Blow Fly

95

TODAY FOR THE FIRST TIME in more than five years, Benton speaks to Senator Frank Lord, both of them using pay phones.

It strikes Benton as almost comical, as he envisions the ever-immaculately groomed and impeccably dressed Senator Lord driving from his Northern Virginia home, on his way to the Capitol, and pulling off at a gas station to use a pay phone. Benton orchestrated the conversation after receiving a very unexpected e-mail from the senator late last night.

Trouble, it read. Tomorrow 7:15. Leave me a number.

Benton e-mailed back the number of the pay phone he's using right now, having picked it out in advance last night. Always go for the simplest, most obvious plan, if possible. Certainly, it is beginning to seem that his meticulous and complicated ones are going awry in all directions.

He leans against a wall, watching his beat-up Cadillac, making sure no one goes near it or shows interest in him. Every alarm inside his head is hammering. Senator Lord is telling him about Scarpetta's letter from Chandonne, the one with the calligraphy.

"How did you find out about this?" Benton asks him.

"Jaime Berger called me last night. At home. Very concerned that Chandonne has set up a trap and Scarpetta's walking right into it. Berger wants my help, my intervention. People forget that I have my limitations. Well, my enemies don't forget it."

The senator wants to send legions of federal agents to Baton Rouge, but not even he can bend the law. The Baton Rouge Task Force has to invite the FBI into the investigation, and for all practical purposes to take it over. In these serial abductions-or murders, because that's what they are-there is an insurmountable jurisdictional problem with the feds storming in on their own. No federal laws have been broken.

"Damn incompetence," Senator Lord says. "Damn ignorant fools down there."

"It's close," Benton says into the phone. "The letter means the situation is very close to a possible conclusion. Not the way I wanted it. This is bad, very bad. I'm not worried about me."

"It can be handled?"

"I'm the only one who knows how. It will require exposure."

A long pause, then Senator Lord acquiesces. "Yes, I believe it will. But once that happens, there's no going back. We can't go through this again. Do you really…?"

"I have to. The letter changes things dramatically, and you know how she is. He is luring her there."

"She's there now."

"Baton Rouge?" Benton is frightened.

"Texas. I mean Texas."

"Christ. Not good, either. No, no, no. The letter. This one's real. Texas is no longer safe for her."

For a moment he contemplates Scarpetta visiting Chandonne. Originally, he had tactical and personal reasons for wanting her to do this. But if he's honest with himself, he never really thought she would. He really didn't, despite his best efforts. Now she shouldn't be there. Christ.

"She's there even as we speak," Senator Lord reminds him.

"Frank, he's going to make a run for it."

"I don't see how. Not out of that place. No matter how clever he is. I'll alert them immediately."

"He's more than clever. The point is this: If he's luring her to Baton Rouge, then he must plan to be there. I know him. I know her. She'll head to Baton Rouge as soon as she leaves Texas. Unless he intercepts her first, in Texas, if he can work that fast. Hopefully he can't. But either way, she is in severe danger. Not just because of him, but his allies. They must be in Baton Rouge. His brother must be there. The killings now make sense. He's doing them. She's probably helping him. Since she hasn't been caught yet, my guess is he and Bev Kiffin are together, hiding."

"Isn't abducting women taking a tremendous risk for fugitives of their notoriety?"

"He's bored," Benton simply says.