Read Online Book of the Dead by Patricia Cornwell - Free Book Online
Authors: Patricia Cornwell
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“Accusations that you manipulated the jury.”
“What court’s about. Manipulating the jury.”
“That you talking? Or am I sitting with a stranger?”
“If you’re hog-tied, tortured, and can hear the screams of your loved ones being brutalized and killed in another room, and you take your own life to escape their fate? That’s not a goddamn suicide, Lucy. That’s murder.”
“What about legally?”
“I really don’t care.”
“You sort of used to.”
“I sort of didn’t. You don’t know what’s been in my mind when I’ve worked cases all these years and often found myself the only advocate for the victims. Dr. Self wrongly hid behind her shield of confidentiality and didn’t divulge information that could have prevented profound suffering and death. She deserves worse than she got. Why are we talking about this? Why are you getting me upset?”
Lucy meets her eyes. “What do they say? Revenge is best served cold? She’s in contact with Marino again.”
“Oh, God. As if this past week hasn’t been hell enough. Has he completely lost his mind?”
“When you came back from Rome and spread the word, did you think he was going to be happy about it? Do you live in outer space?”
“Clearly, I must.”
“How can you not see it? Suddenly he goes out and gets drunk every night, gets a new trashy girlfriend. He’s really picked one this time. Or don’t you know? Shandy Snook, as in Snook’s Flamin’ Chips?”
“Flamin’ what? Who?”
“Greasy, oversalted potato chips flavored with jalapeño and red pepper sauce. Made her father a fortune. She moved here about a year ago. Met Marino at the Kick ’N Horse this past Monday night, and it was love at first sight.”
“He tell you all this?”
“Jess told me.”
Scarpetta shakes her head, has no idea who Jess is.
“Owns the Kick ’N Horse. Marino’s biker hangout, and I know you’ve heard him talk about it. She called me because she’s worried about him and his latest trailer-park paramour, worried about how out of control he’s getting. Jess says she’s never seen him like this.”
“How would Dr. Self know Marino’s e-mail address unless he contacted her first?” Scarpetta asks.
“Her personal e-mail address hasn’t changed since he was her patient in Florida. His has. So I think we can figure out who wrote who first. I can find out for sure. Not that I have the password for the personal e-mail account on his home computer, although minor inconveniences like that have never stopped me. I’d have to…”
“I know what you’d have to do.”
“Have physical access.”
“I know what you’d have to do, and I don’t want you to. Let’s don’t make this any worse than it is.”
“At least some of the e-mails he’s gotten from her are now on his office desktop for all the world to see,” Lucy says.
“That makes no sense.”
“Of course it does. To make you angry and jealous. Payback.”
“And you noticed them on his desktop because?”
“Because of the little emergency last night. When he called me and said he’d been notified that an alarm was going off, indicating the fridge was malfunctioning, and he wasn’t anywhere near the office and could I check. He said if I need to call the alarm company, the number’s on the list taped to his wall.”
“An alarm?” she says, baffled. “No one notified me.”
“Because it didn’t happen. I get there and everything’s status quo. The fridge is fine. I go into his office to get the number of the alarm company so I can check to be sure everything really is okay, and guess what’s on his desktop.”
“This is ridiculous. He’s acting like a child.”
“He’s no
“What court’s about. Manipulating the jury.”
“That you talking? Or am I sitting with a stranger?”
“If you’re hog-tied, tortured, and can hear the screams of your loved ones being brutalized and killed in another room, and you take your own life to escape their fate? That’s not a goddamn suicide, Lucy. That’s murder.”
“What about legally?”
“I really don’t care.”
“You sort of used to.”
“I sort of didn’t. You don’t know what’s been in my mind when I’ve worked cases all these years and often found myself the only advocate for the victims. Dr. Self wrongly hid behind her shield of confidentiality and didn’t divulge information that could have prevented profound suffering and death. She deserves worse than she got. Why are we talking about this? Why are you getting me upset?”
Lucy meets her eyes. “What do they say? Revenge is best served cold? She’s in contact with Marino again.”
“Oh, God. As if this past week hasn’t been hell enough. Has he completely lost his mind?”
“When you came back from Rome and spread the word, did you think he was going to be happy about it? Do you live in outer space?”
“Clearly, I must.”
“How can you not see it? Suddenly he goes out and gets drunk every night, gets a new trashy girlfriend. He’s really picked one this time. Or don’t you know? Shandy Snook, as in Snook’s Flamin’ Chips?”
“Flamin’ what? Who?”
“Greasy, oversalted potato chips flavored with jalapeño and red pepper sauce. Made her father a fortune. She moved here about a year ago. Met Marino at the Kick ’N Horse this past Monday night, and it was love at first sight.”
“He tell you all this?”
“Jess told me.”
Scarpetta shakes her head, has no idea who Jess is.
“Owns the Kick ’N Horse. Marino’s biker hangout, and I know you’ve heard him talk about it. She called me because she’s worried about him and his latest trailer-park paramour, worried about how out of control he’s getting. Jess says she’s never seen him like this.”
“How would Dr. Self know Marino’s e-mail address unless he contacted her first?” Scarpetta asks.
“Her personal e-mail address hasn’t changed since he was her patient in Florida. His has. So I think we can figure out who wrote who first. I can find out for sure. Not that I have the password for the personal e-mail account on his home computer, although minor inconveniences like that have never stopped me. I’d have to…”
“I know what you’d have to do.”
“Have physical access.”
“I know what you’d have to do, and I don’t want you to. Let’s don’t make this any worse than it is.”
“At least some of the e-mails he’s gotten from her are now on his office desktop for all the world to see,” Lucy says.
“That makes no sense.”
“Of course it does. To make you angry and jealous. Payback.”
“And you noticed them on his desktop because?”
“Because of the little emergency last night. When he called me and said he’d been notified that an alarm was going off, indicating the fridge was malfunctioning, and he wasn’t anywhere near the office and could I check. He said if I need to call the alarm company, the number’s on the list taped to his wall.”
“An alarm?” she says, baffled. “No one notified me.”
“Because it didn’t happen. I get there and everything’s status quo. The fridge is fine. I go into his office to get the number of the alarm company so I can check to be sure everything really is okay, and guess what’s on his desktop.”
“This is ridiculous. He’s acting like a child.”
“He’s no
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