“Not yet,” said Sam. “Once we’ve got our reinforcement personnel from Silsford, which should be within the hour, we’ll be interviewing everyone who’s ever publicly expressed antipathy toward Damon Blundy. It’s going to take a while. That same circumcision column that Gibbs quoted from ended with Blundy asking how readers would feel if he hacked off the earlobe of the little girl who lived next door to him and justified it by claiming it was a sacrifice to a goblin living on a cloud that only Blundy could see. The girl’s mother took exception and sold a hatchet-job-from-next-door-neighbor’s-point-of-view on Blundy to the Mail, accusing him of leading a promiscuous and debauched lifestyle, which he happily admitted to—this was after ex-wife number two and before he married Hannah.”

“So stick the little girl’s mother on the list,” said Proust. “Who else? Any family? I’m not pinning my hopes on Rabbi Fedder or Bryn Gilligan. Both strike me as bland and ineffectual from what I’ve seen of them on TV. Damon Blundy’s murderer might be insane but certainly isn’t bland.”

“Blundy’s parents and three sisters all live in South Africa and were all in Johannesburg when Blundy was killed, going about their normal business.” Sellers answered the question Proust had forgotten he’d asked. “Relations were strained. Blundy’s parents had all but disowned him, by the sound of it.”

“Why?” Gibbs asked.

“No dramatic reason,” said Sellers. “They just didn’t like him, and he didn’t like them.”

“Simon said something interesting about the killer’s character,” said Sam.

“Has the commercial break finished, Sergeant? Is this Part Two of the tribute program?”

“Sir, I think it’s worth repeating. I can’t remember Simon’s exact words, but—”

“And you’re willing to risk paraphrasing? Won’t all the magic be lost in translation?”

“Most murder scenes reveal either cold, preplanned detachment or spontaneous chaotic passion,” Sam persisted. “This one’s a mixture of the two—lots of planning involved, enough detachment to think about logistics and . . . image management, for want of a better term, but also, without a doubt, strong feelings. Whoever killed Blundy was passionate about him.”

“According to Waterhouse,” Proust added the qualifier Sam had omitted.

“And to me,” Sam said with uncharacteristic firmness. “It makes sense. Simon thinks whoever did it has difficulty openly expressing his or her emotions. So, feels things deeply, but is also a control freak with years of experience of preventing unmanageable feelings from spilling out. A bottler-up. Someone who wouldn’t let passion emerge unchecked, but would craft it into something safe, structured and anonymous. He both wants us to know how he feels and doesn’t, so he conveys his message cryptically, half hoping we’ll guess, half hoping we won’t.”

“That sounds consistent with the Damon Blundy murder scene to me,” Gibbs said.