“In these photographs, I first show Rudy still in the car, then after we’ve peeled him off and removed him, then a shot through the springs to show what fell through from his pockets: intact steel keys, kopecks melted with floor trash, hardware from the seat, including what was left of our transmitter. The tapes burned, of course, if there ever was anything on them. In the first photographs you’ll notice that I have circled in red a flash mark on the sidewall by the clutch.” She had indeed, right by the charred shinbones and shoes of Rudy Rosen’s legs. “Around the flash mark were traces of red sodium and copper sulfate, consistent with an explosive incendiary device. Since there are no remains of a timer or fuse, I assume it was a bomb designed to ignite on contact. There was also gasoline.”

“From when the tank blew,” Jaak said.

Arkady drew a stick figure in the car and, with a red pen, a circle around the stick feet. “What about Rudy?”

“Flesh in that condition is as hard as wood, and at the same time bones break as soon as you cut. It’s hard enough to pick the clothes off. I brought you this.” From a plastic bag Polina produced a newly buffed garnet and a hard puddle of gold, what was left of Rudy’s ring. The cool pride on her face reminded Arkady of the sort of cat that brings mice to its owner.

“You checked his teeth?”

“Here’s a chart. The gold ran and I haven’t found it, but there are signs of a filling in the second lower molar. This is all preliminary to a complete autopsy, of course.”

“Thank you.”

“Just one thing,” she added. “There’s too much blood.”

“Rudy was probably pretty cut up,” Jaak said.

Polina said, “People who are burning to death don’t explode. They’re not sausages. I found blood everywhere.”

Arkady squirmed. “Maybe the assailant was cut.”

“I sent samples to the lab to check the blood type.”

“Good idea.”

“You’re welcome.” Chin up, contemptuous from then on of the proceedings, she even sat just like a cat.

Jaak diagrammed the market on the brownboard, showing the relative positions of Rudy’s car, Kim, the line of customers, then, at a distance of twenty meters, the truck with VCRs. A second grouping was arranged in a loose orbit of ambulance, computer salesman, caviar van; then more space and half an orbit that included Gypsy jewelers, rockers, rug merchants, the Zhiguli.

“It was a big night. With Chechens there we’re lucky the whole place didn’t erupt.” Jaak stared at the board. “Our only witness states that Kim killed Rudy. At first I found it hard to believe, but looking at who was actually close enough to throw a bomb, it makes sense.”

“This is from a memory of what you saw in the confusion in the dark?” Polina asked.