Liar Liar_Another gripping serial killer thriller from the bestselling author

by Sarah Flint

  At 22.00 hours he would receive further instructions on the new phone, but until then he must get prepared and wait. Wait and be ready to act when instructed.

  ‘Do you understand?’ the voice said calmly at the end of the conversation.

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I understand.’

  ‘You know you must follow all my instructions? Every single one, exactly. You won’t let me down, will you?’

  ‘No, I won’t,’ he said.

  ‘You’d better not,’ the voice soothed. ‘I can’t work with failures.’

  *

  Charlie watched Ben as he shuffled across the common towards her. Nothing had changed since Tuesday evening; even her harsh words having failed to provoke a reaction. Today everything about him screamed defeat.

  She glanced at her watch. He was here at least and punctual, but this was clearly yet another bad day. She swallowed her disappointment and kissed him lightly on the cheek, ignoring the waft of cigarettes and body odour that clung to his clothing.

  ‘Right, let’s get you in to see what Anna can do with you this week.’ She tried to sound cheerful.

  He smiled, but his face remained static, frozen within the current nightmare that his PTSD had thrown at him during the hours of darkness. Once again, she longed for the Ben that had been her saviour such a short time ago, but once again, she watched as the door shut behind him, knowing that she might never get him back.

  After he’d gone, Charlie lay on the grass and closed her eyes, waiting for the hour to be over. Saffron Bolt’s words had provoked further ambiguities, which hopefully Anna could answer. After a while she jumped up, jogged to the nearby shop and bought some bottled water, returning just as Ben emerged from the psychologist’s door, blinking in the bright sunshine.

  ‘I’m gonna beat this, Charlie,’ he grinned optimistically, as he did at the end of every session. ‘I’ll show you I can be bothered.’

  ‘OK soldier,’ she said just as optimistically. She threw a bottle of water towards him and he caught it with one hand, laughing with delight. ‘Wait here. I’m just going to have a quick word with Anna.’

  She sprinted away into the gloom of Anna Christophe’s consulting room, turning as she did so to check that Ben was staying put. He was; his head tilted backwards, letting the sun shine across his face. For a second she stopped to take in the sight, her heart leaping at the momentary glow of optimism across his handsome features. He deserved so much more.

  Anna was standing at the top of the stairs as Charlie mounted them two at a time.

  ‘Woah there,’ she laughed. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure? I take it you’re not here to talk about yourself?’

  Charlie frowned mischievously. ‘Of course not but… I was hoping you could clear up something I’ve been wondering about.’

  ‘You’d better come in then and I’ll try to help.’

  She followed the psychologist through to the treatment room and pulled up a seat, careful to skirt right around the couch. Even the sight of it made her shudder. ‘In a minute I’m going to be testing your knowledge of all things psychological, but before I do can I just ask how’s Ben doing?’ She held her hands up. ‘And before you tell me you can’t discuss individual cases, all I need to know is if there is anything I, personally, can do to help him.’

  Anna rubbed a finger across her lips and concentrated. ‘He needs something, or someone, to keep him motivated throughout the whole week. I know you try, but you have your work, and, as you well know, you’re half the problem.’ She paused and smiled sympathetically at Charlie. ‘He’s very lucky to have you though Charlie, we all know that, but he needs a routine. So… if you want to help, try to think of something to keep him busy, a hobby, an interest, even if it’s temporary, something he has to get up for in the morning. He needs something new.’

  Charlie nodded enthusiastically. ‘I’ve got a few ideas, Anna. I’ll come back to you when I’ve worked them out.’ She looked up and grinned. ‘Right, my question. I’ll get straight to the point. Could someone diagnosed as a psychopath be controlled by another person?’

  ‘Wow, just a little query then!’ Anna Christophe tilted her head to one side. ‘It would be unusual but not impossible. A psychopath doesn’t usually like following orders. They like to live by their own rules and they don’t care about what anyone else thinks. However, if they actually enjoyed doing what’s been asked of them, they might let the person think they have control.’

