The Last Temptation

by Val McDermid

  “A reasonable conclusion. From what you’ve told me, these crimes contain signature elements.” She gave Petra a questioning glance, to see whether she needed to explain herself.

  Petra nodded confidently. “OK, so I figured we had a big problem on our hands. As you know, there’s no formal operational liaison between national police forces in the EU, in spite of Europol and Interpol. Oh, we’re supposed to swap information and work jointly on transnational crime, and that sometimes works, like with what we’re doing against Radecki. But we both know how jealously cops guard their territory. Something as glamorous as a serial killer, nobody is going to want to mount an operation that might take the credit away from them. Getting them to share will be harder than pulling teeth.”

  It smacked of cynicism, but Carol knew Petra was right. She also suspected that the greater glory of Petra Becker might be an element in the equation, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. She knew herself she tended to be more committed to cases that would make her look good. It wasn’t something she was proud of, but she had to acknowledge it as a reality. “So you decided to sit on it and do some investigating of your own?”

  Petra looked slightly uncomfortable. “I don’t know that I’d got as far as making a decision,” she admitted. “It’s true that I wanted to be the one to break the news, and so I asked Marijke to send me the full details of her case. Because, if I was right, he started killing in Germany, which would give us some claim to be the primary investigators.” Petra stopped abruptly and reached for her cigarettes. “But then, a couple of days ago, there was a third murder. I haven’t been able to get much detail yet, but it appears that a Dr. Margarethe Schilling from Bremen University has also fallen victim to the same killer.”

  “Surely other people are going to pick up on it now?” Carol said.

  Petra shrugged. “Not necessarily. The police forces in the different länder don’t have any formal liaison. There’s no central clearing house for information on crimes like murder, only for organized crime. We’re a big country and, frankly, most cops are too busy with their own workload to be bother about what’s happening in other cities hundreds of miles away. And it’s not like America, where serial killing is almost part of the culture. Here in Europe, we still don’t expect it to happen outside books and movies. No, Carol, the only way anybody’s going to make this link is if some detective like me picks up on it. And who’s going to connect the murder of a man in Heidelberg and a woman in Bremen, just because they were psychology lecturers?”

  “So you’re going to have to make it official now,” Carol said.

  “Oh, I know,” Petra said, blowing smoke down her nostrils. “It’s awkward, though. The first German case was never directly mine, and if I submit a report to Europol asking them to help coordinate an investigation, I will have to explain that Marijke broke her own duty of confidentiality when she told me about the Leiden case. And that is going to drop her right in the shit with her bosses.”

  “I see your point,” Carol said thoughtfully. “Is there any way you could have read about the Leiden case and noticed similarities to the one you’d seen from Heidelberg, then connected those to Bremen?”

  Petra shook her head. “There wasn’t much detail in the media. Not enough to mark it out as something that would have jogged my memory.”

  “I don’t suppose Marijke put out a search notice through Europol, to see if there were any other similar cases?”

  “I doubt it was even considered. Most cops, especially provincial cops, really don’t think of Europol as something that affects them. It’s not been up and running in an operational sense long enough to have become part of their automatic thought processes. I would think of it, of course, because my work is intelligence-based. But for someone like Marijke’s boss, it wouldn’t even cross his mind.”

  “Well, if you’re serious about wanting to protect Marijke, that might be the way to go. Get her to send a search request to The Hague, on the basis that this case has the hallmarks of the kind of killer who is likely to be a repeat offender and may be operating elsewhere in the EU. That would go out with the regular Europol bulletin, which I presume you see routinely?”

  Petra nodded. “I think my team is one of the few departments that actually reads what comes out of Den Haag,” she said wryly.

  “Perfect. Then you can weigh in with your recollection of the Heidelberg case. And bring in the Bremen case as a possibility.”

