“I fear terrorism may be involved.” I refused to back down.

“Until there is evidence of it—and I hope there won’t be—we can do nothing more for you here.” His regret was sincere. “Go to Atlanta and see what they have to say. They’re operating with a skeleton crew, too. The timing couldn’t be worse.”

“Or perhaps more deliberate,” I said. “If you were a bad person planning to commit serial crimes with a virus, what better time than when the significant federal health agencies are in extremis? And this furlough’s been going on for a while and not predicted to end anytime soon.”

He was silent.

“John,” I went on, “you helped with the autopsy. Have you ever seen a disease like this?”

“Only in textbooks,” he grimly replied.

“How does smallpox suddenly just reappear on its own?”

“If that’s what it is.”

“Whatever it is, it’s virulent and it kills,” I tried to reason with him.

But he could do nothing more, and the rest of the night I wandered from room to room in AOL. Every hour, I checked my e-mail. Deadoc remained silent until six o’clock the next morning when he walked into the M.E. room. My heart jumped as his name appeared on screen. My adrenaline began to pump the way it always did when he talked to me. He was on the line, it was up to me. I could catch him, if only I could trip him.

DEADOC: Sunday I went to church bet you didn’t

SCARPETTA: What was the homily about?

DEADOC: sermon

SCARPETTA: You are not Catholic.

DEADOC: beware of men

SCARPETTA: Matthew 10. Tell me what you mean.

DEADOC: to say he s sorry

SCARPETTA: Who is he? And what did he do?

DEADOC: ye shall indeed drink of the cup that I drink of

Before I could answer, he was gone, and I began flipping through the Bible. The verse he quoted this time was from Mark, and again, it was Jesus speaking, which hinted to me, if nothing else, that deadoc wasn’t Jewish. Nor was he Catholic, based on his comments about church. I was no theologian, but drinking of the cup seemed to refer to Christ’s eventual crucifixion. So deadoc had been crucified and I would be, too?

It was my last few hours here and my nurse, Sally, was more liberal with the phone. I paged Lucy, who called me back almost instantly.

“I’m talking to him,” I said. “Are you guys there?”

“We’re there. He’s got to stay on longer,” my niece said. “There are so many trunk lines, and we got to line up all the phone companies to trap and trace. Your last call was coming in from Dallas.”

“You’re kidding,” I said in dismay.

“That’s not the origin, just a switch it was routed through. We didn’t get any farther because he disconnected. Keep trying. Sounds like this guy’s some kind of religious nut.”

Eleven

Later that morning I left in a taxi as the sun was getting high in the clouds. I had nothing but the clothes on my back, all of which had been sterilized in the autoclave or gassed. I was in a hurry, and guarding a large white cardboard box printed with PERISHABLE RUSH! RUSH! and IMPORTANT KEEP UPRIGHT and other big blue warnings.