cpatricia.blacknotice-第58节

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　　The　phone　rang。　He　snatched　it　up。
　　〃What〃　he　blurted　out。　〃Oh；　yeah？〃　he　added　after　a　pause。　〃Well；　they're　right。　We　are　making　a　fucking　disturbance；　and　you　send　fucking　security　up；　I'll　just　send　'em　right　back　down　'cause　I'm　a　goddamn…fucking　cop　and　I'm　in　a　goddamn…fucking…shitty　mood　right　now！〃
　　He　slammed　down　the　receiver。　He　sat　down　on　the　bed　next　to　me。　Tears　filled　his　eyes；　too。
　　〃Now　what　do　we　do；　Doc？　Now　what　the　hell　do　we　do；　huh？〃
　　〃He　wanted　us　to　have　dinner　together　so　we　would　fight　and　hate　and　cry　like　this；〃　I　muttered；　tears　slipping　down　my　face。　〃He　knew　we　would　turn　on　each　other　and　blame　each　other　because　there　was　no　other　way　for　us　to　let　it　out　and　go　on。〃
　　〃Yeah；　I　guess　he　profiled　us；〃　Marino　said。　〃I　guess　he　did。　Like　he　somehow　knew　it　would　happen；　and　how　we'd　act。〃
　　〃He　knew　me；〃　I　muttered。　〃Oh；　God；　did　he　know　me。　He　knew　I　would　handle　it　worse　than　anybody。　I'don't　cry。　I　don't　want　to　cry！　I　learned　not　to　when　my　father　was　dying；　because　to　cry　was　to　feel；　and　it　was　too　much　to　feel。　It　was　as　if　I　could　make　myself　get　dry　inside　like　a　dry　pod　that　rattles；　my　feelings　tiny；　hard　。　。　。　rattling。　I'm　devastated；　Marino。　I　don't　think　I　can　get　over　it。　Maybe　it　would　be　a　good　thing　if　I　got　fired；　too。　Or　quit。〃
　　〃That　ain't　gonna　happen；〃　he　said。
　　When　I　didn't　reply；　he　got　up　and　lit　a　cigarette。　He　paced。
　　〃You　want　some　dinner　or　something？〃
　　〃I　just　need　to　sleep；〃　I　said。
　　〃Maybe　getting　out'of　this　room　would　be　a　good　thing。〃
　　〃No；　Marino。〃
　　I　knocked　myself　out　with　Benadryl　and　felt　thickheaded　and　bleary　when　I　forced　myself　out　of　bed　the　next　morning。　I　looked　in　the　bathroom　mirror　and　saw　exhausted；　puffy　eyes。　I　splashed　cold　water　on　my　face　and　dressed　and　got　a　cab　at　seven…thirty；　this　time　without　any　help　from　Interpol。
　　The　Institut　Médico…Légal；　a　three…story　building　of　red　brick　and　pitted　limestone；　was　in　the　east　section　of　the　city。　The　Voie　Expressway　cut　it　off　from　the　Seine；　which　this　morning　was　the　color　of　honey。　The　taxi　driver　dropped　me　off　in　front；　where　I　walked　through　a　small；　lovely　park　with　primroses；　pansies；　daisies　and　wild　flowers；　and　old　plantain　trees。　A　young　couple　necking　on　a　bench　and　an　old　man　walking　his　dog　seemed　oblivious　to　the　distinct　stench　of　death　seeping　through　the　Institut's　barred　windows　and　black　iron　front　door。
　　Ruth　Stvan　was　well　known　for　the　unusual　system　she　ran。　Visitors　were　received　by　hostesses；　so　when　the　bereft　came　through　the　door；　they　were　immediately　intercepted　by　someone　kind　who　helped　them　find　their　way；　and　one　of　these　hostesses　reached　out　to　me。　She　led　me　along　a　tile　corridor　where　investigators　waited　in　blue　chairs；　and　I　understood　enough　of　what　they　were　saying　to　gather　that　someone　had　jumped　out　of　a　window　the　night　before。
