Teresa nodded. Perhaps the body had never been buried because Andreas was not acquainted with the idea of religion, not even in a primitive sense. Or perhaps he still considered it a living being. A meal had recently been left at the skeleton’s feet: a piece of charred meat, pink on the inside, and some walnuts still in their shells.

“You will have noticed that someone has pierced holes into the bones and tied them together with fishing line,” said Parri.

“He was trying to piece it back together, to keep it intact for as long as possible,” said Teresa softly.

She did not feel any revulsion, but only a deep sorrow for the person who had done this, who had tried desperately to put those remains back together and bring them back to life. Someone whose understanding of life and death differed from theirs. Someone who, in his own way, and despite everything he had been made to suffer, had loved that child, and continued to love what was left of it in the world.

Teresa didn’t see anything morbid in this act, but interpreted it instead as a sign of devotion, the poignant expression of a need to keep the object of his enduring affections close. Where they saw only bones and broken remains, Andreas could still glimpse the spark of a fierce bond.

“Do you think he knew him well?” Parri asked.

Teresa looked at the coroner.

“He loved him. I’m certain he’s not the one who killed him. He tried to bring him back to life.”

“If it is true, as I believe it is, that the remains have always been left exposed to air and to moisture, the corpse must have decomposed much faster than it would have had it been buried,” the coroner resumed. “Bearing this in mind, and noting the absence of corpse wax and of desiccated fleshy tissue, I would estimate the passing to have taken place twenty to thirty years ago. But I won’t be able to provide you with a more exact timeframe until after the lab tests and x-rays.”

It had happened a long time ago, Teresa thought, perhaps too long to hope they might ever find out whose body it was.

“Can you tell me age and sex?” she asked.

“The forehead is flat, the pelvic cavity and the pubic angle are narrow. I’d say a Caucasian male. A young one.”

Teresa kept her eyes on the corpse.

“How young?”

“The second molars weren’t yet fully grown.”

She felt a wave of nausea rise to her throat. This confirmed what she’d been thinking the moment she’d set eyes on those bones. She had measured them in the time it had taken her to blink and had immediately realized the truth, her stomach cramping at the knowledge.