  ‘What about if that other person is also a psychopath?’

  ‘OK, interesting. Let me think.’ She paused for a minute before starting. ‘Again, it would be hard to imagine that they could be completely controlled, but they could make it appear so, particularly if a course of action appealed to them both. It’s fairly rare though, thankfully; psychopaths don’t tend to like each other. If two did get together, however, they might enjoy trying to manipulate the other, to pit themselves against their adversary, see who wins. If they were truly to work together in a criminal partnership, well, it could be catastrophic, both pushing the other to commit worse and worse offences, both seeking the ultimate thrill.’

  Charlie knew exactly what Anna meant. She’d witnessed the crime scenes. ‘So a psychopath could theoretically have their strings pulled by another, but they would have to want to do it too?’

  ‘Yes, they could.’ She paused briefly. ‘Do you want me to explain the make-up of psychopaths? Their personalities can be split up into four distinctive personality traits.’

  Charlie nodded. She found this sort of information intriguing.

  Anna Christophe pulled a chair out from under her desk and sat down. ‘Well there are four main traits associated with psychopathy and sociopathy. They are antisocial traits, interpersonal traits, affective traits and lifestyle traits.’ She pulled a book out from a shelf above her desk but laid it on the table unopened, before continuing. ‘Antisocial traits include childhood behavioural disturbance, pre-teen and teenage delinquency and, very often, involvement in criminality. Research has shown that psychopaths are born with a predisposition to antisocial behaviour or psychopathy but this doesn’t usually come to fruition unless the person also grows up in an unhealthy environment. A full-blown psychopath almost always comes from an abusive or disturbed background, with harsh or inconsistent parenting.’

  Charlie concentrated on Anna’s words carefully. The psychologist could almost be describing Samson’s early years, watching his parents burn to death and then having no stability or consistency, with continual medical issues and schooling challenges; certainly, his criminal behaviour had started young. Maybe it was already too late for him by the time he met Saffron Bolt. She had to ask. ‘Could a teacher stop a thirteen-year-old child from becoming a psychopath? Get them to obey rules and do what they asked?’

  ‘It’s probably too late by then. By that age it’s more likely that the young psychopath would be testing their own capacity to play the teacher. It’s the second sign, what are called interpersonal traits, or the ability to manipulate and deceive. The child might want to get extra status or enhanced privileges, so they could try to start a particular friendship with a teacher in order to get these. It might look to the teacher like they are being successful, but really the child is learning how to behave in a certain way to get what they want.’

  ‘And if that teacher made a comment by accident that might suggest an action, would the child be likely to do it, even if it was inherently wrong?’

  ‘Yes, the young psychopath could well do it, believing that they would benefit from executing what the teacher suggested.’

  ‘Even if it meant beating up another child?’

  ‘Possibly even more so. So-called affective traits are also a symptom of psychopathic behaviour. They include callousness towards others, limited emotional responsiveness, avoiding personal responsibility and an absence of guilt or regret. In other words, a psychopath would know the action is wrong but they don’t care.’

  Charlie shoo
k her head in disbelief. So Samson Powell had happily beaten Ashley Pitcorn to a pulp not only because he’d hoped to please his teacher but also because he’d enjoy the chance to demonstrate his violence; and if it didn’t work he didn’t really care. The assault and damage was just a chance to show off his power. Maybe he’d got Ms Bolt fooled, but then… she’d been adamant that he was vulnerable. Who knew? ‘And the fourth trait?’ she said finally.

  ‘Lifestyle traits,’ Anna replied. ‘Such as impulsive behaviour and the pursuit of stimulating experiences. Psychopaths often indulge in risky or deviant sexual practices or the pursuit of more and more violent and exhilarating experiences.’

  ‘Like murder?’

