The Keeper dsc-2

by Luke Delaney

  ‘How?’ Deborah asked, barely able to comprehend the conversation she was having with a stranger she couldn’t even see properly. Two women locked in animal cages planning their salvation.

  ‘At first he’ll treat you well.’

  ‘You call this well?’ she snapped.

  Louise understood her anger and ignored her reaction. ‘He’ll let you out, to use the toilet and wash. After a few days he’ll even give you clean clothes. Listen, when he comes down here, I think he leaves the door to wherever we are open. It leads outside, I’m sure it does. I’ve seen the sunlight and smelled the fresh air. When he gets you out of your cage-’

  ‘This isn’t my cage,’ she snapped again, ‘this is his cage. I’m locked in his cage.’

  ‘I’m sorry. You’re right. When he lets you out of his cage, that’s when you have to do it.’

  ‘Do what?’

  ‘He’s not very big or strong. He’ll give you a tray with food on. Use that tray to attack him and then get the key to my cage from his tracksuit trouser pocket and let me out. Together we can overpower him and lock him in his own damn cage and escape — call the police and lead them straight to the bastard.’

  Deborah shook her head involuntarily. ‘You’re mad. It’ll never work and then it’ll be worse for me.’ She squinted as the other woman began to come into focus, her similarity to herself painfully obvious, as was the fact she wore only her underwear and had no mattress or covers. She looked like she had dark patches on her face.

  ‘Listen to me,’ Louise urged her. ‘I’m sorry, but you need to know. There was another, before me. Her name was Karen Green. By the time he brought me here she already looked like I do now. I sat in this cage and I watched him beat her and rape her — and not just once. Then the night before he brought you, he took her away. She never came back.’

  ‘Oh my God, no. I read something about her in the papers. They found her in the woods. She’d been strangled. He killed her. I have to get out of here. I have to get out of here now.’

  ‘You can’t,’ Louise insisted, her voice raised above Deborah’s increasing panic. ‘Not yet. We have to work together.’

  ‘No. I’ll do what he wants. I’ll make him think I like him,’ she argued, ‘and he’ll let me out of here and then when I see a chance I’ll get away from him. He’s already killed somebody. If I attack him, he’ll kill me too.’

  ‘Look at me,’ Louise insisted. ‘I’ve tried all that, please believe me, I’ve tried, but it makes no difference. I am what you will become. Nothing you do can change that.’

  ‘No.’ Deborah refused to accept it. ‘There must be a better way.’

  ‘There isn’t,’ Louise answered, ‘and unless you believe me, unless you do what I tell you, we’re both going to die. He’ll kill us both.’

  Shortly after eleven p.m. Sean and Sally prepared to begin the interview of Jason Lawlor. Sean had wanted a woman present to try and make Lawlor as uncomfortable as possible, so that he could read the signs he would be unwittingly sending — guilt, remorse, excitement, ambivalence. Innocence? Sally’s heart had dropped when he’d asked her, but she’d managed not to show it.

  Sean pressed the red button on the twin-cassette machine that would record the interview. A loud, shrill buzzing sound filled the room for about five seconds, followed by silence. Sean cleared his throat and took a breath before he began: ‘I am Detective Inspector Sean Corrigan and the other officer present is …’

  Sally introduced herself. ‘Detective Sergeant Sally Jones.’

  ‘We are interviewing … could you state your name for the tape, please?’

  Lawlor spoke without looking at the recording machine, a sign he was a veteran of taped police interviews. ‘Jason Lawlor,’ he answered, sounding bored already.

  ‘Jason,’ Sean continued, ‘I must remind you that you are still under caution and don’t have to say anything unless you wish to do so, but if you fail to mention something that you later rely on in court, an inference can be drawn from that. Do you understand?’

  Lawlor shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘You need to tell me if you understand.’

  ‘Yeah, I understand, OK?’

  ‘You also have the right to free and independent legal advice. You have the right to consult with a solicitor before, during or after this interview, and this can be done in person or over the telephone, do you understand?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So far you haven’t asked to speak with a solicitor and you haven’t consulted with one and there are none present in the interview. Are you sure you want to continue without one present?’