  Petra stared off into the middle distance, examining what Carol had suggested from every possible angle. It would play, she thought. She wouldn’t make quite as big a splash as she had hoped, but still, she’d get the credit for picking up on the first known case. And she might even end up as the officer in charge of co-ordinating the inquiry, since it could then be claimed as a German case and nobody would want to leave it in the hands of the woodentops in Heidelberg. But though they might not be overly smart in Heidelberg, they weren’t completely stupid. “There’s only one problem,” she said.

  “Go on.”

  “I asked for the Heidelberg case details to be re-sent to me last week. If there’s a new investigation opened up, they’re likely to remember that.”

  “Bugger,” Carol said. “You’re right, they won’t have forgotten that. Look, let’s get some food and have a think. Maybe a solution will come to us once we’ve woken up our taste buds.”

  They made their way to the buffet and loaded up their plates with an assortment of starters. For a while, they ate in virtual silence, breaking it only to comment on the quality of the food. Halfway through a chicken satay stick, Petra suddenly beamed. “I’ve got it, I think. They sent that case to us originally because they thought it might be connected to organized crime. Now, Radecki’s network extends as far as the Rhine and the Neckar. I could say that, in preparation for this operation, I was pulling in everything that might have a possible link to Radecki. I’m notoriously obsessed with this case. Nobody will think twice about me grasping at straws.”

  Carol thought it over. It was thin, but it wasn’t as if it would have to stand up to detailed scrutiny. Once a serial killer investigation was mooted, nobody would be seriously wondering how the show got on the road in the first place. “It’ll do,” she said. One corner of her mouth lifted in a sardonic smile. “Somehow, I have the sense that you’re not bad at blagging your way past your bosses.”

  Petra frowned. “Blagging? I don’t understand this word.”

  “Talking your way out of a tight spot.”

  “I’ve had lots of practice. Thank you for your help with this.”

  Carol shrugged. “No big deal. You’re welcome. You needed a fresh eye on the situation, that’s all.”

  Petra pushed her empty plate to one side. “There’s one other thing about this killer that is bothering me.”

  Smart woman, Carol thought. In your shoes, I’d be going crazy, not just feeling bothered. She nodded. “He’s not going to stop. You see this slipping away into some no-man’s-land of turf wars and arguments over the chain of command. Meanwhile, this bastard is free to carry on killing.” As she saw recognition on Petra’s face, Carol realized with a sense of wonder that she was talking like Tony, stepping inside someone else’s head and articulating her fears.

  “You have put your finger on it precisely. This killer, he is a planner. He is good at what he does, and there is no reason for him to stop until he is caught. Meanwhile, the bureaucrats will be playing their games and the investigators will have their hands tied. It’s frustrating.”

  “It’s more than frustrating. It goes directly against the grain of what your instincts as a cop tell you needs to be done.”

  “Exactly. So, in my shoes, what would you do, Carol?”

  The million-pound question, with only one possible answer. “Phone a friend,” she said ironically. Petra frowned. Maybe Who Wants to be a Millionaire hadn’t travelled to Germany, Carol thought. “I wouldn’t let it go. I’d do everything I could to progress the invest
igation myself, and to hell with the official channels. And the first thing I’d do would be to get a profile.”

  Petra’s face cleared. “Ah,” she said. “I see. You would call Dr. Hill?”

  “He’s the best. So yes, I’d call him and try to persuade him to come out of retirement and get back into the game.”

  “He has retired?” Petra’s disappointment was palpable. “I didn’t think he was so old.”

  It dawned on Carol that this whole thing had been one long preamble to try and secure Tony’s services for an unofficial serial-killer hunt. Sure, Petra had genuinely needed help with the mechanics of bringing it together in the public domain, but the real agenda was to enlist Carol and Tony on her team. Strangely, she didn’t feel at all used. She was genuinely amused, because she identified the strategy as one she would have cheerfully attempted herself. “He’s not old. But he’s not profiling any more. After the Vance case, he decided he didn’t want to be at the sharp end any longer.”

