“Tell me where you were born. Dr. Scarpetta,” the judge said to me from the other side of his immaculate desk.
“Miami,” I replied.
“You certainly don’t talk like a Southerner. I would have placed you up north somewhere.”
“I was educated in the North.”
“It might surprise you to know that I was, too,” he said.
“Why did you settle here?” Dr. Jenrette asked him.
“I’m sure for some of the very same reasons that you did.”
“But you’re from here,” I said.
“Going back three generations. My great-grandfather was born in a log cabin around here. He was a teacher. That was on my mother’s side. On my father’s side we had mostly moonshiners until about halfway into this century. Then we had preachers. I believe that might be them now.” Marino opened the door, and his face peeked in before his feet did. Denesa Steiner was behind him, and though I would never accuse Marino of chivalry, he was unusually attentive and gentle with this rather peculiarly put together woman whose dead daughter was our reason for gathering. The judge rose, and out of habit so did I, as Mrs. Steiner regarded each of us with curious sadness.
“I’m Dr. Scarpetta.” I offered my hand and found hers cool and soft.
“I’m terribly sorry about this, Mrs. Steiner.”
“I’m Dr. Jenrette. We’ve talked on the phone.”
“Won’t you be seated,” the judge said to her very kindly. Marino moved two chairs close together, directing her to one while he took the other. Mrs. Steiner was in her mid- to late thirties and dressed entirely in black. Her skirt was full and below her knees, a sweater buttoned to her chin. She wore no makeup, her only jewelry a plain gold wedding ring. She looked the part of a spinster missionary, yet the longer I studied her, the more I saw what her puritanical grooming could not hide. She was beautiful, with smooth pale skin and a generous mouth, and curly hair the color of honey. Her nose was patrician, her cheekbones high, and beneath the folds of her horrible clothes hid a voluptuously well formed body. Nor had her attributes successfully eluded anything male and breathing in the room. Marino, in particular, could not take his eyes off her.
“Mrs. Steiner,” the judge began, “the reason I wanted you to come here this afternoon is these doctors have made a request I wanted you to hear. And let me say right off how much I appreciate your coming. From all accounts, you’ve shown nothing but courage and decency during these unspeakably trying hours, and I have no intention whatsoever of adding to your burdens unnecessarily.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said quietly, her tapered, pale hands clasped tightly in her lap.
“Now, these doctors have found a few things in the photographs taken after little Emily died. The things they’ve found are mysterious and they want to take another look at her.”
“How can they do that?” she asked innocently in a voice steady and sweet, and not indigenous to North Carolina.
“Well, they want to exhume her,” the judge replied. Mrs. Steiner did not look upset but baffled, and my heart ached for her as she fought back tears.
“Before I say yes or no to their request,” Begley went on, “I want to see how you might feel about this.”
“You want to dig her up?” She looked at Dr. Jenrette, then me.
“Yes,” I answered her.
“We would like to examine her again immediately.”
“I don’t understand what you might find this time that you didn’t find before.” Her voice trembled.
“Maybe nothing that will matter,” I said.
“But there are a few details I noticed in photographs that I’d like to get a closer look at, Mrs. Steiner. These mysterious things might help us catch whoever did this to Emily. ”
s snatch the SOB who killed your baby?” the judge asked. She nodded vigorously as she wept, and Marino spoke with fury.
“You help us, and I promise we’re going to nail the goddam bastard.”
“I’m sorry to put you through this,” said Dr. Jenrette, who would forever be convinced he had failed.
“Then may we proceed?” Begley leaned forward in his chair as if poised to spring, for like everyone in his chambers, he felt this woman’s horrible loss. He felt her abject vulnerability in a manner that I was convinced would forever change the way he viewed offenders with hard luck stories and excuses who approached his bench. Denesa Steiner nodded again because she could not speak. Then Marino helped her out of the room, leaving Jenrette and me.