Body of Evidence. Patricia D Cornwell

“What was it about Beryl Madison, exactly?” Marino asked. “What made you notice her? You get a lot of cars in your car wash every day. Do you remember all your clients?”

“I remember more of them than you might think,” Hunt replied. “Regular customers in particular.

Maybe I don’t remember their names, but I remember their faces because most people generally stand out in the lot while the attendants are wiping down their cars. Many of the customers supervise, if you know what I mean. They keep an eye on their cars, make sure nothing is forgotten.

Some of them will pick up one of the cloths and help out, especially if they’re in a hurry–if they’re the kind of people who can’t stand still, have to be doing something.”

“Was Beryl that kind of person? Did she supervise?”

“No, sir. We have a couple of benches out there. It was her habit to sit outside on a bench.

Sometimes she read the paper, a book. She really didn’t pay any attention to the attendants and wasn’t what I would call friendly. Maybe that’s why I noticed her.”

“What do you mean?” Marino asked.

“I mean she sent out these signals. I picked up on them.”

“Signals?”

“People send out all kinds of signals,” Hunt explained. “I’m attuned to them, pick them up. I can tell a lot about a person by the signals he or she sends out.”

“Am I sending out signals, Al?”

“Yes, sir. Everybody sends them.”

“What signals am I sending?”

Hunt’s face was very serious as he answered, “Pale red.”

“Huh?” Marino looked baffled.

“I pick up signals as colors. Maybe you think that’s strange, but it’s not unique. There are some of us who sense colors radiating from others. These are the signals I’m referring to. The signals I pick up from you are a pale red. Somewhat warm but also somewhat angry. Like a warning signal. It draws you in but suggests a danger of some sort–”

Marino stopped the tape and smiled snidely at me.

“Is the guy a squirrel or what?” he asked.

“Actually, I think he’s rather astute,” I said. “You are sort of warm, angry, and dangerous.”

“Shit, Doc. The guy’s goofy. To hear him talk, the whole friggin’ population’s a walking rainbow.”

“There’s some psychological validity to what he’s saying,” I replied matter-of-factly. “Various emotions are associated with colors. It’s a legitimate basis for color schemes chosen for public places, hotel rooms, institutions. Blue, for example, is associated with depression. You won’t find many psychiatric hospital rooms decorated in blue. Red is angry, violent, passionate. Black is morbid, ominous, and so on. As I recall, you told me Hunt has a master’s degree in psychology.”

Marino looked annoyed and restarted the tape.

“–I assume this may have to do with the role you’re playing. You’re a detective,” Hunt was saying.

“You need my cooperation at the moment, but you also don’t trust me and could be dangerous to me if I have something to hide. That’s the warning part of the pale red I sense. The warm part is your outgoing personality. You want people to feel close to you. Maybe you want to be close to people. You act tough, but you want people to like you …”

“All right,” Marino interrupted.” What about Beryl Madison? You pick up colors from her, too?”

“Oh, yes. That struck me right away about her. She was different, really different.”

“How so?” Marino’s chair creaked loudly as he leaned back and crossed his arms.

“Very aloof,” Hunt replied. “I picked up arctic colors from her. Cool blue, pale yellow like weak sunlight, and white so cold it was hot like dry ice, as if she would burn you if you ever touched her.

It’s the white part that was different. I pick up the pastel shades from a lot of women. Feminine shades that fit with the colors they wear. Pink, yellow, light blues and greens. The ladies passive, cool, fragile. Sometimes I’ll see a woman who sends out dark, strong colors like navy or burgundy or red. She’s a stronger type. Usually aggressive, may be a lawyer or doctor or businesswoman, and often wears suits in the colors 1 just described. They’re the type who stand out by their cars, their hands on their hips as they supervise everything the attendants are doing. And they don’t hesitate to point out streaks on the windshield or any spots of dirt.”

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