by Val McDermid
2. He is posing as a journalist on an e-zine in order to gain private access to those he has targeted. I believe he will have made the arrangements for his meetings with the victims via e-mail, since he is unlikely to possess the interpersonal skills to set up meetings with such highly socialized victims either face to face or via the telephone. Therefore we can state with some certainty that he possesses his own computer; he would not risk such communications on a system available to others. Furthermore, an expert search of the victims’ computers may reveal traces of these communications.
3. He is unlikely to be unemployed; he can afford a computer, he can afford to travel. He is also comfortable moving around in more than one country, suggesting a familiarity with them. In my opinion, he is likely to have a job that involves travelling, but not one that requires people skills. It may well be a job that demands a certain level of intelligence and responsibility, yet one that is not highly regarded by the world at large. Perhaps a long-distance lorry driver, or a maintenance engineer on some specialized equipment. He will drive a well-maintained midrange car of unassuming appearance. It is unlikely that he uses public transport to go to and from the scenes of the crimes, and this may mean that he is either hiring cars in or near the cities where he has killed, or that he has local access to company vehicles because of his job.
4. The first crime of serial offenders tends to take place nearest their home. Since the first crime in this series took place in Heidelberg, I believe he is probably based in the central region of Germany.
5. He is most likely to be in his late twenties or early thirties. Typically, serial killers take time to work up to their ambition. If they make it into their late thirties without killing, they’re less likely to start because they have found alternative ways to sublimate their desires.
6. It is likely that a member of his immediate family has a history of treatment for mental illness or a record of psychological torture at the hands of officialdom. If the latter is the case, it may well be that the family originated from the former East Germany.
7. If he has a criminal record, I’d suggest that it may include stalking or Peeping Tom offences. Most serial killers exhibit a history of bullying, animal torture, minor vandalism and arson, but in this case, I believe he is more likely to have convictions for violence against the person. Whatever was done to damage his psyche will have produced enormous levels of suppressed rage in him. Until he found an appropriate (for him) target for his anger, he may have been prone to outbursts of violence against anyone who he perceived as laughing at him. He may have assaulted prostitutes or other men who made fun of his lack of a girlfriend.
Tony stared bleakly at the screen. In truth, it wasn’t much. As usual, he felt like the conjuror who is expected to produce an elephant from his top hat but only manages the same tired old rabbit. He reminded himself that this was only a raw first draft. He needed more data and he wanted to talk a couple of ideas over with Carol before he committed them to paper.
Tony packed up his laptop and scribbled a note to Petra.
Thanks for your help. I’ve begun work on the profile but I need to go to Bremen. Can you book me on a train or a plane first thing? And is there any way of arranging things so I can talk to the local cops? Also, it would be helpful if you could put me in touch with someone who can talk to me about the Stasi’s use of psychiatry. I’m going back to my apartment—I’ll expect your call.
He let himself out of the front door and wearily descended to the street. It was a beautiful spring day, the air damp and cool, the sky bright with sunshine. Only a clod could fail to be moved by the possibilities of life on a day like this, Tony thought. But somewhere out there, rain or shine, a killer was planning his next move. And it was up to Tony to try to make sure it would be the one that ended in checkmate.
The restaurant he had chosen surprised her. She had been expecting somewhere with private nooks and crannies, where they could talk without fear of being overheard. There was nothing intimate about this place, however. High ceilings with steel and tungsten light fittings, the tables and chairs a design statement in themselves. It was smart and noisy, the sort of place where everyone automatically checked out the rest of the clientele to satisfy themselves that the cutting edge hadn’t moved somewhere else since they were last there.
He was already seated when she arrived, smoking a small cigar and reading the menu at a table in the middle of the room. Carol noticed she attracted a couple of curious glances as the waiter led her to his table. She was going to have to deal with that, and sooner rather than later.
When she reached the table, Tadeusz got to his feet and gave a small, formal bow. “Thank you for coming,” he said.
“Thank you for asking me.” The waiter held out her chair and Carol settled herself. “Tell me, are you some sort of celebrity in Berlin?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“I noticed last night and again just now. People stare at us. And since nobody in Berlin has a clue who I am, it must be you.”
His cheeks flushed scarlet and he looked down at the table. He fiddled with his fork, then glanced back up at her, his mouth a thin line. She could see he was struggling not to show emotion. “I’m not a celebrity, though many people know who I am. But that’s not why they’re staring.”
“No?”
“It’s you.”
Carol gave a self-deprecating snort of laughter. “I’m disappointed. I thought your flattery would be a little more sophisticated than that.”
Tadeusz breathed deeply. “No, that wasn’t flattery. Which is not to say that you’re not beautiful enough to turn heads.” He gave a short sharp sigh. “This is going to sound crazy.”
“Oh yes?” Carol reckoned Caroline Jackson would be suspicious by now and she worked on the matching facial expression.
Tadeusz studied his cigar. Impatient, he stubbed it out in the ashtray. “You have a remarkable resemblance to someone.”
“What? I have a double who’s famous in Germany?”
He shook his head. “No, not like that.” He shifted awkwardly in his seat. “You’re the spitting image of a woman called Katerina Basler. She was my lover. That’s why people are staring.”
