“Said when he arrived at the building, all the lights were out. He unlocked the outer door. Then he rang her apartment bell, and the door swung open and he was attacked by an intruder. Who quickly fled. Oscar locked the front door, turned on the lights, looked around, and found her body in the bathroom. He said there was no ligature around her neck, but he saw a reddish mark.”

“And he knew she was dead, yet waited to call the police. Because? What was his reason, in your opinion?” Scarpetta asked.

“He had no concept of time. He was beside himself. Who knows what’s true? But no probable cause for arrest. Doesn’t mean the cops weren’t more than happy to grant his request and lock him up. Doesn’t help he’s a muscle-bound dwarf who for the most part lives and works in cyberspace.”

“You know about his profession. What else?”

“We know everything about him except what he chooses not to tell us. How about you?” Maiming the paper clip. “Any thoughts?”

“I can speak theoretically.”

He gave her silence so she would fill it.

“I’ve had numerous cases when the police weren’t called right away,” she said. “When the killer needed time to stage the crime scene to look like something else. Or whoever found the body attempted to cover up what really happened. Embarrassment, shame, life insurance. Asphyxiophilia, for example—sexual hanging that turns tragic and the person dies of asphyxiation. Usually accidental. Mother walks in, sees her son in black leather, a mask, chains, nipple clips. Maybe cross-dressing. He’s hanging from a rafter, pornography everywhere. She doesn’t want the world to remember her son like that and doesn’t call for help until she’s gotten rid of the evidence.”

“Another theory?”

“The person’s so bereft, so unwilling to let his loved one go, he spends time with the body, stroking it, holding it, covering it if it’s nude, removing restraints. Restoring his person to the way she was, as if somehow that will bring her back.”

“Rather much what he did, isn’t it,” Benton said.

“I had a case where the husband found his wife dead in bed, an overdose. He climbed in next to her, held her, didn’t call the police until rigor was fully developed and she was cold.”

Benton looked at her for a long moment and said, “Remorse in domestic cases. Husband kills wife. Child kills mother. Overwhelming remorse, grief, panic. Doesn’t call the police right away. Holds the body, strokes it, talks to it, cries. Something precious that’s broken and can’t be fixed. Forever changed, forever gone.”

“A type of behavior more typical with impulse crimes,” she said. “Not premeditated ones. This murder doesn’t seem impulsive. When an offender brings his own weapon, his own bindings, like duct tape or flex-cuffs, that’s premeditated.”