Isle of Dogs (33 page)

 “That’s what I’m considering.” Dr. Scarpetta’s voice came over the speakerphone in Hammer’s office shortly after Trooper Truth’s latest essay rocketed through cyberspace. “But I would have preferred not having any information about a flare gun or anything else pertaining to my case published on the Internet.”

“No one has any control over what Trooper Truth writes,” Hammer replied as she gave Andy a disapproving look. “He’s anonymous, assuming he’s a he.”

“How did he know about my case in Miami?” Dr. Scarpetta inquired.

“Maybe by doing an Internet search on spontaneous human combustion?” It was Andy who answered. “I assume there was a lot in the news about a case as sensational as that one must have been.”

“As usual, there was.”

“What next?” Hammer asked as she paced.

“I’ve submitted the grayish residue to the trace evidence lab and we’ll see if we come up with oxidized strontium, potassium perchlorate, phosphorous, chemicals like that,” Dr. Scarpetta informed them over the speakerphone. “In the meantime, he’s a death due to forty percent body burns and I’ll have to pend the rest of it, but I think you should work him
as a homicide unless we find out he had some sort of flare on his person that accidentally ignited.”

“Trader lied. Big surprise,” Andy said to Hammer as he hung up the phone. “So much for the Hispanic with New York plates.”

U
NFORTUNATELY
,
Trooper Macovich had no way of knowing what Hammer and Andy were discussing. As Macovich waited in his car while Barbie and Regina visited inside the clinic, Cruz Morales walked outside to smoke and noticed the unmarked Caprice. His heart jerked and began to pound. That bitch counselor had called the police! He tossed the cigarette and began to run, immediately snagging the attention of Macovich, who recognized him as the Mexican who had stopped at Hooter’s tollbooth. Macovich tossed his own cigarette and bolted out of the car in pursuit.

“Stop or I’ll shoot!” Macovich yelled as he pulled out his pistol.

Y
ES
,
I’ve thought about shooting myself,” Regina poured out her heart to Barbie Fogg, both of them unaware of the foot pursuit outside in the parking lot. “But I don’t have a gun.”

“I certainly am grateful for that!” Barbie said with relief.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Regina went on as she wept behind the closed door of Barbie’s office, which was furnished with a faux-finished blue desk, a rose sofa, and an abundance of silk arrangements in soothing pastels. “It’s like I’m from another planet. I think I’m saying the right thing, and then I piss everybody off. I don’t have a single friend, even if I had one . . .” She looked at her watch. “Well, I guess I had one three hours ago but not anymore. I think this is the longest I’ve ever talked to anyone. For sure, it’s the longest anybody’s ever listened,” Regina added pitifully.

“Who was the one friend you had until three hours ago?” Barbie listened intently from a lavender chair.

“Andy. He let me be his partner and then suddenly he turned hateful.”

“His partner? He’s your boyfriend or was briefly?” Barbie was a bit surprised.

If ever she had met a woman who was unattractive to men, it was this poor creature. The young woman desperately needed a complete makeover. If Barbie were given the virtually hopeless task, she would start by doing Regina’s colors, which were difficult to determine. Regina’s pale, ignored complexion and dark hair certainly would be enhanced by bold colors such as charcoal and red, but Barbie believed that only the most feminine of women could get away with any accouterment that hinted of strength and assertiveness.

The last thing Regina needed was to look more aggressive. Maybe if she lost eighty pounds, wore makeup, had a good haircut, and began waxing regularly, her appearance would soften, Barbie hoped.

“No, he wasn’t my boyfriend,” Regina was saying with an indignation that belied her hurt feelings and overall horrible opinion of herself.

“Do you get headaches?” Barbie inquired.

Regina blew her nose loudly. “Of course, I do. How could anybody in my position not get awful headaches daily?”

Oh dear, Barbie thought. She would have to work on everything about this wretched girl, including quietly dabbing instead of honking her nose.

“You do scowl a lot and have very strong frown muscles,” Barbie pointed out. “I think Botox would be a very smart place to start. I can hook you up with my doctor. But first, let’s talk about your boyfriend and what happened.”

“Andy’s not my boyfriend!” Regina cried harder, her face blotched and puffy. “He let me be his intern this morning and we went to the morgue and he got irritable.”

“Andy works at the morgue?” Barbie was horrified.

This was going from bad to worse. The last place someone like Regina needed to be was a morgue, and the idea of winter colors only became more distasteful and inappropriate. Anybody who spent time at the morgue should not be wearing bright red and black.

“He’s a trooper,” Regina explained with mounting impatience. “But that lady who runs the morgue didn’t like me,
either, and wouldn’t let me watch an autopsy just because I couldn’t spell.”

Barbie listened in perplexed silence.

“You know,” Regina went on, “that lady chief.”

“Oh yes. I’ve read about her and seen her on TV,” Barbie said. “Now with her blond hair and trim figure, she does fine in winter colors. But I’m beginning to see that we should try something different with you. Maybe summer colors. Have you ever worn a skirt?”

“Winter colors? A skirt? What is this, a Mary Kay Clinic?” Regina was insulted and repulsed. “I came here to talk about my problems! I didn’t come here to have you turn me into my mother!”

“We’ll talk about your mother another day,” Barbie directed her client. “One thing at a time. We’re going to need a lot of sessions, sweetie. But I think we should get back to Andy, because clearly he has hurt your feelings.”

