Gabriel looked at Ravello and asked, “May I see the X-rays of the skull?”
The pathologist extracted three images from the file—one frontal, two lateral—and handed them over. Gabriel examined them at length with a practiced eye. As a young art student he had spent countless hours drawing human skeletons. Later he had learned how to draw skeletons inside his nudes or, conversely, nudesaroundhis skeletons. He was more than confident in his ability to produce a portrait that bore at least a passing resemblance to the woman of Northern European ethnicity whom he had found in the waters off Dorsoduro. It would, however, require him to spend a few moments with his subject.
“You mentioned something about a broken wrist.”
Dottore Ravello handed Gabriel another X-ray image. The fracture was clearly visible in the left radius. “How old was she when it happened?”
“Eight or nine, I’d say.”
The same age as Irene. “Is there anything else you can tell me about her?”
“She was wearing no jewelry other than a pendant.”
“What sort of pendant?”
“It’s in the pathology lab,” said Ravello. “Perhaps we should have a look at it.”
***
Gabriel followed the medical examiner down a flight of stairs to the basement level of the building. The lab was located behind a pair of locked doors. Only one of the three stainless-steel postmortem tables was occupied. The body was shrouded in white.
Ravello gently drew back the sheet, exposing the head and shoulders of the corpse. Gabriel was slow in looking down. The first thing he noticed was the significant gap between the two front teeth. She would have smiled, he thought, without parting her lips. Her remaining hair was shoulder length and the color of flax. Gabriel reckoned that her eyes had been pale blue.
“You had a look inside her lungs, I take it?”
“I’m afraid the sea scavengers didn’t leave me much to work with.”
“Was she a smoker?”
“I’d say not.”
“Pregnant?”
“No.”
“Health problems? Nasty habits?”
“Drugs or alcohol, you mean?” Ravello shook his head. “The remaining tissue of her liver looked normal. She was a good girl, this one. She didn’t deserve to end up like this.”
No one did, thought Gabriel, least of all the young woman stretched out before him. “May I see the pendant?” he asked.
It was zipped into a plastic evidence bag, a circular, gold-plated rendering of a male hand reaching toward an outstretched finger. Gabriel recognized it at once. It was the iconic image from Michelangelo’s ceiling fresco in the Sistine Chapel, the instant that Godimparted the spark of life into Adam. The engraving on the back of the pendant indicated that it had been purchased at a gift shop in the Vatican Museums.
Gabriel photographed both sides of the pendant before returning it to Ravello. “I need to touch her.”
The pathologist opened a cabinet and removed a pair of flesh-colored autopsy gloves. Gabriel pulled them on, then said, “Please leave the room, Dottore.”
“That body is evidence in a criminal investigation. I must remain with you at all times.”
“Five minutes,” said Gabriel.
The pathologist emitted a sigh of resignation, then started toward the door.
“Dottore Ravello?”
He paused.
“Turn off the lights on your way out.”
