“To find what?”
“Drew was there the night before she flew to Rome. Who else was there? Possibly Dr. Self’s son. Probably the man Hollings suggested was the chef. The most mundane answer is often the right one,” Benton says. “I had the flight checked. Alitalia. Guess who was on the same flight Drew was?”
“Are you saying she was waiting for him at the Spanish Steps?”
“It wasn’t the gold-painted mime. That was a ruse, because she was waiting for Will and she didn’t want her friends to know. My theory.”
“She’d just ended it with her coach.” Scarpetta watches Bull fill the shallow pond. “After Dr. Self brainwashed her to do it. Another theory? Will wanted to meet Drew, and his mother didn’t put two and two together and realize he was the one sending the obsessive e-mails signed the Sandman. Inadvertently, she matchmade Drew with her killer.”
“One of those details we may never know,” Benton says. “People don’t tell the truth. After a while, they don’t even know it.”
Bull stoops down to deadhead pansies. He looks up at the same time Mrs. Grimball is looking down from her upstairs window. Bull pulls a leaf bag close and minds his own business. Scarpetta can see her nosy neighbor lifting a phone to her ear.
“That’s it,” Scarpetta says as she gets up, smiles, and waves.
Mrs. Grimball looks their way and slides up the window while Benton watches with no expression on his face, and Scarpetta keeps waving as if she has something urgent to say.
“He just got out of jail,” Scarpetta calls out. “And if you send him back, I’ll burn your house down.”
The window quickly shuts. Mrs. Grimball’s face disappears from the glass.
“You didn’t just say that,” Benton says.
“I’ll say whatever the hell I want,” Scarpetta says. “I live here.”