‘Please yourself. I’m not in any hurry. Me, I’ll go back home, take a nice hot bath, get a good night’s sleep. Then I’ll come back here and see what kind of an evening you’ve had. Well, what can I say? They don’t call this place Grey Misery for nothing.’

‘All right, all right,’ he groaned. ‘Go ahead and ask your lousy questions.’

‘We searched your room.’

‘Like it?’

‘Not as much as the bugs you share with. We found some rope. My inspector thinks it’s the special strangling kind you buy at Ka-De-We. On the other hand it could be the kind you use to tie someone up.’

‘Or it could be the sort of rope I use in my job. I work for Rochling’s Furniture Removals.’

‘Yes, I checked. But why take a length of rope home with you? Why not just leave it in the van?’

‘I was going to hang myself.’

‘What changed your mind?’

‘I thought about it awhile, and then things didn’t seem quite so bad. That was before I met you.’

‘What about the bloodstained cloth we found in a bag underneath your bed?’

‘That? Menstrual blood. An acquaintance of mine, she had a small accident. I meant to burn it, but I forgot.’

‘Can you prove that? Will this acquaintance corroborate your story?’

‘Unfortunately I can’t tell you very much about her, Kommissar. A casual thing, you understand.’ He paused. ‘But surely there are scientific tests which will substantiate what I say?’

‘Tests will determine whether or not it is human blood. But I don’t think there’s anything as precise as you are suggesting. I can’t say for sure, I’m not a pathologist.’

I stood up again and went over to the window. I found my cigarettes and lit one.

‘Smoke?’ He nodded and I threw the packet on to the table. I let him get his first breath of it before I tossed him the grenade. ‘I’m investigating the murders of four, possibly five young girls,’ I said quietly. ‘That’s why you’re here now. Assisting us with our inquiries, as they say.’

Gottfried stood up quickly, his tongue tamping down his lower lip, the cigarette rolling on the table where he had thrown it. He started to shake his head and didn’t stop.

‘No, no, no. No, you’ve got the wrong man. I know absolutely nothing of this. Please, you’ve got to believe me. I’m innocent.’

‘What about that girl you raped in Dresden, in 1931? You were in the cement for that, weren’t you, Gottfried? You see, I’ve checked your record.’

‘It was statutory rape. The girl was under age, that’s all. I didn’t know. She consented.’