Chapters (47)
- Epigraph
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Chapter 40
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- By the Same Author
- Copyright
- About the Publisher
‘And then the doctors and nurses. Not ignorant peasants, educated people. People like you and me. People who went into this line of work presumably because they had some desire to heal the sick. But an edict went out from on high and suddenly they stopped being healers and started being torturers and murderers. I mean, how can you get your head round that? I’ve never had a problem understanding the self-deception involved in being a concentration camp guard. When you feel vulnerable, demonizing some outsider grouping like Jews or gypsies or communists isn’t such a big step for most of us. But these were German children. Most of the people who destroyed their lives were probably parents themselves. How could they dissociate what they were doing for a living from their own domestic lives? For some of them at least, it must have wrecked their heads.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m good at empathy. I’m good at feeling the pain of people who can only function by transferring their own pain on to other people. But I’m damned if I can find a shred of pity for anybody who was involved in committing the acts I’ve read about today.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ Carol said. ‘I shouldn’t have brought you into this.’
He forced a tired smile. ‘No need to apologize. But, if I’m right, and our killer is a victim at one remove from what happened in those so-called hospitals, then I’ve got to say, he’s not the only one who’s to blame. The people who really carry the responsibility for these murders are way beyond the reach of our justice.’
In the street below, Radovan Matic couldn’t believe his eyes. He’d spent a boring evening outside Tadeusz Radecki’s apartment block, fully expecting to be there till the early hours at least. No red-blooded male would let a woman like that leave his apartment without giving her one. And from everything his Uncle Darko had said about Radecki, the man was no monk. He’d been mildly surprised when Radecki’s familiar black Mercedes had pulled up outside the building just after ten o’clock, and astonished when Caroline Jackson had emerged alone a few minutes later.
He’d followed the Merc back to her place, and been lucky enough to find a parking space directly opposite as she walked inside. He decided to wait until he saw her light come on, then call his uncle in the hope he’d be allowed to go home to bed. Rado got out of his car and moved into the shadows of a florist’s doorway so he could better see the apartment block.