Carol raised her eyebrows. “They think you’ve replaced Katerina with a lookalike?”
He shrugged. “I guess.”
“How long ago did you two break up?”
He cleared his throat. She could see the pain in his face, but she couldn’t afford to indicate that she knew why he deserved sympathy. So she waited. “We didn’t break up,” he eventually said. He reached for his wine glass and emptied the contents in one long gulp. “She died, Caroline.”
Carol had known this moment would come, and she had thought long and hard about how to play it. Shock, obviously. She’d have to act astonished. Appalled, even. Affronted would have to come into the equation somewhere along the line too. She let her face go slack, her mouth falling open.
That was the moment the waiter chose to appear, asking what they wanted to drink. Distracted, Tadeusz spread his hands in a gesture of confusion.
“Scotch,” Carol said decisively. “Large, on the rocks.”
“Cognac,” Tadeusz said, waving the waiter away.
Carol concentrated on keeping the look of pitying horror on her face. “She died?”
He nodded, eyes downcast again. “A couple of months ago. A road accident. A stupid, stupid road accident.”
“God, I’m so sorry,” she said. It wasn’t an act this time. She’d have needed a harder heart not to have been moved by his obvious grief.
He shook his head. “It is I who should apologize. I didn’t mean to impose this on you.”
Impulsively, she reached out and covered his hand with hers. “It’s not an imposition. I’m glad you told me. I was beginning to feel paranoid. But, Tadzio, that’s terrible for you. I can’t imagine how I’d feel if that happened to someone I loved.”
“No. It’s not imaginable.” He looked at her wit
h a pained smile. “I think everyone who truly loves another person has terrible guilty fantasies about how they would feel if their lover died. I think that’s common, probably even natural. But there is nothing that prepares you for the reality. All your certainties disappear. If this can happen to you, anything can. It’s like you lose your anchor to reality.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said. “And you say I look like Katerina?”
He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yes. You could be her sister.”
“No wonder you freaked out when you saw me last night,” Carol said, her voice soft. “I had no idea, Tadzio. You must believe me, I had no idea.”
“Why would you? You had no way of knowing. Colin never met Katerina, he couldn’t have told you.” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry. When I suggested we get to know each other better, this wasn’t what I had in mind.”
“No, I can see that.”
Before she could say more, the waiter arrived with their drinks. Carol wasn’t in the habit of drinking Scotch in the middle of the day, but Caroline Jackson would need a stiff pick-me-up after Tadeusz’s bombshell, so she took a healthy mouthful right away.
Tadeusz sipped his brandy and gave her a tired smile. “So, now you know probably the most important thing about me right now. Why don’t you tell me something about yourself?”
Carol shrugged. “I’ve nothing to say that comes close.”
“I don’t want this to be some solemn, grim meeting,” he said. “As I said, I think we can maybe do business, but I need to have more of a sense of you before I’m prepared to make any kind of commitment. So, tell me about yourself.” He raised one finger. “But before you do, let’s order some food.”
They scrutinized the menus, Carol asking for his recommendations. She settled on a traditional German fish dish, while Tadeusz ordered steak. By the time the waiter left, he was back in total command of himself. “OK,” he said. “Tell me about Caroline Jackson.”
She raised her glass and clinked it against the rim of his. “Once upon a time…” she said, a quirky smile lifting one corner of her mouth. After all, she was telling a story. And she needed to make it very convincing indeed.
24
Petra walked into the health club, gym bag over her shoulder. Setting this place up as a meeting point had been one of her best ideas. The minimum membership period was three months, and she was determined to make the most of it. She had already spent an hour working out in the well-equipped gym first thing that morning. She’d told Plesch she’d dropped by to book the private sauna for that afternoon’s debrief, but she’d left herself enough time to take full advantage of the facilities. This liaison job was certainly giving her a taste for the good life. The opera last night, lunch in a restaurant that was well outside her salary bracket, and access to one of the best leisure clubs in the city. All this and the best possible chance to nail Radecki.
Of course, it wasn’t all fun and games. When Carol had e-mailed her to pass on the details of her lunch date with Radecki, Petra had had to use all her charms to get a last-minute table somewhere so fashionable. Even worse, she’d had to take The Shark along with her for camouflage. He’d been the only member of the team who wasn’t too busy to come out to lunch. It really was a pity that Marijke wasn’t a Berlin cop, she’d thought regretfully, and not for the first time. The Shark had bored her stupid with tales of his attempts at digging up information on Marlene Krebs and her missing daughter, but at least she’d been able to tune him out and keep an eye on Carol. And when he’d suggested he accompany her that afternoon, she’d sent him off to chase his tail again. She reckoned that there weren’t many people Darko Krasic would trust to look after Marlene’s kid, so she told The Shark to abandon Marlene for now and concentrate on finding out who Krasic might have dumped Tanja with. He wouldn’t get anywhere, of course, but at least it would keep him out from under her feet.
