Lorraine Stephenson had called him at ten minutes to four. By four twenty he had walked the several blocks from his hotel to George Washington University Hospital. At four twenty-five he was in the hospital's medical staff office talking to the woman behind the desk. Once again his experience as a homicide detective served him well. Doctors who regularly work at a hospital are registered with that institution's medical board and their personal records are kept on file in the medical staff office. Because she had visited Caroline at University Hospital, Marten expected Dr. Stephenson would have formal medical privileges there and consequently her personal records would be on file in the medical staff office. Assuming that, he'd simply told the woman at the desk that Dr. Stephenson had been recommended to him as a possible family physician and he would like some professional information about her-where she had gone to medical school, done her residency, that kind of thing. In response the woman had brought Stephenson's file up on her computer screen. As she did, Marten looked around the room and saw a large box of facial tissues on a filing cabinet several feet behind her. Stifling a sneeze and saying he had caught a cold in the rainy weather, he asked if he might have a tissue. It took the woman ten seconds to get up from her desk and walk with her back to him to retrieve the box of tissues.