Point of Origin

'I'll call him at home as soon as we get off the phone.'

'I'm off tomorrow, so I guess I can squeeze you in.'

I did not say anything as I stared at the simmering pot and turned the heat down just a little.

'Point is, count me in,' Marino said, swallowing again.

'Meet me at my house,' I said. 'At nine.'

'I'll be there with bells on.'

Next I tried Dr Vessey's Bethesda home and he answered on the first ring.

'Thank God,' I said. 'Alex? It's Kay Scarpetta.'

'Oh! Well, how are you?'

He was always a bit befuddled and missing in action in the minds of the hoi polloi who did not spend their lives putting people back together again. Dr Vessey was one of the finest forensic anthropologists in the world, and he had helped me many times before.

'I'll be much better if you tell me you're in town tomorrow,' I said.

'I'll be working on the railroad as always.'

'I've got a cut mark on a skull. I need your help. Are you familiar with the Warrenton fire?'

'Can't be conscious and not know about that.'

'Okay. Then you understand.'

'I won't be there until about ten and there's no place to park,' he said. 'I got in a pig's tooth the other day with aluminum foil stuck in it,' he absently went on about whatever he'd been doing of late. 'I guess from a pig roast, dug up in someone's backyard. The Mississippi coroner thought it was a homicide, some guy shot in the mouth.'

He coughed and loudly cleared his throat. I heard him drink something.

'Still getting bear paws now and then,' he went on, 'more coroners thinking they're human hands.'

'I know, Alex,' I said. 'Nothing has changed.'

8

MARINO PULLED INTO my driveway early, at quarter of nine, because he wanted coffee and something to eat. He was officially not working, so he was dressed in blue jeans, a Richmond Police T-shirt, and cowboy boots that had lived a full life. He had slicked back what little hair had weathered his years, and he looked like an old beer-bellied bachelor about to take his woman to Billy Bob's.

'Are we going to a rodeo?' I asked as I let him in.

'You know, you always have a way of pissing me off.'

He gave me a sour look that didn't faze me in the least. He didn't mean it.

'Well, I think you look pretty cool, as Lucy would say. I've got coffee and granola.'

'How many times do I got to tell you that I don't eat friggin' birdseed,' he grumbled as he followed me through my house.

'And I don't cook steak-egg biscuits.'

'Well, maybe if you did, you wouldn't spend so many evenings alone.'

'I hadn't thought about that.'

'Did the Smithsonian tell you where we was going to park up there? Because there's no parking in D.C.'

'Nowhere in the entire district? The President should do something about that.'

We were inside my kitchen, and the sun was gold on windows facing it, while the southern exposure caught the river glinting through trees. I had slept better last night, although I had no idea why, unless my brain had been so overloaded it simply had died. I remembered no dreams, and was grateful.

'I got a couple of VIP parking passes from the last time Clinton was in town,' Marino said, helping himself to coffee. 'Issued by the mayor's office.'

He poured coffee for me, too, and slid the mug my way, like a mug of beer on the bar.

'I figured with your Benz and those, maybe the cops would think we have diplomatic immunity or something,' he went on.

'I'm supposing you've seen the boots they put on cars up there.'

I sliced a poppyseed bagel, then opened the refrigerator door to take an inventory.

'I've got Swiss, Vermont cheddar, prosciutto.'

I opened another plastic drawer.

'And Parmesan reggiano - that wouldn't be very good. No cream cheese. Sorry. But I think I've got honey, if you'd rather have that.'

'What about a Vidalia onion?' he asked, looking over my shoulder.

'That I have.'

'Swiss, prosciutto, and a slice of onion is just what the doctor ordered,' Marino said happily. 'Now that's what I call a breakfast.'

'No butter,' I told him. 'I have to draw the line somewhere so I don't feel responsible for your sudden death.'

'Deli mustard would be good,' he said.

I spread spicy yellow mustard, then added prosciutto and onion with the cheese on top, and by the time the toaster oven had heated up, I was consumed by cravings. I fixed the same concoction for myself and poured my granola back into its tin. We sat at my kitchen table and drank Columbian coffee and ate while sunlight painted the flowers in my yard in vibrant hues, and the sky turned a brilliant blue. We were on I-95 North by nine-thirty, and fought little traffic until Quantico.

As I drove past the exit for the FBI Academy and Marine Corps base, I was tugged by days that no longer were, by memories of my relationship with Benton when it was new, and my anxious pride over Lucy's accomplishments in a law enforcement agency that remained as much a politically correct all boys club as it had been during the reign of Hoover. Only now, the Bureau's prejudices and power-mongering were more covert as it marched forward like an army in the night, capturing jurisdictions and credits wherever it could as it pushed closer to becoming the official federal police force of America.

Such realizations had been devastating to me and were largely left unspoken, because I did not want to hurt the individual agent in the field who worked hard and had given his heart to what he believed was a noble calling. I could feel Marino looking at me as he tapped an ash out his window.

'You know, Doc,' he said. 'Maybe you should resign.'

He referred to my long-held position as the consulting forensic pathologist for the Bureau.

'I know they're using other medical examiners these days,' he went on. 'Bringing them in on cases instead of calling you. Let's face it, you haven't been to the Academy in over a year, and that's not an accident. They don't want to deal with you because of what they did to Lucy.'

'I can't resign,' I said, 'because I don't work for them, Marino. I work for cops who need help with their cases and turn to the Bureau. There's no way I'll be the one who quits. And things go in cycles. Directors and attorneys general come and go, and maybe someday things will be better again. Besides, you are still a consultant for them, and they don't seem to call you, either.'

'Yo. Well, I guess I feel the same way you do.'

He pitched his cigarette butt and it sailed behind us on the wind of my speeding car.

'It sucks, don't it? Going up there and working with good people and drinking beer in the Boardroom. It all gets to me, if you want to know. People hating cops and cops hating 'em back. When I was getting started, old folks, kids, parents - they was happy to see me. I was proud to put on the uniform and shined my shoes every day. Now, after twenty years, I get bricks throwed at me in the projects and citizens don't even answer if I say good morning. I work my ass off for twenty-six years, and they promote me to captain and put me in charge of the training bureau.'

'That's probably the place where you can do the most good,' I reminded him.

'Yeah, but that's not why I got stuck there.'

He stared out his side window, watching green highway signs fly by.

'They're putting me out to pasture, hoping I'll hurry up and retire or die. And I gotta tell you, Doc, I think about it a lot. Taking the boat out, fishing, taking the RV on the road and maybe going out west to see the Grand Canyon, Yosemite, Lake Tahoe, all those places I've always heard about. But then when it gets right down to it, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. So I just think I'll croak in the saddle.'

'Not anytime soon,' I said. 'And should you retire, Marino, you can do like Benton.'

'With all due respect, I ain't the consultant type,' he said. 'The Institute of Justice and IBM ain't gonna hire a slob like me. Doesn't matter what I know.'

I didn't disagree or offer another word, because, with rare exception, what he had said was true. Benton was handsome and polished and commanded respect when he walked into a room, and that was really the only difference between him and Pete Marino. Both were honest and compassionate and experts in their fields.