Predator by Patricia Cornwell Page A

walk past Scarpetta’s door, except Rose, of course. She has been Scarpetta’s secretary for fifteen years, is well past retirement age and isn’t particularly vulnerable to male charm unless it is Marino’s. He is probably the only man whose flirtations she welcomes, and Scarpetta picks up the phone to ask her where he is. He is supposed to be here for this meeting.
         “I tried him last night,” Scarpetta says over the phone to Rose. “Several times.”
         “Let me see if I can find him,” Rose says. “He’s been acting rather odd lately.”
         “Not just lately.”
         Dave studies an autopsy report, his head tilted back as he reads through the horn-rimmed glasses low on his nose.
         “The last few weeks have been worse. I have a funny feeling it’s about a woman.”
         “See if you can find him.”
         She hangs up and looks across her desk to see if Dave is ready to get on with his prejudicial questions about another difficult death that he is convinced can be resolved for a substantial fee. Unlike most police departments that invite the assistance of the Academy’s scientific and medical experts, lawyers usually pay, and, as a rule, most clients who can pay are representing people who are as guilty as hell.
         “Marino not coming?” he asks.
         “We’re trying to find him.”
         “I’ve got a deposition in less than an hour.” He turns a page of the report. “Seems to me when all is said and done, the findings are in favor of an impact and nothing more.”
         “I’m not going to say that in court,” she replies, looking at the report, at the details of an autopsy she didn’t perform. “What I can say is that while a subdural hematoma can be caused by an impact—in this case, the alleged fall off the couch onto the tile floor—it is highly unlikely, was more likely caused by violent shaking that causes shearing forces in the cranial cavity and subdural bleeding and injury to the spinal cord.”
         “As for the retinal hemorrhages, aren’t we in agreement those can also be caused by trauma, such as his head striking the tile floor, resulting in a subdural?”
         “Not at all in a short fall like this. Again, was more likely caused by the head whipping back and forth. Just as the report makes clear.”
         “I don’t think you’re helping me out much here, Kay.”
         “If you don’t want an unbiased opinion, you should find another expert.”
         “There is no other expert. You’re unrivaled.” He smiles. “What about a vitamin K deficiency?”
         “If you have antemortem blood that revealed protein-induced vitamin K deficiency,” she replies. “If you’re looking for leprechauns.”
         “Problem is, we don’t have antemortem blood. He didn’t survive long enough to get to the hospital.”
         “That’s a problem.”
         “Well, shaken baby syndrome can’t be proved. It’s definitely unclear and improbable. You can at least say that.”
         “What’s clear is you don’t have mama’s fourteen-year-old son babysit his newborn brother when the son has already been to juvenile court twice for assault on other children and is legendary for his explosive temper.”
         “And you won’t say that.”
         “No.”
         “Look, all I ask is you point out there’s no definitive evidence that this baby was shaken.”
         “I will also point out there’s no definitive evidence that he wasn’t, that I can find no fault with the autopsy report in question.”
         “The Academy’s great,” Dave says, getting up from his chair. “But you guys are roughing me up. Marino’s a no-show. Now you’re leaving me hanging out to dry.”
         “I’m sorry about Marino,” she says.
         “Maybe you need to control him better.”
         “That’s not exactly possible.”
         Dave tucks in