“You have my sympathy,” Tanaka said, but not as if he meant it. “Let’s get back to what happened. You picked up his leash. .”

“Yeah, I picked up his leash and went out to look for him.”

“But not right away?”

“No. I told you. I had lunch first. A man’s got to eat, doesn’t he? Didn’t take long. Maybe twenty minutes, that’s all.”

“Go on.”

“So there I am, walking around, walking around, for the next four hours or so, and then, just before dark, I hear him barking.”

“And you knew it was your dog because. .”

“It’s not my dog. It’s Senhor Manfredo’s dog. And I knew it was The Mop because The Mop’s bark is different. You heard it. He sounds like he’s hoarse or something. Like some guy who just walked out of a stadium, somebody who screamed so much he lost his voice.”

Tanaka smiled politely, as if it were the first time Hans had made the comparison.

It wasn’t.

“So, like I said, I followed the sound, found the path, came into this field, and found him chewing on that bone. He only let me take it out of his mouth because he thought I was gonna throw it for him.”

“So then you. .”

“Took one look at the skull, put the leash on him, got the hell out of here, and called you guys.”

Tanaka nodded and addressed Gilda.

“I decided to leave it until morning,” he said. “Can you imagine trying to find this place in the dark?”

Gilda shook her head and stood.

“We’re on a incline,” she said. “The grave wasn’t deep. She was probably uncovered by erosion.”

“She?” Tanaka sounded surprised. “A woman?”

“Probably.”

Gilda pointed to the black hair still clinging to the skull. It was long, unlikely to be a man’s.

“She’s been here for quite some time,” she said. “Hardly any flesh left at all.”