them before she died. He couldn't be sure, but 'eyes and mouth appear closed after death.' 'Rigor mortis appears cause of shift of body' onto her right side — from flat on her back, hands clasped by her chest.
'Cotton, probably tampons, in each nostril, will verify whether same in anus and vagina and-'
'Excuse me, I don't mean to interrupt,' Andreas said, startled, 'but aren't you surprised at finding tampons in her nose? And what's this about looking for 'same in anus and vagina'?'
The coroner did not look away from the body. 'I both am and am not surprised. I'm surprised at finding it here, but not in a dead body.' He was talking in riddles — like an academic lecturer.
Andreas hated the type but knew they were necessary. 'Do me a favor, just tell me what the fuck you're talking about.'
The coroner looked at Tassos.
'Costas, please tell the man what he wants to know.' Tassos spoke like a man used to being in charge.
Without changing his tone, the coroner said, 'Greeks bury their dead immediately and without embalming, but there is a viewing. In order to keep bodily fluids from leaking into the casket, cotton is shoved…'
Andreas knew about that part.
'These days, instead of cotton, tampons often are used. How many depends upon the size of the orifice.'
'What about the throat and ears?' Andreas asked.
'Not in the ears, and the throat would depend upon the Cause of death, but generally not. In this body, I saw nothing in the throat.'
'Are you saying she was prepared for burial?' asked Andreas.
'From the position of her feet together, hands clasped at the chest — though hers actually are bound to the body just below the chest — eyes and mouth shut, I'd say yes, with one distinct difference.'
'What's that?' He'd play along with the professor.
'I'm virtually certain this was done while she was alive.'
'Sort of like a ritual.' It was Tassos' investigator. He seemed to be showing off for the crowd. Andreas had better tell Tassos to shut him up. But he didn't have to.
'That will be enough of that sort of talk — from you and anyone else.' Tassos stared at the faces around the crypt, the tone of his warning unequivocally menacing. 'Costas, how long before you'll have forensics back on this?'
'How quickly do you want them?'
Tassos didn't respond, just stared at him.
Costas spoke quickly, nervously. 'I'll call Syros and have them ready to start as soon as we get back with the body.'
'And the bones?' added Tassos.
'Yes, of course. I'll have something for you by tomorrow.'
'What do you think the chances are of a quick ID on the body?' Andreas' question was directed to the coroner, but Tassos answered in a tone Andreas knew was meant to make clear he was in charge of the forensic side of this investigation.
'I doubt she's local, but even if she is, depends on whether she's reported as missing. If not, as soon as we get Costas' results we'll check with Athens, and' — he was shaking his head — 'probably the rest of the world, to get an ID on this one.'
Andreas knew the most they could hope for was that someone somewhere had reported her missing because if no one cared enough to file a missing-person report, there was virtually no chance — outside of luck — of identifying her. Andreas couldn't imagine any police force in the world starting an investigation into a 'do you know this body' request without — at the very least — knowing it somehow tied in to their jurisdiction. Each had too many of its own problems to deal with.
'Sounds to me like we should start looking at this end.' Andreas was claiming his territory.
Tassos smiled. 'I can just imagine all the screaming phone calls you'll be getting once you start flashing photographs of a dead body around Mykonos at the height of the tourist season.'
Andreas smiled back. 'I thought I'd put up posters along Matogianni Street with her picture and your telephone number.'
Tassos laughed and shook his head. 'Mykonos and its politics shall be all yours on this one, my friend.'
Territories were settled. They smiled at each other.
'May I get back to work?' asked the coroner.
'Yes,' said Tassos, 'and be sure you're your usual, thorough self. We need to know everything about how this woman died ASAP — and who she is.'
Andreas wondered who else might want to know. Schuyler was right. Catia was relieved to know Annika was in Greece. But that made her a bit angry. Not at her daughter, at her relatives. How could they not have called and told her they'd seen Annika? Then again, how were they to know she hadn't spoken with her daughter in weeks? She took a deep breath and told herself to relax. She'd call Greece, and her relatives would find Annika. Quite a crowd had gathered at the bottom of the hill. An ambulance winding its way through Mykonos back roads was irresistible to the locals. It meant someone was ill, injured, or dead, and they wanted to know who. Andreas' officers were asking questions of everyone who stopped, but that didn't discourage a soul. The crowd knew by now there was a dead body in the church at the top of the hill and everyone was staying to watch it all. Cell phones were blaring out the news. Andreas always was amazed how fast word gets out. He wondered how it happened this time.
He just hoped Tassos could keep his men from any more mention of rituals. He had to be careful about that sort of talk from his own cops too. All it took was one trying to impress someone and all of Greece would be shouting 'ritual murder on Mykonos.'
Come to think of it, he was surprised an Athens TV crew wasn't here by now. There always seemed to be at least one somewhere on Mykonos during the tourist season. TV viewers loved stuff knocking sexy, upscale places filled with rich people, especially on Mykonos. A murdered body being hauled down a hill out of an old Mykonos church was just the sort of story they'd run over and over again — not the kind of TV coverage Andreas was hoping after less than a month on the job.
Perhaps he'd get lucky and they'd be off catching live celebrity bodies on a beach somewhere and this dead one would be down the hill and off the island before they could film it. That's when he realized that most of the people on that road probably had cell phones with cameras — some even take video. Damn technology. He decided to leave the rest of the forensic examination to Tassos. He'd let the crowd know anyone using a cell phone camera would be arrested for interfering with a police investigation. Who knew — maybe the threat would actually work. It was worth a try.
The walk down was a lot easier than the climb up, but he took it slow. He wanted another glimpse of nature's take on blissful eternity after the time he'd just spent inside with the grim here and now. He looked straight up at the sky: bright blue, running off to almost white where it met the sea. It reminded him of the day of his father's funeral, on that hillside north of Athens. He hadn't thought of that day in years. He had only been eight. It must have been Tassos' mention of his father that brought it back. He shook his head and tried to think other thoughts.
When he reached the road he called his men together and told them what he wanted done about the cell phones; then he asked if their questioning had turned up anything interesting. Not really. He decided to talk to some of the curious personally — starting with the two men in the black Fiat.
The two had learned their lesson, or at least had enough sense to act as if they had. Both were very respectful to the chief of police. One was Alex's cousin and the other his friend. They said all three worked for the same contractor and, after Alex found the body, he first called the police on his mobile and then his cousin. They couldn't find the place until they heard the sirens and followed the police cars.
Andreas wondered how many others Alex had called. At least now he knew how word got out about a body in the church.
The guy in the gray Grand Cherokee was the contractor they worked for. He'd been sitting in it since he got there, running the air conditioner and watching. Andreas crossed in front of the Jeep and walked to the driver's door. The contractor never turned to look at him, just kept staring up the mountain as if Andreas wasn't there. Andreas knocked on the window with the back of his hand. The contractor still didn't turn to look, just pressed the