　　I　followed　my　silent　guide　past　a　small　chapel　with　stained　glass　where　a　couple　was　crying　over　a　young　boy　inside　an　open　white　casket。　Handling　the　dead　here　was　different　from　what　we　did。　In　America；　there　simply　wasn't　time　or　funding　for　hostesses；　chapels　and　handholding　in　a　society　in　which　shootings　came　in　every　day　and　no　one　lobbied　for　the　dead。
　　Dr。　Stvan　was　working　on　a　case　in　the　Salle　d'Autopsie；　designated　as　such　by　a　sign　over　automatically　opening　doors。　When　l　walked　in；　I　was　overwhelmed　by　anxiety　again。　I　shouldn't　have　e　here。　I　didn't　know　what　I　would　say。　Ruth　Stvan　was　placing　a　lung　in　a　hanging　scale；　her　green　gown　splashed　with　blood；　glasses　speckled　with　it。　I　knew　her　case　was　the　man　who　had　jumped。　His　face　was　smashed；　feet　split　open；　shin　tones　driven　up　into　his　thighs。
　　〃Give　me　one　minute；　please；〃　Dr。　Stvan　said　to　me。
　　There　were　two　other　cases　going　on；　those　doctors　wearing　white。　On　chalkboards　were　names　and　case　numbers。　A　Stryker　saw　was　opening　a　skull　while　water　ran　loudly　in　sinks。　Dr。　Stvan　was　quick　and　energetic；　fair　and　big…boned　and　older　than　me。　I　remembered　that　when　we　were　in　Geneva　she　had　kept　to　herself。
　　Dr。　Stvan　covered　her　unfinished　case　with　a　sheet　and　pulled　off　her　gloves。　She　began　untying　her　gown　in　back　as　she　walked　over　to　me　with　sure；　strong　steps。
　　〃How　are　you？〃　she　asked。
　　〃I'm　not　sure；〃　I　said。
　　If　she　thought　this　an　odd　answer；　she　didn't　show　it。
　　〃Follow　me；　please；　and　we'll　talk　as　I　clean　up。　Then　get　a　coffee。〃
　　She　took　me　into　a　small　dressing　room　and　dropped　her　gown　in　a　clothes　bin。　Both　of　us　washed　our　hands　with　disinfectant　soap；　and　she　scrubbed　her　face；　too；　and　dried　it　with　a　rough；　blue　towel。
　　〃Dr。　Stvan；〃　I　said；　〃obviously　I'm　not　here　for　a　friendly　chat　or　to　dabble　into　what　your　M。E。　system　is　like　over　here。　We　both　know　that。〃
　　〃Of　course；〃　she　replied；　meeting　my　eyes。　〃I'm　not　friendly　enough　for　a　social　visit。〃　She　smiled　a　little。　〃Yes；　we　met　in　Geneva；　Dr。　Scarpetta；　but　we　didn't　socialize。　It's　a　shame；　really。　There　were　so　few　women　back　then：'
　　She　talked　as　we　walked　along　the　corridor。
　　〃When　you　called；　I　knew　what　it　was　about　because　I'm　the　one　who　asked　you　here；〃　she　added。
　　〃It　makes　me　a　little　nervous　to　hear　you　say　that；〃　I　replied。　〃As　if　I'm　not　nervous　enough。〃
　　〃We're　after　the　same　things　in　life。　If　you　were　me；　I'd　be　visiting　you；　do　you　see？　I　would　be　saying；　we　can't　let　this　continue。　We　can't　let　other　women　die　this　way。　Now　in　America；　in　Richmond。　He's　a　monster；　this　Loup…Garou：　〃
　　We　stepped　inside　her　office；　where　there　were　no　windows；　and　stacks　of　files　and　journals　and　memos　spilled　from　every　surface。　She　picked　up　the　phone　and　dialed　an　extension；　and　asked　someone　to　bring　us　coffee。
　　〃Please；　make　yourself　fortable；　if　that's　possible。　I'd　move　things　out　of　the　way　but　I've　no　place　to　put　them。〃
　　I　pulled　a　chair　close　to　her　desk。
