'I may need to speak to you again,' Bontrager added. 'Would that be okay?'
The girl nodded.
'On behalf of my colleagues, and the entire Philadelphia Police Department, I would like to thank you very much for your time,' Bon- trager said.
Emily glanced from Jessica to Byrne, back to Bontrager. 'You're welcome.'
'Ich winsch dir en hallich, frehlich, glicklich Nei Yaahr,' Bontrager said.
Emily smiled, smoothed her hair. To Jessica, she looked rather smitten with Detective Joshua Bontrager. 'Gott segen eich,' Emily replied.
The girl closed the door. Bontrager put away his notebook, smoothed his tie. 'Well,' he said. 'Where to next?'
'What language was that?' Jessica asked.
'It was Pennsylvania Dutch. Which is mostly German.'
'Why did you speak to her in Pennsylvania Dutch?' Byrne asked.
'Well, for one thing, that girl was Amish.'
Jessica glanced up at the front window. Emily Miller was watching them through the parted curtains. Somehow she had managed to quickly run a brush through her hair. So she was smitten after all.
'How could you tell?' Byrne asked.
Bontrager thought about his answer for a moment. 'You know how you can look at someone on the street and just know they're wrong?'
Both Jessica and Byrne knew what he meant. It was a sixth sense wired into police officers worldwide. 'Yeah.'
'Same thing with Amish folks. You just know. Besides, I saw a pineapple quilt on the couch in the living room. I know Amish quilting.'
'What is she doing in Philly?' Jessica asked.
'Hard to say. She was wearing English clothes. She's either left the church, or she's on rumspringa.'
'What is rumspringa?' Byrne asked.
'Long story,' Bontrager said. 'We'll get to it later. Maybe over a buttermilk colada.' He winked and smiled. Jessica looked at Byrne. Score one for the Amish kid.
As they walked back to the car, Jessica ran the questions. Besides the obvious-who killed Kristina Jakos and why, three others loomed.
One: Where was she between the time she left the All-City Launderette and the time she was placed on that riverbank? Two: Who called 911?
Three: Who was standing across the street from the Laundromat?
16
The medical examiner's office was on University Avenue. When Jessica and Byrne returned to the Roundhouse they had a message from Dr. Tom Weyrich. It was marked Urgent.
They met in the main autopsy theater. It was Josh Bontrager's first time. His face was the color of cigar ash.
Tom Weyrich was on the phone when Jessica, Byrne, and Bontrager arrived. He handed Jessica a folder, held up a finger. The folder contained the preliminary autopsy findings. Jessica scanned the report: The body is that of a normally developed white female measuring sixty-six inches and weighing 112 pounds. Her general appearance is consistent with the recorded age of twenty-four years. Livor mortis is present. Eyes are open. The irises are blue and corneas are cloudy. Pe- techial hemorrhaging is present in the conjuc- tiva bilaterally. There is a ligature mark on the neck below the mandible.
Weyrich hung up the phone. Jessica handed him back the report. 'So she was strangled,' she said.
'Yes.'
'And that was the cause of death?'
'Yes,' Weyrich said. 'But she was not strangled with the nylon belt found around her neck.'
'So what was it?'
'She was strangled by a much narrower ligature. A polypropylene rope. Definitely from behind.' Weyrich pointed to a photograph of the V-shaped ligature mark made at the back of the victim's neck. 'This is not high enough to indicate hanging. I believe it was done manually. The killer stood behind her as she sat, wrapped the ligature once around, and pulled up.'
'What about the rope itself?'
'At first I thought it was a standard three-strand polypropylene. But the lab has pulled a pair of fibers. One blue, one white. Presumptively it was of a type that has been treated to resist chemicals, probably floatable. There's a good chance it is a swim-lane-type rope.'
Jessica had never heard the term. 'You mean the kind of rope they use in pools to separate the lanes?' she asked.
'Yes,' Weyrich said. 'It's strong, made of a low-stretch fiber.'
'So why was there another belt tied around her neck?' Jessica asked.
'Can't help you there. Perhaps to conceal the ligature mark for aesthetic reasons. Perhaps it means something. The lab has the belt now.'
'Any word on it?'
'It's old.'
'How old?'
'Maybe forty or fifty years or so. The composition of the fibers has begun to break down due to use and age and weather. They are getting a lot of different substances from the fiber.'
'Like what?
'Sweat, blood, sugar, salt.'
Byrne flicked a glance at Jessica.
'Her nails are in pretty good shape,' Weyrich continued. 'We've swabbed them anyway. No scratches or bruises.'
'What about her feet?' Byrne asked. As of that morning, the missing body parts had not been recovered. The marine unit would be diving in the river near the crime scene later that day, but even with their sophisticated gear, it would be slow going. The water in the Schuylkill was frigid.
'Her feet were amputated postmortem with a sharp serrated instrument. There is some shattering of the bone, so I don't believe it was a surgical saw.' He pointed to an extreme close-up of the cut. 'It's more likely to have been a carpenter's saw. We pulled some trace from the area. Lab believes it was wood fragments. Mahogany perhaps.'
'So you're saying that the saw was used in some sort of woodworking project before it was used on the victim?'
'All preliminary, but that sounds about right.'
'And none of this was done at the scene?'
'Presumptively, no,' Weyrich said. 'But she was definitely dead when it happened. Thank God.'
Jessica made her notes, a little taken aback. A carpenter's saw.
'There's more,' Weyrich said.
There's always more, Jessica thought. Whenever you step into the world of a psychopath, there is always more.
Tom Weyrich pulled down the sheet. Kristina Jakos's body was colorless. Her musculature was already breaking down. Jessica remembered how graceful and strong she had looked on the videotape at the church. How alive.
'Look at this.' Weyrich indicated a spot on the victim's abdomen, a glossy whitish area about the size of a fifty-cent piece.
