“I need to know everything about her that you can tell me,” I said to him with feeling. “Anything about where she was from, her family. Anything that might help me identify the body or rule Claire Rawley out. Of course, I will contact the university, as well.”

“I’ve got to tell you the sad truth, Dr. Scarpetta,” he said to me. “I never knew anything about her, really. Our relationship was mainly sexual, with me helping her out with money and her problems as best I could. I did care about her.” He paused. “But it was never serious, at least not on my side. I mean, marriage was never in the offing.”

He did not need to further explain. Sparkes had power. He exuded it and had always enjoyed almost any woman he wanted. But I felt no judgment now.

“I’m sorry,” he said, getting up. “I can only tell you that she was rather much a failed artist. A want-to-be actor who spent most of her time surfing or wandering the beach. And after I’d been around her for a while, I began to see that something wasn’t right about her. The way she seemed so lacking in motivation, and would act so erratic and glazed sometimes.”

“Did she abuse alcohol?” I asked.

“Not chronically. It has too many calories.”

“Drugs?”

“That’s what I began to suspect, and it was something I could have no association with. I don’t know.”

“I need for you to spell her name for me,” I said.

“Before you go walking off,” Marino jumped in, and I recognized the bad-cop edge to his tone, “you sure this couldn’t be some sort of a murder-suicide? Only she kills everything you own and goes up in flames along with it? You sure there’s no reason she might have done that, Mr. Sparkes?”

“At this point, I can’t be sure of anything,” Sparkes answered him as he paused near the barn’s open door.

Marino got up, too.

“Well, this ain’t adding up, no disrespect intended,” Marino said. “And I do need to see any receipts you have for your London trip. And for Dulles airport. And I know ATF’s hot to know about your basement full of bourbon and automatic weapons.”

“I collect World War II weapons, and all of them are registered and legal,” he said with restraint. “I bought the bourbon from a Kentucky distillery that went out of business five years ago. They shouldn’t have sold it to me and I shouldn’t have bought it. But so be it.”

“I think ATF’s got bigger fish to fry than your barrels of bourbon,” Marino said. “So if you got any of those receipts with you now, I’d appreciate your handing them over to me.”

“Will you strip search me next, Captain?” Sparkes fixed hard eyes on him.