‘As far as the crime scene itself goes, the killer or killers not only removed all trace of their handiwork, but led us to the basement of that residence.
‘In short, we’re being led around by the nose here, which means there’s something else entirely going on. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it getting ready to bite us on the arse!’
‘I’ll need more than a feeling,’ Lorne cautioned, patiently.
‘Right, well, how’s this? Archie Skinner was sort of a cross between a derelict and a genius, they tell me. He was schizophrenic, had a difficult time managing his affairs, which explains why he lived in a rooming house where the domestic chores were taken care of.
‘But in his other life he was a fairly well-known photographer, at least in certain circles. His specialty was a sort of film noir look at the dark side of childhood. I’ve seen a bit of his work, and to say it’s unsettling would be an understatement. He was able to photographically simulate deep-rooted adult fears through the eyes of children. The children in his pictures are dressed up in austere adult period costume, and have this cold, otherworldly look about them, and a maturity far beyond their years. It’s a trick of the makeup, I suppose. And there’s a dimension I can only characterise as Evil . . . they appear more dead than alive, more spiritual and ethereal than flesh and blood.