“Multiple Miggs, in the cell down there. He hissed at you. What did he say?”
“He said, ‘I can smell your cunt.’”
“I see. I myself cannot. You use Evyan skin cream, and sometimes you wear L’Air du Temps, but not today. Today you are determinedly unperfumed. How do you feel about what Miggs said?”
“He’s hostile for reasons I couldn’t know. It’s too bad. He’s hostile to people, people are hostile to him. It’s a loop.”
“Are you hostile to him?”
“I’m sorry he’s disturbed. Beyond that, he’s noise. How did you know about the perfume?”
“A puff from your bag when you got out your card. Your bag is lovely.”
“Thank you.”
“You brought your best bag, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” It was true. She had saved for the classic casual handbag, and it was the best item she owned.
“It’s much better than your shoes.”
“Maybe they’ll catch up.”
“I have no doubt of it.”
“Did you do the drawings on your walls, Doctor?”
“Do you think I called in a decorator?”
“The one over the sink is a European city?”
“It’s Florence. That’s the Palazzo Vecchio and the Duomo, seen from the Belvedere.”
“Did you do it from memory, all the detail?”
“Memory, Officer Starling, is what I have instead of a view.”
“The other one is a crucifixion? The middle cross is empty.”
“It’s Golgotha after the Deposition. Crayon and Magic Marker on butcher paper. It’s what the thief who had been promised Paradise really got, when they took the paschal lamb away.”
“And what was that?”
“His legs broken of course, just like his companion who mocked Christ. Are you entirely innocent of the Gospel of St. John? Look at Duccio, then—he paints accurate crucifixions. How is Will Graham? How does he look?”
“I don’t know Will Graham.”
“You know who he is. Jack Crawford’s protégé. The one before you. How does his face look?”
“I’ve never seen him.”
“This is called ‘cutting up a few old touches,’ Officer Starling, you don’t mind do you?”
Beats of silence and she plunged.
“Better than that, we could touch up a few old cuts here. I brought—”
“No. No, that’s stupid and wrong. Never use wit in a segue. Listen, understanding a witticism and replying to it makes your subject perform a fast, detached scan that is inimical to mood. It is on the plank of mood that we proceed. You were doing fine, you’d been courteous and receptive to courtesy, you’d established trust by telling the embarrassing truth about Miggs, and then you come in with a ham-handed segue into your questionnaire. It won’t do.”