“Then we can conclude the cotton and wood fibers in the material on the chair cushion are there for another reason, perhaps transferred by the ointment, which presents a challenge as it’s nonconductive. That requires us to use variable pressure, which maintains the high vacuum in the gun needed to create the electron beam as the rest of the chamber is backfilled with dry filtered air. And we have reduced the scattering of the electron beam by minimizing the working distance. I suppose I am making excuses. The ointment is difficult to image because the electron beam actually melts it, I’m afraid. It will be better when it dries.”

“Silver nitrate applicators for cauterizing skin, possibly? That’s what comes to my mind right away,” she said. “Which might explain the presence of blood, sweat, skin cells. And a mixture of different DNA profiles if we’re talking about a communal jar of a healing ointment. If we’re talking about a source being, perhaps, a medical office? For example, a dermatologist?”

“I won’t ask about your suspects,” Dr. Kiselstein said.

“Anything else interesting about the chair?”

“The frame is iron with trace elements of gold in the paint. There was no one sitting in it when we placed it in the chamber. Suspects and punishment aren’t my department.” They hung up.

Scarpetta tried Dr. Elizabeth Stuart’s numbers and got voicemail. She didn’t leave a message and stayed on the sofa, thinking.

She believed she was dealing with Marino just fine until she decided to call him and realized she didn’t have his cell phone number. So she called Berger, and the way the prosecutor answered, it was as if she knew who it was and that the call was personal.

“It’s Kay.”

“Oh,” Berger’s voice. “It said restricted. I wasn’t sure.”

When Lucy called, it came up as restricted. Scarpetta had a feeling something was going on with them that wasn’t good. Lucy had been very subdued during the meeting. Scarpetta hadn’t tried to call her, was assuming she was still with Berger. Maybe not.

Berger said, “Morales called a few minutes ago, said he’s getting your voicemail.”

“I’ve been on my phone, with Y-Twelve. I’m not going to be able to head to the morgue right this minute.”

She gave Berger a quick summary.

“Then that’s a common denominator,” Berger decided. “The dermatologist. Terri went to her. And you said Oscar does. Or did.”