  ‘I don’t need a solicitor. I ain’t done nothing.’

  ‘Well, if you change your mind just let me know and I’ll stop the interview and arrange it, OK?’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘Fine. The date is Friday the seventh of April and the time is eleven oh five p.m. I am now starting the interview. Jason, do you know why you’re here?’

  ‘Yeah, because you ain’t got a clue who killed that woman so you thought you’d stitch me up for it.’

  Sean looked down at the table and then straight into Lawlor’s eyes. ‘You’re here because I believe you abducted Karen Green on the morning of Thursday the thirtieth of March, and then killed her one week later. I also believe you’ve abducted Louise Russell and that you’re holding her against her will.’

  ‘No you don’t.’

  ‘It’s late and I’m tired,’ Sean told him. ‘I’m not here to play games, so why don’t you just answer my questions, OK?’

  ‘You know I’ve got nothing to do with this.’

  Sean let the oppressive silence hang for a while, guessing it would intimidate Lawlor. ‘You’re a registered sex offender, aren’t you, Jason?’

  ‘What of it? I’ve done my time, paid my debt to society.’ A sly smile spread across his lips.

  ‘But you haven’t been signing on, have you? You’ve missed your last two appointments.’

  ‘So send me back to prison then. There’s nothing for me outside anyway. You think anyone’s gonna give me a job or rent me a decent place to live? Course they’re fucking not. I’m better off inside.’

  ‘Don’t worry about that — you’re going back inside. But right now I need to know where you were the Thursday before last.’

  ‘Eight days ago? I can’t remember eight days ago. I was probably pissed somewhere.’

  ‘OK, try one day ago — last night, when Karen Green was taken into Three Halfpenny Wood and killed — strangled to death. Where were you then?’

  ‘I was pissed, in some pub in Sydenham.’

  ‘Is that going to be your answer to everything, that you were pissed and can’t remember?’

  ‘Probably.’

  Sean leaned back in his chair, studying Lawlor, looking for a way in. ‘The two women who have been taken look the same: white, late twenties, slim, short brown hair, attractive.’ He saw a flicker of interest when he said attractive. ‘They could have been sisters, twins even. Why is it important that they look the same? Why is that important to you?’

  ‘To me?’ Lawlor snapped. ‘No, not to me. I told you, this ain’t got nothing to do with me.’

  ‘The woman we found, Karen Green, she’d been raped and sodomized. There was a significant amount of semen in her. Whoever raped her didn’t use a condom.’

  ‘If you’ve got his spunk then check it for DNA and you’ll know it’s not me.’

  ‘That takes time. I haven’t got time. You need to answer my questions now.’

  ‘I am answering your questions, but I don’t know nothing!’

  ‘Your last rape conviction, I looked it up. You didn’t use a condom.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘That’s pretty unusual for a rapist.’ He emphasized rapist.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘And you used artifice to get into the house. You tricked her, told her you were there to read her meter. We checked our records, Jason. You’re the
only one in this area with form for using artifice.’

  ‘So somebody’s copying me. Maybe I told someone how well it worked. No need to break in. No need to drag them into a car. I must have an admirer.’

  ‘No use of a condom. Previous for using artifice to gain entry. Previous for rape. Can’t account for your movements when either woman was taken or for when Karen Green’s body was dumped. Failed to attend your registered sex offenders’ appointments. Things don’t look good for you, Jason.’

  ‘Do the fucking DNA tests,’ Lawlor almost shouted. ‘Why are you pissing around with these stupid questions? It weren’t me.’

  ‘We will, Jason, don’t worry. We’ll do the tests and then you’ll be dead in the water and all your lies will be shown to be exactly that.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘The crime you were convicted for — not using a condom was a pretty stupid mistake, don’t you think? Leaving us your DNA.’

  ‘It wasn’t a mistake, it was something I had to do.’

  ‘What do you mean, “had to do”?’

