“If I get permission, then yes. Border Patrol has them. That’s usually what we use. I can probably get one in from D.C.”

“Good,” I said. “Get it as fast as you can. In the morning I’m hitting the labs to confirm what I think I already know. Then we may be going to New York.”

“Why?”

She looked interested but skeptical.

“We’re going to land at Kirby and I intend to get to the bottom of things,” I answered her.

Marino called again at close to ten, and I reassured him one more time that Lucy and I were as fine as could be expected, and that we felt safe inside my house, with its sophisticated alarm system, lighting, and guns. He sounded bleary and thick, and I could tell he had been drinking, his TV turned up loud.

“I need you to meet me at the lab at eight,” I said.

“I know, I know.”

“It’s very important, Marino.”

“It’s not like you need to tell me that, Doc.”

“Get some sleep,” I said.

“Ditto.”

But I couldn’t. I sat at my desk in my study, going through the suspicious fire deaths from ESA. I studied the Venice Beach death, and then the one from Baltimore, struggling to see what, if anything, the cases and victims had in common besides the point of origin and the fact that although arson was suspected, investigators could find no evidence of it. I called the Baltimore police department first, and found someone in the detective division who seemed amenable to talking.

“Johnny Montgomery worked that one,” the detective said, and I could hear him smoking.

“Do you know anything about it?” I asked.

“Best you talk to him. And he probably will need some way of knowing you’re who you say you are.”

“He can call me at my office in the morning for verification.” I gave him the number. “I should be no later than eight. What about e-mail? Does Investigator Montgomery have an address I could send a note to?”

“Now that I can give you.”

I heard him open a drawer, and then he gave me what I needed.

“Seems I’ve heard of you before,” the detective thoughtfully said. “If you’re the ME I’m thinking of. I know it’s a lady. A good-looking one, too, based on what I’ve seen on TV. Hmmm. You ever get up to Baltimore?”

“I went to medical school in your fair city.”

“Well, now I know you’re smart.”

“Austin Hart, the young man who died in the fire, was also a student at Johns Hopkins.” I prodded him.

“He was also a homo. I personally think it was a hate crime.”

“What I need is a photograph of him and anything about his life, his habits, his hobbies.” I took advantage of the detective’s momentary lapse.