Five Scarpetta Novels by Patricia Cornwell Read Free Book Online

tell you more.”
    â€œI was just with Captain Green, and he didn’t tell me about that.”
    â€œThe story ran in The Virginian Pilot, back in October, I think. It wasn’t a big deal. Just your typical feature,” he said. “My personal opinion is he decided to come back to snoop around for something bigger.”
    â€œSuch as?”
    â€œDon’t ask me. I’m not a reporter.” He glanced across the table at Danny. “I personally hate the media. They’re always coming up with these wild theories and will do anything to prove them. Now this guy’s kinda famous around here, being a big-shot reporter for the AP and all. Rumor has it when he gets with girls it’s window dressing. You get beyond it and nothing’s there, if you know what I mean.” He had a cruel smile on his face, and I could not believe how much I did not like him when we had only met today.
    â€œWhere are you getting your information?” I asked.
    â€œI hear things.”
    â€œDanny, let’s get hair and fingernail samples,” I said.
    â€œYou know, I take the time to talk to people on the street,” Roche added as he brushed against my hip.
    â€œYou want his mustache plucked, too?” Danny fetched forceps and envelopes from a surgical cart.
    â€œMay as well.”
    â€œI guess you’re going to test him for HIV.” Roche brushed against me again.
    â€œYes,” I replied.
    â€œThen you’re thinking he might be queer.”
    I stopped what I was doing because I’d had enough. “Detective Roche”—I turned around to face him, and my voice was hard—“if you are going to be in my morgue, then you will give me room to work. You will stop rubbing against me, and you will treat my patients with respect. Thisman did not ask to be here dead and naked on this table. And I don’t like the word queer.”
    â€œWell, irregardless of what you call it, his orientation might somehow be important.” He was nonplussed, if not pleased by my irritation.
    â€œI don’t know for a fact that this man was or was not gay,” I said. “But I do know for a fact that he did not die of AIDS.”
    I grabbed a scalpel off a surgical cart and his demeanor abruptly changed. He backed off, suddenly unnerved because I was about to start cutting, so now I had that problem to cope with, too.
    â€œHave you ever seen an autopsy?” I said to him.
    â€œA few.” He looked like he might throw up.
    â€œWhy don’t you go sit down over there,” I suggested none too kindly as I wondered why Chesapeake had assigned him to this case or any case. “Or go out in the bay.”
    â€œIt’s just hot in here.”
    â€œIf you get sick, go for the nearest trash can.” It was all Danny could do not to laugh.
    â€œI’ll just sit over here for a minute.” Roche went to the desk near the door.
    I swiftly made the Y incision, the blade running from shoulders to sternum to pelvis. As blood was exposed to air, I thought I detected an odor that made me stop what I was doing.
    â€œYou know, Lipshaw’s got a really good sharpener out I wish we could get,” Danny was saying. “It hone-grinds with water so you can just stick the knives in there and leave them.”
    What I was smelling was unmistakable, but I could not believe it.
    â€œI was just looking at their new catalog,” he went on. “Makes me crazy all the cool things we can’t afford.”
    This could not be right.
    â€œDanny, open the doors,” I said with a quiet urgency that startled him.
    â€œWhat is it?” he asked in alarm.
    â€œLet’s get plenty of air in here. Now,” I said.
    He moved fast with his bad knee and opened double doors that led into the hall.
    â€œWhat’s wrong?” Roche sat up straighter.
    â€œThis man has a peculiar odor.” I was unwilling to voice my suspicions right then,