Petra collected the sauna key from the front desk and went through to the changing rooms. Carol wasn’t due for another twenty minutes, so she reckoned she had time for a quick swim. She ploughed up and down the pool for a dozen lengths, thinking about the serial killer case. There was still nothing from Europol, but, realistically, she couldn’t expect anything before tomorrow at the earliest. At least Bremen hadn’t questioned her request for copies of their case material. Sometimes there were distinct advantages to working for Criminal Intelligence. It might piss off local officers, but she could always pull the “need to know” line when she really wanted access. She hoped Tony had found it useful. A profile would give them a head start, she knew.
By the time she returned to the changing rooms, Carol was sitting on a bench, wearing nothing but a bath sheet. There were a couple of other women getting changed, so the two police officers ignored each other. But under cover of opening her locker and heading for the showers, Petra unobtrusively dropped the sauna key in Carol’s lap.
Five minutes later, they were side by side on the wooden bench, naked save for the sheen of sweat on their skin. Petra couldn’t help admiring the sleek lines of Carol’s body, the well-defined shoulders and thighs and the flat stomach. Not that she was tempted, but it would have been perverse not to notice, she told herself. “Did anyone follow you from the restaurant?” she asked.
“I don’t think so,” Carol said. “I was expecting a tail, but I didn’t spot one. You came out behind me, didn’t you? Did you see anyone?”
“No. And that surprised me too. I felt sure he’d have you under surveillance by now. He’s normally so circumspect, I can’t believe he’s leaving you alone.”
“Maybe he’s still dazzled by my resemblance to Katerina.”
Petra wiped her damp forehead. “Even if Radecki is walking around in a daze, I can’t believe Darko Krasic isn’t on the ball.”
Carol shrugged. “Maybe he hasn’t told Krasic about me yet.”
Petra looked sceptical. “I don’t see it. And I don’t think Radecki is completely blinded by your looks. I spoke to your man Gandle earlier this afternoon, and he told me that one of your undercover colleagues in the UK got a call from Radecki himself last night. Apparently he claimed he was Krasic, but from the report of how good the guy’s English was, it sounds as though it was Radecki himself.”
“That must have been when he left the box at the second interval.” Carol leaned forward and ladled more water on the hot coals. Steam hissed and the temperature shot up, making her a little light-headed.
Petra nodded. “Radecki was looking for someone who could vouch for you personally. He was told you were very good at what you do, but that you’re also a loner and very cautious about who you work with. I must say, your people have calculated exactly what will appeal to Radecki.”
“We couldn’t have done it without help from you, Petra.”
She smirked, pleased at the compliment. “So, how was lunch?”
Carol told her about Tadeusz’s admission that he recognized her resemblance to Katerina. “I almost felt sorry for him,” she said. “It’s obvious that he absolutely adored her.”
“Even if that’s true, it still doesn’t stop him dealing in the sort of racket that robs other people of the ones they love.”
“Oh, I know. It’s not that I think it excuses anything, just that it’s hard not to be touched by someone who’s in that much pain. Even if you think almost everything else about them is repellent.”
“So, did you manage to get him to talk about business?”
Carol wiped sweat from her face. “No. And I didn’t push it. He kept saying he wanted to get to know me better before he would consider any professional liaison. That’s obviously why he chose such a public place. Nobody in their right mind would try to have a private conversation there. Besides, if he’s been briefed that I’m the sort who takes care, he must have known I wouldn’t broach anything as sensitive as business arrangements where we could be overheard.”
“You gave him your cover story?”
“I made h
im work for it. But yes, I made sure he has enough information to check me out. Morgan’s people set up a load of false records and planted stuff where it can be found without too much difficulty. If he follows up what I gave him today, Caroline Jackson will check out all over town.”
“Did you arrange to meet him again?”
“He found out that I like messing around on boats. So tomorrow he’s taking me out on the Spree. He has a little launch, he says. That probably means a forty-foot gin palace.”
“No, I know his boat. It’s quite a fast little motor boat with a small cabin. He’ll probably take you round the city ring of the river and canals. We should be able to keep an eye on you from land, because there’s a speed limit and a few locks to slow you down.” Petra groaned. “I bet I have to spend the afternoon on a bike.”
Carol pushed herself off the bench. “Exercise is good for you. I’ve got to shower,” she added. “I’m dying here. Are you coming?”
Petra followed her out of the sauna into the cold showers on the wall opposite. Both women gasped as the stream of freezing water needled their skin, snapping the open pores shut in shock. Carol chickened out first, jumping clear and running back into the sauna, and Petra joined her moments later. “Bloody hell, that was cold,” Carol said, more in admiration than complaint.
“It’s good for the heart.”
“Kill or cure. There’s one thing about being on a boat with Tadeusz,” she said, getting straight back to business. “We’ll be private. He’ll feel able to talk.”
“It’s a pity we can’t wire you up,” Petra said.
Carol gave her an odd look. Had she finally found a chink in the German detective’s briefing? “I don’t need to be wired.”
“Oh, I know, it’s a risk we can’t afford to take.”
“No, I mean, there’s no need.” Carol took in the puzzlement on Petra’s face. “They didn’t tell you, did they?”
“Tell me what?”
Carol rubbed her towel over her damp shoulders and leaned back against the hot wooden wall. “I have an eidetic memory for speech.”