Concerning the bodies Breavman lost. No detective will find them. He lost them in the condition of their highest beauty. They are:
a rat
a frog
a girl sleeping
a man on the mountain
the moon
You and I have our bodies, mutilated as they might be by time and memory. Breavman lost them in fire where they persist whole and perfect. This kind of permanence is no comfort to anyone. After many burnings they became faint constellations which controlled him as they turned in his own sky.
It might be said they were eaten by the Mosaic bush each of us grows in our heart but few of us cares to ignite.