　　〃I　felt　very　out　of　place　when　we　were　in　Geneva；〃　she　said；　her　mind　apparently　jumping　back　to　that　memory　as　she　shut　the　door。　〃And　part　of　the　reason　is　the　system　here　in　France。　Forensic　pathologists　are　pletely　isolated　here　and　that's　not　changed　and　perhaps　never　will　in　my　lifetime。　We're　allowed　to　talk　to　no　one；　which　isn't　always　so　bad　because　I　like　to　work　alone。〃
　　She　lit　a　cigarette。
　　〃I　inventory　the　injuries　and　police　tell　the　whole　story；
　　if　they　choose。　If　a　case　is　sensitive；　I　talk　to　the　magistrate　myself　and　maybe　I　get　what　I　need；　maybe　I　don't。　Sometimes　when　I　raise　the　question；　no　lab　is　appointed　for　the　tests；　do　you　understand？〃
　　〃Then；　in　a　sense；〃　I　said；　〃your　only　job　is　to　find　the　cause　of　death。〃
　　She　nodded。　〃For　each　case　I　receive　a　mission　from　the　magistrate　to　determine　the　cause　of　death；　and　that's　all。〃
　　〃You　don't　really　investigate。〃
　　〃Not　the　way　you　do。　Not　the　way　I　want　to；〃　she　replied；　blowing　smoke　out　of　the　side　of　her　mouth。　〃You　see；　the　problem　with　French　justice　is　the　magistrate　is　independent。　I　can　report　to　no　one　but　the　magistrate　who　appointed　me；　and　only　the　minister　of　justice　can　take　a　case　away　and　give　it　to　another　magistrate。　So　if　there's　a　problem；　I　don't　have　the　power　to　do　anything　about　it。　The　magistrate　does　what　he　wants　to　my　report。　If　I　say　it's　a　homicide　and　he　doesn't　agree；　so　be　it。　It's　not　my　problem。　This　is　law。〃
　　〃He　can　change　your　report？〃　The　idea　was　outrageous　to　me。
　　〃Of　course。　I'm　alone　against　everyone。　And　I　suspect　you　are；　too。　〃
　　I　didn't　want　to　think　about　how　alone　I　was。
　　〃I'm　keenly。　aware　if　anyone　knew　we　were　talking；　it　could　be　very　bad；　especially　for　you〃　I　started　to　say。
　　She　held　up　her　hand　for　me　to　be　quiet。　The　door　opened　and　the　same　young　woman　who　had　escorted　me　came　in　with　a　tray　of　coffee；　cream　and　sugar。　Dr。　Stvan　thanked　her　and　said　something　else　in　French　I　didn't　get。　The　woman　nodded　and　quietly　left；　shutting　the　door　behind　her：
　　〃I　told　her　to　hold　all　calls；〃　Dr。　Stvan　informed　me。　〃I　need　to　let　you　know　right　away　that　the　magistrate　who　appointed　me　is　someone　I　very　much　respect。　But　there　are　pressures　above　him；　if　you　understand　what　I　mean。
　　Pressures　even　above　the　minister　of　justice。　I　don't　know　where　all　of　it　es　from；　but　there　was　no　lab　work　done　in　these　cases；　which　is　why　you　were　sent。〃
　　〃Sent？　I　thought　it　was　you　who　asked　for　me。〃
　　〃How　do　you　take　your　coffee？〃　Dr。　Stvan　asked。
　　〃Who　told　you　I　was　sent？〃
　　〃Certainly；　you've　been　sent　in　to　relieve　me　of　my　secrets；　and　I'll　give　them　up　to　you　gladly。　Do　you　take　sugar　and　cream？〃
　　〃Black。〃
　　〃When　the　woman　was　murdered　in　Richmond；　I　was　told　you'd　be　sent　here　if　I'd　talk　to　you。〃
　　〃So　you　didn't　request　that　I　e？〃
　　〃I　would　never　have　asked　such　a　thing；　because　I　would　never　imagine　such　a　request　would　be　granted。〃
　　I　thought　of　the　private　jet；　the　Concorde　and　all　the　rest　of　it。
　　〃Could　you　spare　a　cigarette？〃　I　said。
　　〃I'm　so　sorry　I　didn't　ask。　I　didn't　know　you　smoke。〃
　　〃I　don't。　This　is　just　a　detour。　One　that's　lasted　about　a　year。　Do　you　know　who　sent　me；　Dr。　Stvan？〃
　　〃Someone　with　enough　influence　to　get　you　here　almost　ins