said when I set the coffee tray on the butler’s table.”

I’ve been thinking while you were in the kitchen. I know she didn’t do it while I was at the morgue that night, and I was there most of the time. So unless it was done right when the body was brought in, forget it.”

“It wasn’t done then,” I said, getting more unnerved. “Corrections was out of there in minutes. The entire scene was very distracting. It was late and everybody was tired. Susan forgot, and I was too busy with what I was doing to notice.”

“You hope she forgot.”

I reached for my coffee.

“Something’s going on with her, based on what you’ve been telling me. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her,” he said.

Right now I didn’t.

“We need to talk to Benton,” he said.

“You saw Waddell on the table, Marino. You saw him executed. I can’t believe we can’t say it was him.”

“We can’t say it. We could compare mug shots and your morgue photos and still not say it. I hadn’t seen him since he got popped more than ten years ago. The guy they walked out to the chair was about eighty pounds heavier. His beard, mustache, and head had been shaved. Sure, there was enough resemblance that I just assumed. But I can’t swear it was him.”

I recalled Lucy’s walking off the plane the other night. She was my niece. I had seen her but a year ago, and still I almost had not recognized her. I knew all too well how unreliable visual identifications can be.

“If someone switched inmates,” I said. “And if Waddell is free and someone else was put to death, please tell me why.”

Marino spooned more sugar into his coffee.

“A motive, for God’s sake. Marino, what would it be?”

He looked up. “I don’t know why.”

Just then, the door to my study opened and both of us turned as Lucy walked out. She came into the living room and sat on the side of the hearth opposite Marino, who had his back to the fire, elbows on his knees.

“What can you tell me about AFIS?” she asked me as if Marino were not in the room.

“What is it you wish to know?” I said.

“The language. And is it run on a mainframe.”

“I don’t know the technical details. Why?”

“I can find out if files have been altered.”

I felt Marino’s eyes on me.

“You can’t break into the State Police computer, Lucy.”

“I probably could, but I’m not necessarily advocating that. There may be some other way to gain access.”