Postmortem

“The dead are defenseless, and the violation of this woman, like the others, had only begun. I knew it would not end until Lori Petersen was turned inside out, every inch of her photographed, and all of it on display for experts, the police, attorneys, judges and members of a jury to see.”

The series of serial murders in the narrative, including the murder of Lori Petersen, reflects the theme of Misogyny and Violence Against Women. This passage makes that connection explicit by describing how the investigation of Lori’s death is itself a “violation of this woman, like all the others.”

“The rapidly alternating darkness and light were dizzying, and the only way I could maintain my equilibrium was to channel my concentration into one thought at a time, as if I, like the laser beam, was in phase, too—all of me in sync with what I was doing, the sum of my mental energy coalesced into a single wavelength.”

Cornwell uses figurative language to draw a connection between Scarpetta’s work and her identity. The simile “as if I, like the laser beam, was in phase, too” highlights how Scarpetta is subsumed into her rigorous focus on work. She is literally laser-focused on what she has to do.

“The dead have never bothered me. It is the living I fear.”

This pithy phrase is representative of Scarpetta’s matter-of-fact, scientific approach to her work. She is not emotional or sentimental about death, like many people might be. Instead, she is practical and only fears that which might actually hurt her.

“His eyes smiled in triumph. I was familiar with the look, which I had expected. It said, ‘So there, Ms. Chief. So maybe you got book-learning, but me, I know the street.’”

Scarpetta and Marino have a tense relationship, summarized in this passage. Their relationship is exemplary of the theme Procedural Rigor Versus Intuition, or “book-learning” versus “the street.” The sarcastic emphasis on “Ms. Chief,” particularly the use of the more modern “Ms.” rather than “Mrs.” or “Miss,” is representative of Scarpetta’s suspicions that Marino does not like her because she is an independent woman in a position of power.

“Point is, Doc, I’ve been around the block more than once. And Petersen’s setting off the same alarm toads like Andretti and Phil did. He’s giving me this performance, I’m sitting there and asking myself, ‘What’s this Harvard highbrow think? I’m a bimbo or what?’”

Marino is a hard-boiled New York police detective, and his use of colorful idiomatic language reflects this background. For instance, he says that Petersen set off his “alarm toads,” rather than just “alarms.” He also uses rhetorical questions in a way typical of a New Yorker: “I’m a bimbo or what?”

“I was a small insect faced with a formidable male network web in which I might be ensnared but never a part.”

This quote is illustrative of Scarpetta’s feelings about the misogyny she faces in her professional life. She uses the metaphor of being a “small insect” caught in the spider’s web of the “male network” to describe her sense of powerlessness and isolation.

“This was the most difficult and time-consuming part of the investigation—profiling the killer, profiling the victims, and then profiling the killer again.

Wesley was describing him. This was what he did best, and quite often was uncannily accurate when he read the emotion of a crime scene, which in these cases was cold, calculating rage.”

A focus of the narrative is The Psychology of Serial Killers and how it connects to his criminal actions. Postmortem treats criminal profiling as a scientific pursuit not dissimilar to gathering material evidence, as shown in describing the process as “uncannily accurate.”

“I’d heard these cop sob stories a thousand times before. The guy’s only advantage in life is he’s big and white, so he makes himself bigger and whiter by carrying a gun and a badge.”

Scarpetta is not entirely supportive of the police, as she feels their misogyny and other prejudices lead them away from the procedural rigor that she highly values. Her negative characterization of Marino here is reflective of that sentiment.

“‘Well, I hate to tell you, but DNA’s not worth a tinker’s damn unless they catch somebody.’

‘Not until we reach the enlightened age where genetic prints are stored in a central data base like fingerprint records,’ I muttered.

‘Will never happen as long as the ACLU has a thing to say about it.’”

This exchange between Scarpetta and Betty, the lab technician, is representative of the tension between criminal investigations and personal freedoms. Although Scarpetta wishes there was a central DNA database, such a database would infringe on civil liberties, and as such, groups like the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) would oppose its creation.

“Cagney did not have my worries, and there were times when I felt haunted by the spirit of the predecessor I had never met, a reminder of a power and invulnerability I would never have. In an unchivalrous world he was an unchivalrous knight who wore his position like a panache, and I think a part of me envied him.”

Scarpetta reflects on the misogyny and male chauvinism that characterize the “good ole boys club” that defines the leadership of the city of Richmond. She recognizes that were she a man, she would have greater access to this group, even as she acknowledges that their pretense of chivalry is just a cover for their toxic masculinity.

“Her murder was preventable. It could have been stopped!

Had the call been given a priority one, had it immediately been dispatched over the air, an officer would have responded within minutes.”

The revelation that Lori Petersen’s murder could have been prevented had the police done their job properly is the motive for Amburgey’s attempts to professionally undermine Scarpetta. He hopes that if the media is focused on Scarpetta’s purported failings, they will not focus on the police’s failures to protect women. She is seen as an easy scapegoat as a woman in a position of power.

“What would the reporters—what would anybody—think when they were told they were being referred to the commissioner for information that historically had come from my agency? In the forty-two-year history of the Virginia medical examiner system, this had never happened. By gagging me it would appear I’d been relieved of my authority because I couldn’t be trusted.”

This passage illustrates how Scarpetta, as the first female chief medical examiner in Richmond, faces professional scrutiny from her colleagues and the public due to her gender. The rhetorical question underlines her growing sense of distress at being undermined.

“‘The problem is he’s a physician by training,’ I was saying to Bill. ‘He knows just enough to think he’s an expert in forensic medicine, to think he can run my office better than I can, and a lot of his opinions are flat-out full of shit.’

‘Which you make the mistake of pointing out to him.’

