by Joy Ellis
This was pretty much what Kate had thought. But the pressures upon her to find the killer left her with little patience for playing guessing games. ‘If she needs interviewing again, Rosie, I suggest you go alone. I think you’ll get more from her.’
The young woman smiled. ‘I think your rank and your general demeanour put her off, Guv. I noticed that she didn’t like the doctor either, although she was fine with the nurse and with me. I suggest she has a problem with authoritarian figures.’
‘So I wonder what her problem is? Why is she such a nervous wreck?’ Kate slipped into a side road and took the back doubles to the station. ‘Maybe I’ll ask Broome. If he’s prepared to spend his precious time taking her for out-patients appointments, I’m willing to bet he knows exactly what is wrong with her.’
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
As they stepped through the doors into the station foyer, Kate heard her name called out. Megan Edwards beckoned her over to where she was talking animatedly with a short, rotund man with a full, neatly trimmed beard and small wire- rimmed glasses.
‘Kate, this is Professor Graham O’Byrne. He’s the friend of Tommy Thorne that you are expecting.’
Kate did a double take. The Super was actually smiling at the man, and in an uncharacteristically warm manner.
‘Strangely enough, he’s on old acquaintance. Graham is a respected psychologist, an expert in the area of serious child abuse.’ She gave him an admiring smile. ‘He has worked on some of this county’s most difficult cases, and now he’s all yours, because I’m afraid I have a meeting.’ She stepped back and threw Kate a warning look. ‘The press have caught on to the activity around the hospital morgue. I have to give them something, but I’ll do my best to keep it as close to my chest as I can.’ She shook her head. ‘But it won’t be long before the balloon goes up, so be prepared.’
It had to happen. It always did. Kate shook the man’s hand and painted on a welcoming smile.
‘Let’s go up to my office, Professor. It’s quieter there, and the coffee is better on the second floor.’
First Kate took him to the murder room, and as he appraised the photographs of the findings in the Children’s Ward, she gave him a brief précis of what had happened.
For what seemed like an age, he walked up and down, staring at minute details and then standing back and taking in the whole picture, and then he rather pensively followed her to her office.
‘I know it’s asking a lot, sir, but could you give us some kind of profile on what sort of person could do something like this?’ She didn’t know how much time this man was prepared to give, but the question was worth asking.
‘Well, much as I’m a great fan of a lot of TV crime series, I have to tell you that I don’t believe that offender profiling is actually viable in real life. It is not truly reliable and it can be quite dangerous if interpreted incorrectly. I know the FBI Behavioural Science Unit in their bunker 60 feet beneath Quantico would disagree, but in the war of experts, the percentages are on my side. No matter what the dramatists tell you, there is only between 3% and 17% chance of getting an arrest through profiling. In some cases you might just as well draw the names out of a hat.’ He looked at Kate apologetically. ‘I can see that you are disappointed, but you will get your man, or woman, by good solid police work and the back up of a good pathologist and his laboratory.’ He peered at her over the top of his glasses. ‘But what I can do, is advise you using straightforward psychology, the science of mind and behaviour, and that Chief Inspector can be very informative indeed.’
‘Great! I can live with that.’ Kate said, her deflated mood lifting somewhat. ‘So what would you like to know?’
‘May I see the crime scene? I need to be there, to breathe the air that the killer breathed, and see everything that he would have seen.’
‘You sound like Prickles, eh sorry, that’s the mess room tag for Tommy Thorne. He likes to be first on scene and have some time alone with the corpses. He says they sometimes like to share secrets with him.’
‘I totally understand that. We do share a lot of similar traits. Oh and he knows about the name, by the way. I think he quite likes it.’
Kate smiled. Like she knew about being called the Fox. ‘I’ll take you out to the scene as soon as I’ve checked on my team. Are you up for a ride to the misty marshes?’
The man’s moon-shaped face beamed at her. ‘Oh yes.’
Kate wasn’t sure that she’d be quite so happy about visiting the place where twelve young victims had been murdered, but hey-ho, each to his own.
Rosie was just hanging up the phone as Kate approached her desk.
‘Philip Graves’ veterinary nurse says that several of the animals in their rescue centre do have name cards on their cages. She said that sometimes they take cats and dogs that the owners truly can’t cope with, and rather than put them down, they try to re-home them. Elizabeth Sewell does spend time there on a voluntary basis helping with the rescued animals, and it was Elizabeth who wrote the name plaques.’
‘Mm, doesn’t sound like the sort of past-time for a killer, does it?’
‘I swear that she’s not involved, Guv. She’s done them for someone else, and I’ll bet that she has no idea what they were for.’
‘It looks that way, but it would be helpful if she could remember who the hell asked her to do them.’
‘Shall I try her again, Guv?’
‘Not just yet. Try to get a handle on Fleur first. She’s a vital link.’ Kate turned to leave. ‘Have you seen Jon?’
‘No, ma’am, not for ages.’
‘When you do, tell him I’m taking Professor O’Byrne out to Windrush.’
‘Okay, but one thing before you go, ma’am.’ She handed Kate a brown envelope. ‘This came for you from forensics.’
