“White-collar crime, stalking, identity theft,” Berger added. “I can’t tell you my aggravation.”

“What about the account information for Scarpetta six-twelve?” Marino was asking Lucy, as if nothing dysfunctional had ever gone on between them.

He was just more guarded, which made him somewhat polite, for once.

“Anything more than the generic they gave me?” he asked.

“Name’s listed as Dr. Kay Scarpetta. Address and phone number are her office in Watertown. All public information,” Lucy said. “No profile, no options that would have required the person who set up the account to use a credit card.”

“Same thing as Terri’s accounts.” Berger’s voice.

“Same thing with a million accounts,” Lucy said. “I’m in Scarpetta six-twelve right now, and the only e-mails sent or received were to and from Terri Bridges.”

“Don’t you think that might hint it was Terri who opened that account to make it look as if Kay were writing to her?” Berger suggested.

“What about the MAC, the machine access code?” Benton asked.

Lucy said, as she scrolled through e-mails, “Doesn’t match either of these laptops, but all that means is Terri or someone didn’t carry one of these laptops to John Jay and send the e-mails from that network. But you’re right. The sole purpose of Scarpetta six-twelve seems to be for an imposter to correspond with Terri Bridges, which would have added credence to the theory that the imposter and Terri were the same person, were it not for one thing.”

The one thing she was talking about was on her screen.

“I’m talking as I’m going through the Scarpetta six-twelve account,” she said. “And this is something that’s really important. Really, really important.”

So important, Lucy almost couldn’t believe it.

She said, “At eight-eighteen last night, Scarpetta six-twelve wrote an e-mail that was saved as a draft and never sent. I’m forwarding it to all of you, and I’m going to read it out loud to you in a sec. This rules out Terri or Oscar writing it. Do you hear what I’m saying? This e-mail I’m talking about rules out either one of them being Scarpetta six-twelve.”

“Shit.” Marino’s voice. “Someone wrote an e-mail while this place was crawling with cops? Fact is, her body was probably already at the morgue by then.”

“Her body arrived at the morgue at around eight, as I recall,” Scarpetta said.

“So someone writes an e-mail to Terri and decides not to send it for some reason.” Lucy tried to work it out. “As in maybe the person somehow found out Terri was dead right while in the middle of writing to her? And then just saved the e-mail as a draft?”