“Dr. Scarpetta, how would it make you feel if it was publicly suggested that you, in fact, did invite Chandonne into your home and assaulted him? For no reason, except perhaps you panicked? Or worse. That you are part of his conspiracy as he has stated on tapeyou and Jay Talley. Which also helps explain why you went to Paris and slept with Talley and then met Dr. Stvan and took evidence from the morgue.”
“How would that make me feel? I don’t know what else to say.”
“You’re the only witness, the only living person who knows that what Chandonne is saying is lies and more lies. If you’re telling the truth, then this case is completely up to you.”
“I’m not a witness in your case,” I remind her. “I had nothing to do with the Susan Pless murder investigation.”
“I need your help. It’s going to be very, very time-consuming.”
“I won’t help you. Not if you’re going to start questioning my veracity or state of mind.”
“Actually, I don’t question either. But the defense will. Seriously. Excruciatingly.” She is cautiously working her way around the edges of a reality she has yet to share with me. Opposing counsel. I suspect she knows who. She knows exactly who is going to finish what Chandonne started: the dismantling, the humiliation of me for all the world to see. My heart beats in sick thuds. I feel dead. My life has just ended right before my eyes.
“I will need you to come to New York at some point,” Berger is saying. “Sooner rather than later. And by the way, let me caution you to be very, very careful who you talk to right now. I don’t recommend, for example, that you talk to anyone about these cases without conferring with me first.” She begins packing up her paperwork and books. “I caution you about having any contact with Jay Talley.” Her eyes flick mine as she snaps shut her briefcase. “Unfortunately, I think we’re all going to get a Christmas present we’re not going to like.” We get up from our chairs and face each other.
“Who?” I go ahead and ask her in a tired voice. “You know who’s going to represent him, don’t you? That’s why you stayed up all night with him. You wanted to get to him before his counsel slams the door shut.”
“All true,” she replies with a hint of irritation. “The question is whether I was suckered into it.” We look at each other across the shiny expanse of the wooden table. “I find it a little too coincidental that within an hour of my last interview with Chandonne, I get word that he’s retained counsel,” she adds. “I suspect he already knew who his counsel was and may, in fact, have already retained him. But Chandonne and the dirtbag he’s hooked up with would believe that this tape”she pats her briefcase”would only hurt us and help him.”
“Because jurors either believe him or think he’s paranoid and crazy,” I summarize.
She nods. “Oh sure. They’ll go for insanity, if all else fails. And we don’t want Mister Chandonne at Kirby, now do we?”
Kirby is a notorious forensic psychiatric hospital in New York. It is where Carrie Grethen was incarcerated before she escaped and murdered Benton. Berger has just touched another part of my painful history. “You know about Carrie Grethen, then,” I say in a defeated way as we walk out of a conference room that I will never feel the same about again. It, too, has become a crime scene. My entire world is turning into one.
“I’ve done some research on you,” Berger says almost apologetically. “And you’re right, I do know who’s going to represent Chandonne, and it’s not good news. In fact, it’s pretty damn awful.” She puts on her mink coat as we walk out into the hallway. “Have you ever met Marino’s son?”
I stop and stare at her, dumbfounded. “I don’t know anyone who has ever met his son,” I reply.
“Come on, let’s get you to your party. I’ll explain as we walk out.” Berger cradles her books and files, walking slowly over quiet carpet. “Rocco Marino, affectionately known as ‘Rocky,’ is an exceptionally sleazy criminal defense attorney who has an affinity for representing the mob and others who make it worth his while to get them off the hook by any means. He’s flashy. Loves publicity.” She glances over at me. “Most of all, he loves to hurt people. That’s his power trip.”