Kate skimmed down it, and felt a surge of frustration. It was a short report on the findings from the drinking club venue at the old chapel, and none of the dozens of samples taken matched any known offenders. All they could be grateful for was that they had new samples on file, and could use them to tie any suspects to the dirty little game that used and abused teenagers. The dirty little game, that one of their own was apparently mixed up in.
‘Ready when you are.’ Kate called out to the Professor. ‘Get ready for your trip to the nastiest Children’s Ward that you’ll ever see.’
As they drove out towards Roman Creek, Kate and Graham talked about death.
Actually they talked about the human ability to take a life. Kate said little and listened a lot, as the professor possessed a soft, almost hypnotic speaking voice that held her glued firmly to every word.
As they approached the lane that led to Windrush, he said. ‘I don’t believe that anyone is born evil; but I do believe that some have a considerably lower capacity for understanding the consequences of their actions. If they are exposed to cruelty at an early, at an impressionable age, and then continue to suffer violence, neglect or abuse as they grow, then they become desensitized. They simply become conditioned to believe that violence is an acceptable way to express their pent up anger.’
‘And you think our killer is someone like that?’
The professor laughed. ‘Oh I’m just generalising. I need to see a lot more before I start making specific statements.’
Kate slowed down at the gate, showed her warrant card to the officers on duty and told them that the professor was assisting their enquiry. They were waved through and allowed to drive up to the main house.
‘Even after years in this job, and having seen terrible things, I’m still amazed at what one human can do to another.’
The professor looked at Kate with great sadness. ‘DCI Reynard, when a person lacks empathy, and sees others as objects rather than human beings, he, or she, is capable of anything and will experience no remorse whatsoever.’
She gazed out of the windscreen and wondered at how complex humans really were, and how they manage to survive no matter what life threw at them. ‘How d
o you cope, Professor? I deal with criminals and with the dregs of society for a living, but you deal with mental confusion and illogical chaos. Don’t you ever fear that your own mental state could be in danger?’
Graham O’Byrne smiled, ‘I cope in exactly the same way as you do. This is just our job. It pays the mortgage, allows us a holiday, and clothes and feeds us, and we try to do that job to the best of our ability. We may be passionate about what we do, but it is not our whole life. I’m betting that you have a partner and probably kids, and love nothing better than spending time with them.’ His smile broadened, ‘And it helps that we know the difference between right and wrong, as do most people.’ He opened the car door and stepped out. ‘I like to believe that the majority of the world is pretty decent, all things considered, and we just deal with a very small minority.’
‘It’s nice to meet an optimist.’ Kate closed her door and flicked the locking device. ‘Believe me, they are a rarity in a police station. It’s quite refreshing!’
They walked into the foyer of the house and the professor looked around him. ‘I say! I bet this was quite something once. Such a shame it’s been so neglected.’
Kate didn’t answer as her phone was ringing.
‘Kate? It’s Tommy Thorne, are you free? I have something that you should know about.’
‘Fire away. Your friend, Graham O’Byrne, and I are out at the scene.’
The man’s voice had an excited edge to it. ‘Look, I’m almost certain that none of our victims were actually killed in that underground room. They were all killed elsewhere and brought down the tunnel to the Ward, using the old trolley that we found close to the door. There were tiny particles of cloth and fabric caught on splinters of the rough wooden base of the thing.’
‘So we are looking for another site for the actual killings?’
‘I’m afraid so.’
She then asked the question that she’d been dreading. ‘And do you know as to whether the victims were sexually assaulted?’
‘With the older bodies it is impossible to tell yet, although Jan Wallace has compiled a very complex case study on the first girl, the one we now know is called Fleur.’ He paused for a moment. ‘She’s a completely different story and I’ll leave Jan to talk to you about her. Some of the more recent ones had certainly suffered sexual assault and possibly rape, although oddly, not all of them. The younger ones seemed to have escaped that fate.’
‘So why wasn’t Emily already dead? She was drugged, and at some point in her abduction had certainly put up a fight, from the state of her muddy feet and torn clothing, but she was still alive.’
‘I think the killer thought he’d killed her. You said yourself that her signs were weak enough to be unsure.’
That was true. She had felt nothing by way of a pulse; she had just somehow known that Emily was still in there, hanging on to her short life.
‘Jan Wallace says that she will be calling within the hour, if that’s alright?’
‘Just in case we are still down in the chamber, get her to ring Sergeant Summerhill. He’ll take the details. And Tommy, we’ve had a lot of response from other forces regarding ID on the girls, but we cannot say that any of them are 100% positive until we get the DNA results. Any idea on a time scale?’
‘It is not a straightforward, simple process, Kate, unlike what you may see on Silent Witness. But because of the magnitude of this case, I’m using both the University and a private lab run by a colleague of mine. They deal mainly with paternity testing, but have volunteered to chip in and speed up any urgent samples. I can’t tell you exactly when they’ll be back, hopefully not long, but I’ll fast track anything of real urgency.’
‘Make Fleur the number one priority, will you?’
‘She already is. And you’ll realise why when Jan Wallace has spoken to you.’
