“Anybody witness him lifting the prints off the light fixture?” Bacardi went on. “It’s not easy to cheat. I mean, it’s one thing if it’s a pair of sneakers you took from the suspect. But it’s another to take his fingers and leave prints, so to speak. My point is you got to have a pretty clever conspiracy to process prints at a crime scene and have them get a hit in the computer system. In IAFIS.”

“Yeah, well, Morales is a clever guy,” Marino said.

Bacardi got up and said, “I’m going to go on over to Murray Hill. Who’s meeting me?”

“Sit back down.” Marino tugged softly on the back of her belt. “You ain’t taking a damn cab. You’re a homicide detective. I’ll drop you off and head right back here. I got a battering ram in the trunk you can have. I pinched it last night when they brought me one at the Peebles scene, special order. Oops. I forgot to give it back.”

“I’m going,” Scarpetta said. “Everybody be careful, please. Mike Morales is an evil man.”

“Actually?” Berger said to Lucy. “And I’ve never told anybody this before.”

“You don’t have to tell me anything,” Lucy said.

“I think Morales may have broken in the barrister for Greg, and in typical fashion, Morales goes from being the philanderer to the confidant you can tell your troubles to. The more I think about it, he’s very bizarre that way, among other ways. To say the least.”

“You think Greg knew?”

“No, I sure don’t. Should I get us more coffee?”

“How do you know Morales was screwing around with the barrister?”

“It’s not hard to tell these things when you’re in an office with other people. I don’t pay much attention, or maybe it appears I don’t, but it registers. In retrospect, it becomes clear. Morales has probably done this sort of thing countless times, practically under my nose, or I’ve heard stories. He seduces someone into cheating on the boyfriend, the husband, and next thing, Morales has a bedside manner if not caretaking relationship with his victim. Helps her patch things up. Or he gets to know the man he fucked over, who doesn’t know he’s been fucked over, because Morales loves being pals with someone who has no idea he’s the devil. Sadistic games and more sadistic games. He and Greg used to sit downstairs and drink his expensive liquor and talk. Probably about me, at least some of the time. Not in a good way.”

“How long ago?”

“Morales got transferred into investigations about a year ago. It was right about that time. Toward the end. Not long before Greg moved to London. I’m sure Morales encouraged it. Might even have been his idea—for Greg to just end it with me.”