  ‘You’re a man, you know what I mean.’

  ‘No. No I don’t.’

  ‘Then what about you?’ he asked Sally, who looked shocked at being suddenly involved in the interview, as if she’d been awoken from her daydreaming.

  Sean intervened. ‘You should stick to answering questions,’ he told Lawlor, ‘and let me ask them. So I’ll ask you again: why was it something you had to do?’

  ‘I needed to feel myself inside them. I needed to, you know, release myself inside of them. I needed to feel myself come inside of them. It’s like it makes it last for days, you understand? If I use a Durex then I take myself with me when it’s over, but if I come inside them then I can smell them on me for days. I can think about my come being still inside them days after and that helps me … helps me control my needs.’

  Sally felt as if she was going to be sick. She couldn’t bring herself to look into his face, her eyes wandering around the room, but never resting on Lawlor.

  ‘And how does that make you feel?’ Sean asked.

  ‘It makes me feel good. It makes me feel really good.’

  Sean could see Lawlor was reliving past experiences, his lips full and flushed red with blood, his eyes wide as if he was watching himself committing his own crimes with unbridled pleasure.

  ‘Just good?’ Sean wanted to pull him out of his trance, to keep him talking.

  ‘No. Powerful. In control. It’s like a drug from heaven — once you’ve had a taste, there’s no going back, no stopping. When you’re inside them, you’re accepted, you understand? You’re wanted. You’re alive and you’re loved, but …’ His excitement seemed to fade as fast as it had grown.

  ‘But?’ Sean encouraged.

  ‘But, when it’s over, you feel ashamed and embarrassed. You just want to tell them you’re sorry and to run away, to get as far away as you can. And the fear, the fear is crushing, you know? It makes you feel weak, which is why the urges come back, which is why you know you’re going to do it again, to not feel ashamed any more, to feel accepted and loved, even if it’s only for a few minutes.’

  ‘Is that why you’ve changed the way you operate? Is that why you keep them for days, so you can feel accepted for longer, loved for longer?’

  ‘I’ve told you, I’ve got nothing to do with this. I would never kidnap anyone. That takes planning. I never mean to do what I do. I just see someone and the needs come back, I can’t help myself. I follow them home, and if they’re alone I try to trick my way inside and then I do bad things. But I didn’t take these women — I’ve never taken any women — I never would.’

  ‘Why?’ Sally asked.

  ‘I like doing it to them in their houses.’ Somehow Sally managed to keep looking him in the eyes, despite her disgust.

  Sean studied the man in front of him, a scared opportunistic offender, triggered by his surroundings, incapable of planning and forethought, the complete opposite of the man who killed Karen Green and the man who would undoubtedly kill Louise Russell, unless he could find him and stop him.

  After a few seconds of silence Sean spoke. ‘I’ve no more. Sally?’

  She shook her head to clear her thoughts. ‘No. No questions.’

  ‘Is there anything you’d like to say, Jason, or to have me clarify for you?’

  ‘No. Just make sure you get me back to Belmarsh in time for dinner tomorrow, will you? It’s cod and chips on Saturdays. I don’t want to miss that.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Sean, ‘you’ll be back in time for your fish and chips. This interview is concluded.’ He pressed the off button to stop the recording and leaned across the interview table putting his face close to Lawlor’s. ‘And I hope you fucking choke on them.’

  He stomped out of the interview room, closely followed by Sally. The on-duty custody sergeant calling after them: ‘What d’you want me to do with your prisoner?’

  ‘Put him back in his cell for the night. He’ll be recalled to prison in the morning.’

  Once they were out of the busy custody area and in a quiet corridor, Sally grabbed his arm and stopped him walking away. He spun to face her, knowing he was about to be cross-examined himself.

  ‘You knew he didn’t do it, all along. As soon as Zukov told you about him you knew he wasn’t our man.’

  ‘I had some doubts.’

  ‘No you didn’t. You knew it wasn’t him.’

  ‘He looked a decent suspect. We had to at least arrest and interview him.’