  Petra looked dismayed. “Shit,” she said. “I thought maybe…” She shook her head, clearly angry with herself.

  “You thought exactly what I’d have thought in your shoes,” Carol said gently. She felt for Petra, knowing how discouraged she would have been in the same position. On the spur of the moment, she made a decision. “Look, leave this with me. I saw Tony only a few days ago, and I’ve a feeling he just might take the bait. He’s not enjoying the quiet life as much as he’d hoped. This could intrigue him enough to draw him back into combat. Meanwhile, get Marijke to set the official ball rolling. The sooner the better. And I’ll do what I can to help.”

  “I think you have enough to be worried about without this,” Petra said, half-hearted.

  “It’ll give me something to keep me grounded in who I really am,” Carol said. “Nothing like reality to beat Zelig’s syndrome.”

  So now she had to keep her promise to Petra. She had to find the words that would entice Tony to give his help. She had the feeling she was kicking at a half-open door, but it would still take all her powers of persuasion. Carol walked through to the kitchenette and opened a bottle of red wine. Time for a little Dutch courage. First, she had to e-mail Tony. Then she had to prepare for tomorrow, when she would finally come face to face with Tadeusz Radecki.

  20

  Tony stretched his arms out, feeling the crack of joints in his neck and shoulders. He was getting too old to spend the evening hunched over a computer screen. But it was as good a way as any to escape from the complicated reaction the news about Vance had provoked in him. He’d unplugged the phone and immersed himself in work, avoiding thought and journalists alike.

  He closed down the file he’d been reading, the draft dissertation of one of his graduate students. It wasn’t a bad piece of work, although the theories ran ahead of the evidence in a couple of crucial places. He’d have to take a stern line with her in their next supervision session. She needed to iron out these problems now, before they became too entrenched to unpick easily.

  Before he switched off, he crossed to his communications program and flicked the button to send and receive all mail. It was always worth a late-night mailbox check; he might be heading for bed, but much of America was still in the middle of the working day, and he was in regular touch with several friends and colleagues on the other side of the Atlantic.

  Tonight, there was a single message. He activated the encryption software that Carol’s brother had sent him and opened her e-mail.

  Hi, Tony,

  Well, here I am in Berlin. There’s a real buzz here, it feels like a place that’s doing well for itself. Which, as we know, is always a good breeding ground for the more sophisticated sorts of crime!

  I’ve not made contact with TR yet—that’s scheduled for tomorrow night, when we see if Petra’s strategy will work or explode in our faces. I know you said you thought it was psychologically sound, but I’m still feeling very nervous about it. Now that it’s so imminent, I’m a basket case. I can’t eat and I know I’m going to struggle to sleep tonight. I’m having a few glasses of wine to take the edge off, but I’m not convinced that’ll make any difference. Petra has been working me intensively, and I suppose that should give me some confidence. I can’t say that it has, however. Although I feel I know TR pretty well, I’m not sure I know who Caroline Jackson is…Let’s hope I don’t fall flat on my face at the first hurdle.

  Anyway, talking about this is only making me more nervous. And the real reason I’m writing to you tonight is actually nothing to do with my undercover.

  When we saw each other recently, you seemed to be suggesting that you would welcome the chance to use your skills in criminal profiling again, if the right opportunity came along. Well, I think I might have the very thing for you.

  The basic scenario: definitely two, possibly three murders that we know of. Two males, one female. All the victims have been psychologists working as university academics. They have all been found lying on their backs, bound hand and foot to their desks. Their clothes have been cut away, leaving them naked. The cause of death was drowning—they had a tube forced into their throats and water was poured down it until they died. And there is an interesting post-mortem mutilation: the killer scalped their pubic area. No damage to the genitals, just the removal of hair and skin.

