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‘He was part of a group. Exchanging photos.’
Kirsty nodded. She’d seen the photos. ‘And what happened?’
‘One of the people gathering the photos. A Romanian nurse …’
‘Adriana Kisslinger?’
The CI looked puzzled. ‘How did you know that?’
‘I didn’t. I guess you just confirmed it, though. It was a line of enquiry.’
Holland looked for a moment as if he might press her on the matter but shrugged it off. Not his problem. ‘Anyway, she started blackmailing the group – a teacher, a social worker, a surgeon. Figured the surgeon in particular could be the jackpot.’
‘So, what – he killed them all?’
‘And then he killed himself.’
‘Guilt?’
‘Who knows?’ Holland gestured at the Japanese armour. ‘He was obviously a sick fantasist. Doubt we’ll ever really know what was going through his head. He says he was confronted with what he really was, according to his suicide note, and couldn’t deal with it any more.’
‘Very Japanese.’
The chief inspector nodded. ‘Looks like he was a big fan of the culture.’
‘And the fingers?’ asked DI James.
Holland shrugged. ‘No idea.’
‘Japanese again,’ said Kirsty Webb. ‘The Yakuza. They have a tradition of cutting off a finger if one of them does something wrong.’
‘You seem to know a lot about this stuff.’
Kirsty shook her head. ‘Only from films. Robert Mitchum was in a movie about it. Cut off half his finger in it.’
‘Seems particularly appropriate in this case, then,’ said the chief inspector.
‘Sir?’ asked DI James.
‘Kiddy-fiddlers,’ Holland said, anger sparking in his eyes. ‘It’s not all I’d cut off.’
Chapter 90
SUZY WAS LEANING against the wall by the door to the three girls’ apartment.
Tim Graham was sitting on the couch, holding a bloodied handkerchief to his nose. He was glaring at me.
‘You’re not going to get away with this.’
‘You threatening me, Tim?’ I asked.
‘I’m promising you.’
‘Because if you want Suzy here to …’
He shrank back into the sofa.
‘He didn’t want to wait to meet you, Dan. I had to persuade him.’
