The Internet service provider address was the same as that of the eighteen accounts that were assumed to be Terri’s, but Scarpetta612 wasn’t listed in the history. It hadn’t been created on this laptop, nor was that account accessed by this laptop or—based on the dates of the e-mails Lucy was already seeing—Scarpetta612 would be listed in the history along with the other eighteen accounts.

It would be in the history if Terri had created Scarpetta612. But there was no evidence she had, not so far.

“Scarpetta six-twelve,” Lucy said, scrolling through text. “Someone with that username was writing to her—to Terri, I’m presuming. Can you get Jaime and Marino so we can get the password to that account?”

“Anybody could come up with some permutation of my name, and my date of birth is no big secret, if anybody cares,” her aunt said.

“Just give Jaime the username. Scarpetta appended to the numbers six one two.”

Lucy gave her the e-mail service provider and waited. She could hear Scarpetta talking to someone. It sounded like Marino.

Then Scarpetta said to Lucy, “It’s being taken care of.”

“Like right now,” Lucy said.

“Yes, right now. I was asking if either of the laptops you have might use a magnetized power supply.”

“No,” Lucy said. “USB, recessed five pin port, eighty-five- watt. What you’re talking about wouldn’t be recognized by Terri’s laptops. The IP for Scarpetta six-twelve traces to eight-ninety- nine Tenth Avenue. Isn’t that John Jay College of Criminal Justice?”

“What IP? And yes. What’s John Jay got to do with anything? Jaime and Marino are still here. They want to listen to what you’re saying. I’m putting you on speakerphone. What’s Benton doing?” she asked them.

Lucy could hear Berger’s voice in the background say something about Benton being on the phone with Morales. It bothered Lucy to hear Berger say anything about Morales, and she wasn’t sure why unless it was her sense that he was interested in Berger, that he wanted her sexually, and maybe it seemed he had a way of getting what he wanted.

“Whoever was writing to Terri and saying she was you was doing so from that IP address, from John Jay,” Lucy said.

She continued going through deleted e-mails sent by someone who was clearly impersonating her aunt.

“I’m going to forward some of these,” she said. “Everybody should look at them, then I need the password, okay? This most recent one was sent by Scarpetta six-twelve to Terri four days ago, December twenty-eighth, at close to midnight. The day after Bhutto was assassinated, and you talked about it on CNN, Aunt Kay. You were here in New York.”

“I was, but that’s not me. That’s not my e-mail address,” Scarpetta insisted.

The e-mail read:

Date: Fri, 28 December 2007 23:53:01

From: “Scarpetta”

To: “Terri”

Terri,