  The problem: the first murder that we know of took place in Heidelberg in Germany, the second in Leiden in Holland, the third (the possible) in Germany again, in Bremen. The connection was made because by chance Petra had seen details of the first case, and a friend of hers, Marijke, who is a cop in Holland told her about the second case and Petra spotted the link. Then, when the third murder of a psychology lecturer was reported, it jumped out at her, even though she hasn’t got enough detail yet to be certain it fits. So, as you will see, there is a jurisdictional nightmare ahead. What’s more, it’s not formally out there yet because we’ve had to work out a way of officially linking the cases without dropping Marijke in the shit for talking out of school. Sometime over the next few days, though, it’s going to be shunted through Europol, which should start the wheels moving.

  But I don’t have to tell you how it will get bogged down in the machinery of bureaucracy. Petra thinks it’s unlikely that anyone else has made these connections yet, given how little communication there is between German police forces on the ground (sound familiar???). Petra also thinks, and I agree with her, that he’s going to take more victims before a properly constituted international task force can get moving. So she wants to try to short circuit that process with an unofficial investigation.

  To a large extent they’re working in the dark. This killer seems to be very good at covering his tracks. There seems to be almost nothing from forensics in either case.

  Why has Petra taken the risk of spilling the beans to me? Well, let’s not forget that she’s in intelligence. And she’d done her homework on me. Which led her inexorably to you.

  Obviously, what the girls want—no, what they NEED—is a profile. And, like the song says, nobody does it better.

  And Petra wants the best.

  It’s a chance to get back into the game, Tony. And it would be a safe environment to do it in. Because it would be entirely unofficial, you’d be working out of the public eye, nobody looking over your shoulder expecting instant results. No stories in the press pressurizing you to come up with the goods. Simply a low-key piece of work that might just save some lives.

  Of course, if the girls do manage to pull something off, you’d get the credit, which would maybe open some doors for you in Europe.

  Please don’t feel you have to say yes on my account. I’ve told Petra that I don’t hold out great hopes. But I’d like you to say yes on your own account, because I don’t think what you’re doing right now is giving you much sense of satisfaction. And doing what you do best might make you feel happier with yourself.

  Think about it.

  Take care,

  CJ

  Tony scrolled back
to the top of the message and re-read it more slowly, the occasional ironic smile twitching the corners of his mouth. She was good, he had to admit. She’d always been quick, and she’d learned a few neat little tricks along the way. He wondered how long it had taken her to compose something so apparently artless but which was nevertheless clearly calculated to push all his buttons. There was enough information about the cases to whet his appetite, but not enough to allow him to draw the conclusion that they lacked sufficient interest to suck him in.

  Oh, and it was very cleverly done. Right down to bait that it would be a black exercise, off the official books, something entirely deniable whether it went right or wrong. “And it would be a safe environment to do it in.” The subtext being, of course, that there would be nobody to see the egg on his face if his skills had gone rusty and he fucked up. He didn’t think Carol believed that would happen, but he understood that she thought he might carry that fear. And she was right, too.

  It was tempting. But he wasn’t sure if he was drawn to it for the right reasons. The thought that kept butting its way to the front of his mind was that it would provide him with a legitimate excuse for getting on a plane to Berlin, because naturally he’d have to consult in detail with Petra, who seemed to be in the driving seat of this black operation. And Berlin right now meant Carol. Carol, who could benefit from the support he could offer. Carol, who had never been out of his thoughts since he’d left London.

  And that was a dishonest reason for snatching this opportunity. If he went to Berlin for Carol’s sake, his mind wouldn’t be focused on the job he was supposedly there to do. Worse yet, his presence might prove to be the opposite of helpful for Carol. She needed to stay in role as much as possible, and if he kept popping up like a jack-in-the-box, it could damage her ability to maintain Caroline Jackson. Providing insights and reinforcement from a distance was one thing; to be there in person could tempt her to lean too heavily on him. Then if it came to the crunch and she was thrown entirely on her own resources, she might lack the necessary confidence to carry it through.