The fax machine was located in my computer analyst’s office, and Margaret, fortunately, had begun her holiday early, too. I shut her door and sat down at her desk, thinking as the minicomputer hummed and modem lights blinked. Labels worked both ways. If I began a transmission, the label for my office was going to appear in the character-display window of the fax machine I had dialed. I would have to kill the process fast, before the transmission was completed. I hoped that by the time anyone checked the machine to see what was going on, “Office of the Chief Medical Examiner” and our number would have vanished from the window.

Inserting a blank sheet of paper into the tray, I dialed the Washington number and waited as the transmission began. Nothing materialized in the character-display window. Damn. The fax machine I had dialed did not have a label So much for that I killed the process and returned to my office, defeated.

I had just sat down at my desk when the telephone rang.

“Dr. Scarpetta, “I answered.

“Nicholas Grueman here. Whatever you just tried to fax, it didn’t transmit.”

“Excuse me?”

I said, stunned.

“I got nothing on this end but a blank sheet of paper with the name of your office stamped on it. Uh, error code zero-zero- one, ‘please send again; it says.”

“I see,” I said as the hairs on my arms raised.

“Perhaps you were trying to send an amendment to your record? I understand you took a look at the electric chair.”

I did not reply.

“Very thorough of you, Dr. Scarpetta. Perhaps you learned something new about those injuries we discussed, the abrasions to the inner aspects of Mr. Waddell’s arms? The antecubitalfossas?”

“Please give me your fax number again,” I said quietly.

He recited it for me. The number matched the one on my list.

“Is the fax machine in your office or do you share it with other attorneys, Mr. Grueman?”

“It’s right next to my desk. No need to mark anything for my attention. Just send it on - and do put a rush on it please, Dr. Scarpetta. I was thinking of going home soon.”

I left the office a little later, frustration having driven me out the door. I could not get Marino. There was nothing more I could do. I felt caught in a web of bizarre connections, clueless as to the point in common they shared.