Just ahead was Columbus Circle and the Time Warner skyscrapers, where Benton was in the studio this very second. This was a bad idea. Marino understood why Benton didn’t think there was a choice, and why he didn’t want to ask Berger first. He didn’t want her held accountable, and Benton didn’t answer to her. He didn’t answer to anyone. Marino understood, but now that Benton was making his appearance on international TV, something didn’t sit well about it.

“What we’re asking is if he’s listening, to please call the FBI.” Benton’s voice on live TV, through Marino’s earpiece. “We have reasons to be very concerned about Dr. Bane’s safety, and he is not—and I repeat—is not to contact local police or deal with any other authorities. He’s to call the FBI, and he will be escorted to safety.”

One of the things Scarpetta always said is never push somebody until that person has nothing to lose or nowhere to go. Benton always said it, too. So did Marino. Then why were they doing this? First, Berger had called Morales, and Marino had thought that was a terrible idea. She’d basically given him a head’s-up, maybe gloating a little as she stuck it to him. The brilliant Morales busted, caught. Berger was one hell of a prosecutor. She was tough, all right. But she shouldn’t have done that, and Marino still wasn’t sure why she had.

He had a funny feeling it was personal, at least in part. Scarpetta didn’t do anything like that, and she’d had her chance. When they were in Berger’s living room from midnight on, Scarpetta could have said a lot of things to taunt Morales, whom she didn’t like or trust any more than Marino did, even though they didn’t yet know his hobby was starring in his own damn snuff films. But Scarpetta had been completely professional, her usual self, with Morales sitting right there. If she’d thought he was a murderer but didn’t have a shred of proof, she would have kept her thoughts to herself. That’s who she was.

“I have to say, Dr. Wesley, this is probably the most unusual plea I’ve ever heard. I mean, maybe plea isn’t the right word, but why …”

Marino glanced down at the tiny figures bantering on his PDA. Berger’s building was maybe two more blocks away. She wasn’t safe. You push someone like Morales too far and rub his face in it, then what? Then he’s going to do something. Who’s he going to do it to first? The same lady he’s been trying to conquer ever since he became an investigator. The same lady he lies about, giving everybody the bullshit impression he has sex with the sex crimes DA. Not true. Not even close.

Morales wasn’t her type.