“I’ve never had anybody like him pay attention to me, and then I have to be such a big dumb fuck and fall for it.” Tears flowed again. “He told me I don’t have any friends because I’m selfish and have no regard for the feelings of others, and then he exiled me to the bay and yelled at me when I was trying to find keys and a body fell on the concrete.”

“Oh my!”

This was far more than Barbie could process, and the images flashing in her mind were more than she could bear and would, no doubt, disturb her much-needed sleep tonight.

“I ruined my chance.” Regina sobbed. “I realize I did and don’t know what to do about it. I want him to respect and admire me for something, but I don’t know what.”

“All of us women need to work hard for praise and admiration.” Barbie understood something at last. “Oh yes, that is very important. So what you need is a little project. What little project could you start that might get you on the right track? Something you do all by yourself that would impress others and give them a higher opinion of you?”

Regina thought hard for a minute, sniffing and wiping her nose.

“What about if we start with waxing and complete skin
care?” Barbie suggested. “Then we might chat about dieting and yoga.”

If only Regina could prove herself just once.

“Papa needs a Seeing Eye horse,” she said, feeling a surge of hope. “Maybe I could be in charge of supervising it. Someone will need to feed and brush it and practice commands with it.”

“Does your father have a horse that’s gone blind?” Barbie frowned without changing expressions, the paralyzed muscles in her forehead smooth and uncommunicative.

“No. He can’t see and wants a minihorse because we already have Frisky.”

“Oh. Well, what a sweet idea.” Barbie tried to be encouraging. “Then why don’t you start with that? Let’s work on supervising your father’s little Seeing Eye horse.”

“He can take it to the race tomorrow night, and I’ll make sure everybody sees me supervising,” Regina said, her mood a bit lighter. “That will impress everybody, even Andy!”

“What a coincidence,” Barbie marveled as she thought of her magic rainbow and how it was making connections in her otherwise vacant life. “You know, it just so happens I’m going to the race, too. Why don’t I do a makeover of you before you go, and maybe you’ll meet some handsome race-car driver.”

“Oh please, sit with us in Papa’s box!” Regina got excited and even showed a little appreciation. “That would be perfect. But I don’t want to wear a skirt. I refuse to unless you really think it would impress people. Maybe the horse and I could ride in your van. Those Seeing Eye horses aren’t any bigger than Frisky.”

“I don’t know why not,” Barbie considered, assuming Frisky was a cat, and therefore a minihorse could easily fit inside a pet-carrying case in the back of the minivan. “Just make sure you tell me where to meet you.”

“Meet me at the mansion tomorrow at noon,” Regina said, happily. “And I’ll let you do the makeover.”

U
NIQUE
,
too, was considering a makeover as she sat in her dreary apartment, which was paid for by her wealthy,
important doctor-father, whom she accepted help from but hated. Unique was nude on her black bedspread, sorting through Polaroid photographs of various people she had savagely murdered over the years. She wasn’t getting the usual excitement and sexual arousal from reliving her crimes, because she was a bit anxious.

When she and Smoke had fled from the 7-Eleven the night before, they had noticed a Mexican kid in a beat-up Grand Prix, and Unique had ordered Smoke to chase him. Unique had not bothered rearranging her molecules when she went inside the convenience store because it was very late and although she had noticed the Grand Prix, she didn’t realize that its driver was nearby because the lights were out inside the pay phone booth. So Unique wasn’t invisible when she blew out the clerk’s brains and ran out of the store at the same moment the Mexican bolted out of the phone booth and sped off in his car.

Smoke had not been able to catch the Grand Prix, and now Unique had to consider the possibility that there was someone out there who could describe her to the police. She stared at the gory photograph of T.T. and fantasized about straddling the body and slashing away with the box cutter while T.T.’s warm flesh and blood were consummated by Unique’s Purpose and became part of her insatiable Darkness. Every one of Unique’s victims became part of her being. The Nazi inside her had directed Unique long ago that this violently sexual transubstantiation, or her Purpose, was essential if the Nazi were to live, and if the Nazi died, then so would Unique.

Unique’s frightening eyes roamed around her bedroom, taking in the cheap black furniture, black candles and incense, and the Nazi memorabilia she had begun acquiring through the Internet when she had pledged herself to destroy and consume people who did not deserve human existence according to her Purpose. She picked up another Polaroid and fantasized about the blond undercover cop whose identity she still did not know. But her Purpose would unite him with her soon enough, and although she had been invisible when she had first seen him inside the convenience store and then followed him home, she couldn’t take a chance that he might somehow recognize her. What if the Mexican boy gave her description to him?

Unique got up from the bed and looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Her naked skin shimmered, and she shook her long raven-black hair before she began hacking it off with a box cutter. Hair fell all around her bare feet and the Nazi directed her to dye what was left a pale blond that was almost white and change her plan about refusing to go with Smoke to the race tomorrow night. Unique had intended to consummate her Purpose with the blond cop while the road dogs were pretending to be a pit crew, but now things had changed. If only she could find that Mexican boy and slash him into eternal silence. But maybe it was too late. Maybe he had already given her description to the police.

“Show me,” she softly said to her Darkness. “Show me the Purpose.”

“You will find your Purpose,” she answered herself in a different voice that was deep and unearthly.

“Yes.” She smiled at herself in the mirror as her craving became intense. “Soon. Soon,” she said to the blond cop. “Soon you will have a unique experience.”