Kate closed her phone and was suddenly washed over by a feeling of uneasiness. She looked over to where the professor waited patiently. She had a lot to do, other than guided tours.
‘Right, sir, first stop, the crime scene.’
The man doffed an imaginary cap. ‘Lead on.’
They were underground for almost an hour before the professor declared he had seen all he needed to. On the drive back to the station, he initially seemed lost in thought and then he suddenly said, ‘Such method! Everything planned and laid out so perfectly. A tidy, methodical mind. Even the distance between the beds is exact. I would guarantee that if you measured those gaps; they will be perfectly equal.’
‘And what does that tell us?’ asked Kate.
Graham O’Byrne took a deep breath. ‘A lot. That whole setting spoke volumes.’ He turned in his seat and faced Kate, excitement burning in his eyes, and said, ‘I think I can show you as much about the man who engineered all that, than you ever hoped to get from one of your profilers.’ He lifted both hands palms up, almost reverently. ‘I never imagined in my wildest dreams that we’d find such a beautiful blueprint of the mind.’
‘You said ‘he’. You believe it’s a male?’
‘Oh, without a doubt.’ And then he lapsed into silence for the rest of the journey.
When Jon heard who was calling, he grabbed his notebook and pen and listened intently.
‘I know you’re busy, detective,’ said Jan Wallace, ‘but I was wondering if you could come over to the mortuary. I’ve got a lot of information regarding your earliest victim, Fleur. Some of it is quite complicated and needs explaining.’
Jon winced. ‘Sorry, but could you give me the bare bones of it, no pun intended, and I’ll get there when I can. We’re up to our necks here.’
The scientist waited for a second then said, ‘I understand, but you should know that I counted 27 individual bony injuries on that young woman. And my initial thoughts after studying the pathology of her bones, is that they are severely lacking in minerals, and as analysis showed malnutrition and anaemia, I believe she starved to death.’
Jon’s thought processes ground to a halt. Whatever he had thought the woman was going to tell him, it wasn’t that.
‘I can also confirm that she was moved after burial. However, and this is quite remarkable, most of the skeleton is still present, just some of the smallest bones are missing. Her age was fifteen when she died, as the name plaque confirms, now that it’s been forensically enhanced.’ She paused for a moment. ‘There is quite a lot more, Sergeant, when you have the time. Although nothing as important as what I have just told you.’
‘Look, I really appreciate your help, Professor Wallace, and I promise that I will see you, just as soon as possible.’
Jon replaced the phone and tried to stop his brain running riot. ‘Starved to death?’ he whispered to himself. ‘And exhumed after burial? What the devil…?’
‘You look a trifle perplexed?’ Rosie sat down next to him.
‘And so will you, Flower. Listen to this.’ He beckoned Scott over, and passed on the puzzling forensic information about the first girl.
‘Bloody hell.’ whispered Scott, then added, ‘I know I’m supposed to be a detective, but what the hell is this all about?’
No-one answered.
When Kate arrived back, Jon swiftly filled her in, then sent for some refreshments for the professor, and summoned the team to her office to hear what he had to say.
‘The DCI asked earlier,’ began the professor, ‘about what the very particular attention to detail meant. Well, there is enormous difference between an organized killer and a disorganized one. Organised is usually of either average or above average intelligence, forensically aware and careful to select a location in which he is comfortable. He chooses his times carefully, is well prepared, and enjoys manipulating the game, gaining control. The disorganized killer on the other hand is often of lower mental intelligence, acts spontaneously, uses whatever comes to hand and the scene that he leaves behind him can often reflect his disorganized state.
‘So our man is organised?’ said Jon.
The p
rofessor tilted his head to one side. ‘Too much so, I’m afraid.’ He gave an exasperated smile. ‘Every single thing in that room screamed out “Nurture!” There were no instruments of torture, no restraints, nothing to scare or threaten. There was just tidiness, cleanliness, flowers and neatly stored clothes. According to the photographs, the bodies were generally undisturbed and made to appear comfortable and peaceful.’
‘That ties in with what the pathologist has told me about the room. There was nothing forensically to show that they had been killed there.’ Kate added. ‘Everything in that chamber goes utterly and completely against the fact that the girls were drugged, abducted, beaten, possibly sexually assaulted or raped, and then murdered.’
‘Could he have some kind of split-personality?’ asked Gary.
‘Multiple personality disorders are very rare, but it’s a possibility.’ The professor nodded. ‘If this was the case, the person would behave differently whilst in each state, have different characteristics and skills, and the two personalities would most likely not be aware of each other.’
Jon rubbed at his temple thoughtfully. ‘And what would trigger the transition from one state to the other?’
‘Generally trauma of some kind.’
‘So that could fit?’ Kate said, ‘After he’s murdered his victim, the trauma of what he’s done causes the second, nurturing personality to take over.’
‘It would be very unusual, but not impossible.’
‘So where would he actually take his victims after he’d drugged them?’
‘I would suspect somewhere close by, but not the house. Considering the building work, there was too much going on there, he could have been seen. And we know that he used the tunnel from the marsh to access the room, so I’d say look within a mile or so of the tunnel entrance.’