He opened a bottle of liquid solvent used for temporary mountings, and with tweezers, removed the cover slide and carefully turned the fragment over. Dripping xylene, he covered the slide again and motioned for me to bend close.

“What do you see?” he asked, and he was proud of himself.

“Something grayish and solid. Not the same material as the other side.” I looked at him in surprise. “This fabric has a backing on it?”

“Some kind of thermoplastic. Probably polyethylene terephthalate.”

“Which is used in what?” I wanted to know.

“Primarily soft drink bottles, film. Blister packs used in packing.”

I stared at him, baffled, for I did not see how those products could have anything to do with this case.

“What else?” I asked.

He thought. “Strapping materials. And some of it, like bottles, can be recycled and used for carpet fibers, fiberfill, plastic lumber. Just about anything.”

“But not fabric for clothing.”

He shook his head, and said with certainty, “No way. The fabric in question is a rather common, crude polyester blend lined with a plastic-type material. Definitely not like any clothing I’ve ever heard of. Plus, it appears to be saturated with paint.”

“Thank you, Aaron,” I said. “This changes everything.”

When I got back to my office, I was surprised and annoyed to find Percy Ring sitting in a chair across from my desk, flipping through a notebook.

“I had to be in Richmond for an interview at Channel Twelve,” he innocently said, “so I thought I might as well come by to see you. They want to talk to you, too.” He smiled.

I did not answer him, but my silence was loud as I sat in my chair.

“I didn’t think you would do the interview. And that’s what I told them,” he went on in his easy, affable way.

“And so tell me, what exactly did you say this time?” My tone was not nice.

“Excuse me?” His smile faded and his eyes got hard. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re the investigator. Figure it out.” My eyes were just as hard as his.

He shrugged. “I gave the usual. Just the basic information about the case and its similarities to the other ones.”

“Investigator Ring, let me make this very clear yet one more time,” I said with no attempt to hide my disdain for him. “This case is not necessarily like the other ones, and we should not be discussing it with the media.”

“Well, now, it appears you and I have a different perspective, Dr. Scarpetta.”

Handsome in a dark suit and paisley suspenders and tie, he looked remarkably credible. I could not help but recall what Wesley had said about Ring’s ambitions and connections, and the idea that this egotistical idiot would one day run the state police or be elected to Congress was one I could not stand.

“I think the public has a right to know if there’s a psycho in their midst,” he was saying.