“I didn’t know what might happen by the time you got here,” he said. “Maybe the cops would have found something, arrested him, and we probably wouldn’t be having this conversation. But you’re right. At the moment, your priority has to be Oscar’s well-being. You’re his physician. But that doesn’t mean you have to see him again.”

Inside one envelope was a DNA report, and inside the other, a set of crime scene photographs.

“Berger wanted you to have a copy of the DNA analysis. The photographs and police report are from Mike Morales,” Benton said.

“Do I know him?”

“He’s relatively new to the detective division. You don’t know him, maybe won’t have to. Candidly speaking, I think he’s a jerk. Photos he took at the crime scene, his preliminary report. The DNA’s from swabs Dr. Lester took from Terri Bridges’s body. There’s a second set of photos I haven’t gotten yet. From a second search earlier this afternoon when luggage in her closet was checked, and it turned out Terri’s laptops were in it. Apparently, she was supposed to fly to Arizona this morning to spend a few days with her family. Why her luggage was packed and out of sight in her closet, no one knows.”

Scarpetta thought about what Oscar had told her. Terri didn’t leave luggage out. She was obsessively neat, and Oscar didn’t like good-byes.

Benton said, “One possible explanation is she was extremely neat. Perhaps obsessively so. You’ll see what I mean in the photos.”

“I’d say that’s a very plausible explanation,” she commented.

He held her gaze. He was trying to determine if she’d just given him information. She didn’t break their eye contact or the silence. He retrieved a number from his cell phone contact list and reached for the landline. He asked Berger if she could send someone by to pick up evidence Scarpetta had collected from Oscar Bane.

He listened for a moment, then looked up at Scarpetta and said to Berger, “I completely agree. Since he can leave whenever he wants, and you know how I feel about that. And no, I haven’t had a chance … Well, she’s right here. Why don’t you ask her?”

Benton moved the handset to the middle of the desk and held out the receiver to Scarpetta.

“Thanks for doing this,” Jaime Berger said, and Scarpetta tried to remember the last time they’d talked.

Five years ago.

“How was he?” Berger asked.

“Extremely cooperative.”

“Do you think he’ll stay put?”

“I think I’m in an awkward position.” Scarpetta’s way of saying she couldn’t talk about her patient.

“I understand.”

“All I can comfortably tell you,” Scarpetta said, “is if you can get his DNA analyzed quickly, that would be a good thing. There’s no downside to that.”