She and Ercole Benelli climbed from the small car and strode to a uniformed officer who was directing an underling to string yellow police tape around the perimeter. He seemed not the least surprised to see an American detective with a useless NYPD badge on her hip and a Beretta in her waistband, accompanied by a tall young officer in Forestry Corps grays. Apparently Rossi or Spiro had explained who they were and by what authority they were present.
After a brief conversation with the officer, in Italian, Ercole said to her, "He is saying that the victim was outside the fence, about there."
Sachs followed his finger and saw another improvised gate.
"The kidnapper approached from those bushes and there was a scuffle. In this case, though, he was able to get the hood over the victim's head and vanished. But more interesting and more helpful to us, I think: Someone came to the aid of the victim and fought with the Composer."
Ah, Sachs thought. Transfer of evidence.
"Was it a guard? Police? The person who fought?"
"No. It was the victim's wife."
"Wife?"
"Si. They were walking along those trees, the two of them. The Composer hit her, knocked her down. But she rose again and began fighting him. Her name is Fatima Jabril. The man taken was Khaled. They were recent arrivals."
The Scientific Police van arrived and the two officers exited the vehicle and began to robe. She recognized them from the prior scenes. They exchanged greetings.
Sachs too pulled on a Tyvek jumpsuit, booties and cap and gloves. Though there was no formal division of labor, the woman SP officer asked, through Ercole, if Sachs would work the main scene--where the struggle had occurred--while they took the secondary scene: the far side of a stand of magnolia and vegetation, where the Composer had parked his car and, presumably, lain in wait for the victim.
"Si," Sachs said. "Perfetto."
The woman smiled.
For a half hour, Sachs walked the grid, using the Italian number cards to mark spots for photography and collection of trace, including the trademark noose. She made one particularly good find in a bush beside a spot where people had clearly grappled: a Converse Con shoe--a low-top model.
When she was finished, the SP officers entered the scene and collected the trace, the noose and the shoe and then photographed and videoed around the numbers.
Outside the perimeter, Sachs stripped off the Tyvek and took the bottled water Ercole offered. "Thanks."
"Prego."
"I want to talk to the victim's wife," she said and downed the water, then wiped her face with her sleeve. Did it ever cool off here?
They went to the front of the camp, where--as she'd seen before--buses waited in line to discharge more refugees. They walked through the gate, and an armed soldier led them to a large trailer on which was a sign that read: Direttore.
Inside the cluttered office, which was--thank you--air-conditioned, a tired-looking brunette sat behind a desk, piled high with papers. She directed them to a door in the back. Sachs knocked and identified herself. She heard, "Come in."
She and Ercole entered and nodded to Rania Tasso. She was sitting with a dark-complexioned woman and an adorable child, a girl of about two years old. As the woman glanced at Ercole, her eyes widened and she quickly grabbed a cloth that rested on a chair beside her and covered her head.
Rania said, "This is Fatima Jabril." She added, "She's comfortable being uncovered before kaafir women, like me and you, but not before men."
"Should I leave?" Ercole asked.
"No," Rania said. "You can stay."
Sachs's impression from this exchange was that Rania was respectful of others' customs and beliefs but also insistent that they accept the protocols of their new home.
"Sit, please."
Fatima was attractive, with a long, narrow face--swollen and marred by a small bandage--and close-set dark eyes. She wore a long-sleeve, high-necked tunic and jeans, though her nails were polished bright red and she wore modest makeup. Her attention kept returning to her daughter and her eyes, otherwise piercing, softened when she looked at the girl. She asked something urgently in Arabic. Rania said to Sachs and Ercole, "She speaks some English but Arabic is better. She is, of course, worried about her husband. Have you learned anything?"
"No," Sachs said. "But since the kidnapping was successful, we don't think the man has hurt him, yet. Khaled is his name, right?"
"Yes." From Fatima herself.
Rania asked, "You say not killed him yet?"