He flicked the cigarette into the mud and a crab went after it.

He said, ‘Jayne’s dead, isn’t she? You’re a coroner and that’s why you’re here.’

‘Yes, Mr. Gault. I’m so sorry.’

‘I had a feeling when you told me who you are. My little girl’s that lady they think Temple murdered in Central Park.’

‘That’s why I’m here,’ I said. ‘But I need your help if I’m going to prove she is your daughter.’

He looked me in the eye, and I sensed bone-weary relief. He drew himself up and I felt his pride. ‘Ma’am, I don’t want her in some godforsaken pauper’s grave. I want her here with Rachael and me. For once she can live with us because it’s too late for him to hurt her.’

We walked along the pier.

‘I can make certain that happens,’ I said as wind flattened the grass and tore through our hair. ‘All I need is your blood.’

18

Kay Scarpetta 6 - From Potter’s Field

18

Before we went inside his house, Mr. Gault warned me that his wife did not have good coping skills. He explained as delicately as he could that Rachael Gault had never faced the reality of her offsprings’ blighted destinies.

‘It’s not that she’s going to pitch a fit,’ he explained in a soft voice as we climbed the porch steps. ‘She just won’t accept it, if you know what I mean.’

‘You may want to look at the pictures out here,’ I said.

‘Of Jayne.’ He got very tired again.

‘Of her and of footprints.’

‘Footprints?’ He ran callused fingers through his hair.

‘Do you remember her owning a pair of army jungle boots?’ I then asked.

‘No.’ He slowly shook his head. ‘But Luther had all kinds of things like that.’

‘Do you know what size shoe he wore?’

‘His foot was smaller than mine. I guess he wore a seven and a half or an eight.’

‘Did he ever give a pair of his boots to Temple?’

‘Huh,’ he said shortly. ‘The only way Luther would have given that boy boots would be if Luther still had ‘em on and was kicking Temple’s butt.’

‘The boots could have belonged to Jayne.’

‘Oh sure. She and Luther probably wore close to the same size. She was a big girl. In fact, she was about the size of Temple. And I always suspected that was part of his problem.’

Mr. Gault would have stood out in prevailing winds and talked all day. He did not want me opening my briefcase because he knew what was inside.

‘We don’t have to do this. You don’t have to look at anything,’ I said. ‘We can use DNA.’

‘If it’s all the same to you,’ he said, eyes bright as he reached for the door. ‘I guess I’d better tell Rachael.’