‘What am I supposed to do? Agree and look as incompetent.’”

Scarpetta’s exchange with Bill Boltz illustrates the impossible situation the institutional misogyny she faces puts her in: If she accepts Amburgey’s subpar work, she will be punished for doing a poor job, but if she contradicts him, she will be blamed for undermining him. Boltz’s lack of understanding about this in describing Scarpetta’s decision as a “mistake” rather than supporting her illustrates how he is part of this institutional culture.

“His hunger was too much. It exploded from him, invaded instead of caressed as he pushed me down hard into the couch. It was at that moment I had a vivid image of his wife slumped against pale blue satin pillows in bed like some lovely life-size doll, the front of her white negligee stained dark red, the nine millimeter automatic just inches from her limp right hand.”

Cornwell uses imagery with an emphasis on color to illustrate the visceral horror of the scene of Boltz’s wife’s death. She notes the “blue satin pillows” and “white negligee stained with dark red” to create a classic melodramatic Southern noir scene. The vivid imagery in this moment contrasts strongly with the clinical language used throughout the novel to describe technical forensic processes.

“‘Why her?’ I asked. ‘Of all the women in the world, why this one?’

He briefly considered this. ‘She sets something off in me.’

‘Because of the way she looks?’

He was still thinking. ‘Maybe. But maybe it’s her attitude. She’s a working woman. Got a pretty nice crib, meaning she’s smart enough to earn a decent living. Sometimes career women are snooty. Maybe I didn’t like the way she treated me. Maybe she assaulted my masculinity, like I’m not good enough for her or something.’”

Marino uses a speculative first-person perspective to put himself in the mind of the murderer. In so doing, he draws a connection between the murderer’s motives and Marino’s own misogyny. He speculates that the killer felt like the women made him feel like “I’m not good enough for her,” which could just as easily describe Marino’s feelings toward Scarpetta.

“Now the cops were no longer supposed to talk to me. It wouldn’t end until I had been turned into the scapegoat for all the atrocities caused by these murders.”

This reflection on Scarpetta being used as a “scapegoat for all the atrocities” is an example of irony. Even though it is a man, a serial killer, who is committing heinous acts, it is Scarpetta who is being blamed for them, illustrating how misogynistic societies shift the blame for men’s actions onto women.

“Lawyers would love it. Good God, would they love it. They’d have a jury doubting any of the samples were Lori’s, including the tubes of blood. They’d have a jury wondering if the samples sent to New York for DNA testing were the right ones. Who was to say that they weren’t from some other dead body?”

This passage is an example of how the procedural rigor that Scarpetta values is not just a mark of her professionalism but also essential to the prosecution of a case. Any small error could result in a criminal being exonerated if the defense lawyers find fault in her method. This repetition in the first two sentences of the passage expresses Scarpetta’s sense of fear and anxiety about possible errors.

“These strangling cases were the most difficult of my career, and I was gripped by the fear I was becoming too caught up in them. Maybe I was losing my rational, methodical way of doing things. Maybe I was making mistakes.”

Scarpetta is being convinced by Amburgey that she is “losing” her mind after he plants the evidence in her lab. It is a classic example of the practice of gaslighting, or making someone believe things that aren’t real through deception and then characterizing them as incompetent or “crazy” when they try to describe what is happening.

“She wasn’t wearing makeup. She carried no tape recorder or notepad, just a canvas tote bag. Her wide eyes were riveted to the bed, her face twisted by terror.

‘God, no!’ As she placed her hand over her open mouth.

‘It’s her, then,’ Marino said in a low voice.”

This dramatic scene, when Abby Turnbull identifies her sister Henna as the latest victim of the serial killer, is an example of melodrama. The passage uses heightened descriptive language, such as “her face was twisted by terror,” to create a sense of pathos, or sympathy, for the character.

“‘I can’t help but think I’m an easy mark because I’m a woman.’

‘You’re a woman in a man’s world,’ Fortosis replied. ‘You’ll always be considered an easy mark until the ole boys discover you have teeth. And you do have teeth.’ He smiled. ‘Make sure they know it.’”

Dr. Fortosis is one of the few people to whom Scarpetta feels comfortable opening up about the toll the misogyny she faces in the workplace takes on her. Their exchange humanizes Scarpetta’s character and shows that although she outwardly acts tough, she experiences self-doubt and insecurity.

“If the killer has this chronic odor, it wouldn’t be the least bit unusual for him to be compulsive about washing his armpits, his face and hands, frequently throughout the day while he’s exposed to people who might notice his problem. He might be washing himself while at work, where there might be a dispenser of borax soap in the men’s room.”

This passage illustrates how Scarpetta’s rigorous forensic testing yields insights that are essential to the investigation. The language in this passage, as in others describing her forensic analyses, is more realistic and straightforward than the language found in dramatic scenes.

“We told him all five women definitely had one thing in common. Their voices.”

The use of the incomplete sentence, “their voices,” at the end of this quote is used to underscore the importance of the revelation that the women all had distinctive, attractive voices. This break in the case helps lead to the identification of the suspect; instead of finding his victims by sight, which they all assumed, he has found them by their voices.

“Don’t. I’m a person. A person! I can talk to you! You have to let me talk to you!

Fragmented speeches. Unspoken. Useless. I was imprisoned by silence. Please don’t touch me. Oh, God, don’t touch me.”

Throughout the novel, Scarpetta’s internal dialogue has been articulate and thoughtful. Her thoughts here in a moment of panic when she is under attack are distinctly different: They are disjointed, repetitive, and almost incoherent. Her feeling of being “imprisoned by silence” is representative of her vulnerability in this moment when she cannot speak up to protect herself.