  ‘Why?’ Sally persisted. ‘When you knew it wasn’t him. We’ve just wasted an entire evening chasing after the wrong man, and all the time you knew it.’

  Sean pulled away from her as gently as he could and started walking. ‘Jesus, Sally, leave it alone, will you.’

  ‘I’m trying to understand what’s going on.’

  ‘He was an arrest, wasn’t he? That’s what the top brass want to see — that we’re making arrests, progressing the investigation, that people are helping us with our inquiries.’

  ‘Not if we’re arresting the wrong people.’

  ‘Give me a break, Sally. They don’t care what’s going on as long as they’ve got something to tell the media, as long as they’ve got something to build a load of bullshit around. So Lawlor wasn’t our man — who cares? He served a purpose. By arresting him we’ve bought ourselves twenty-four hours of not being interfered with, maybe more.’

  Sally struggled to keep pace with him as they strode along the corridor. Again she took hold of his arm to stop him, spinning him around and fixing eye contact. ‘No, no, that’s not it,’ she insisted. ‘There’s more to it.’ He said nothing as she searched in his eyes for answers. ‘He gave you something, didn’t he, something you were missing, something you needed, something you couldn’t find in yourself?’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  He tried to walk away, but Sally kept a firm grip on his arm. ‘You’re trying to think like him, aren’t you? You’re trying to think like the man we’re after. You’ve been doing it since you agreed to take the missing persons case … But I still don’t understand why you would go after someone like Lawlor.’

  ‘Because I thought he could fill in the gaps, all right,’ he finally confessed, knowing Sally wouldn’t give in. ‘I have to be able to think like him if we’re going to find him quickly. I … I know so much about him already, but there were too many gaps. I needed to know why he’s really doing this. Love? Hate? Anger? Power? Acceptance? Lawlor helped fill some of those gaps.’

  Sally found herself nodding, both glad and afraid to be right. ‘Are you sure it’s a good idea to start thinking like he does? To have the likes of Lawlor going around inside your head?’

  ‘I don’t have a choice. If Louise Russell is to have any chance, then I don’t have a choice. Anyway,’ he tried to reassure her, ‘I’ll be fine.’

  ‘I guess that depends on what’s going on in your
head already, doesn’t it?’

  Sean sighed, almost relieved to have someone to confide in, to share the burden of his innermost thoughts and fears. ‘I’m just trying to think like him, not become him. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.’ They started walking again.

  ‘I hope you know what you’re doing, guv’nor.’

  ‘Yeah, well, me too.’

  ‘And Lawlor — did you get what you want from him?’

  ‘More or less.’

  ‘Which was?’

  ‘His motivation.’

  ‘And now you know?’

  ‘Not exactly, but I’m closer. I won’t know exactly until all the pieces fall into place, that moment when everything suddenly makes sense. But Lawlor helped, for sure. I know that their actions are largely underpinned by the same need to feel powerful but at the same time to be accepted and loved. Lawlor achieved that by raping women in their own homes, women he’d stumbled across and made an instant decision to attack. Our man wants the same, but his primary way of getting what he wants is by keeping the women. The question is, why does he do that? Why does he have to keep them?’

  ‘To make the experience last longer?’ Sally guessed.

  ‘That’s what I thought, at first. Made good sense, but now I’m not so sure. I don’t think he wants to make it last as long as he can, I think he wants to make it last a very specific period of time.’

  ‘A week?’

  ‘Give or take twelve hours, yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Acceptance and love.’

  ‘I don’t understand?’

  ‘I think, and I’m only guessing, but I think he’s reliving a relationship he had with someone, a relationship that might have lasted as little as a week or so, but one in which he was happy — accepted and loved. The two women he’s taken look the same, remember?’

  ‘An ex-girlfriend?’

  Sean shrugged his shoulders. ‘That would be my guess. Now all I have to do is work out how to use it to help me find the son-of-a-bitch before it’s too late.’ They’d almost reached the main office entrance. ‘Do me a favour, Sally, keep this between the two of us, OK?’

  ‘Sure. If that’s what you want.’