  ‘At the furthest extreme, but yes it could include killing. Basically they can’t handle the fact that life is sometimes dull and they crave more and more stimuli. If they are unemployed they often commit crime. If they are able to get irregular jobs, they will often move around, changing from one to another, but psychopaths vary greatly. Some have successfully held down jobs and marriages. For example, a man called Gary Ridgeway, better known as the Green River Killer, was married and stayed in his job for twenty-three years, as well as being a regular attendee at church. He killed forty-eight women over twenty years and no one ever suspected him.’ She paused, flicking the book open, before shutting it again.

  ‘Others are academics or charmers and can be very successful at hiding their lack of regard for anyone or anything. Ted Bundy was handsome and charismatic but was one of the most notorious serial killers in America in the 1970s. He killed at least thirty young women, seducing his victims into trusting him. Whether they work or don’t work, psychopaths think they are the most important beings on the planet. Everything revolves around them, and that includes their associates. They are excellent at spotting the weak and vulnerable and will positively thrive on making them bend to their will, getting them to provide everything they need, financially, physically or materially.’

  Charlie thought immediately of Lisa Forrester used and abused by Samson for years, a victim of his lusts… but also able to extract what she needed from the relationship. Maybe she too had psychopathic tendencies? Maybe she recognised in him a kindred spirit, able to move on if necessary but remaining teamed up with him in a toxic combination while it suited them both. Maybe though, just like Ms Saffron Bolt, she may have believed there was some good in the man, that Samson Powell was, after all, capable of loving her.

  ‘So, if two psychopaths come together is one likely to be more dominant?’

  ‘It depends on each pairing. You’ve only got to read the papers, especially with Ian Brady dying recently. He and Myra Hindley are a good example. Brady was a psychopath who revelled in fetishes. Hindley was initially thought to be a naive teenager, totally taken in by him, but research has now suggested she too had psychopathic traits. She certainly wasn’t a submissive accomplice. Brady might have called the shots initially but we’ll never know who ended up enjoying their twisted pleasures more.’

  ‘I was born after they were locked up but I still remember my mum talking about them and what they did. I’m glad they’re both dead now. They even looked evil.’ Charlie shuddered involuntarily at the memory, thinking of Samson Powell’s sinister custody image. ‘What about suicide? Are psychopaths likely to take their own lives?’

  Anna turned and looked at Charlie thoughtfully. ‘This isn’t about anybody you know personally is it?’

  Charlie smiled. She might have unresolved issues from her childhood but she’d never turned her problems inwards. She was all about fighting. ‘No, no, don’t worry. Just someone I’ve come across recently, in a professional capacity.’

  ‘Ah, OK,’ Anna nodded. ‘I don’t like talking about suicide unless I know why.’

  ‘I understand,’ Charlie urged. ‘Go on.’

  ‘Well in that case, no, they don’t usually take their own lives. Psychopaths are devoid of emotion so they don’t tend to worry about life issues as most of us do. Many of those locked up for murder will spend their whole lives behind bars rather than kill themselves, because it suits them better to live. That said, some might try as a means of manipulation; Ian Brady again, for example, tried to kill himself by going on a hunger strike. The courts ruled that he should be kept alive by force-feeding so he couldn’t win. Why he chose this particular method is interesting though, possibly to get publicity, but more likely as a way of testing his manipulative skills and relieving the boredom. He’d have had perfect control until the time when he’d lapse into a coma. A bit of game-playing to while away the time.’

  ‘Very interesting.’ Charlie was genuinely intrigued, but Samson Powell’s suicide didn’t really fit this bill. Nobody knew what he was about to do, except perhaps the one person on the other end of the phone. ‘Any other reasons?’

  ‘Well, they might choose to commit suicide if it suits the situation. Harold Shipman hanged himself in his cell, partly because he thought it might financially benefit his wife Primrose, but also because it meant he had total control over the authorities who wanted him to attend courses aimed at making him confess. It was planned and carried out as meticulously as his murders. He had a reason to die and therefore it suited him.’

  ‘Like, if they were about to be arrested and put away for life? Or to taunt the authorities? “You can’t punish me because I’m dead.” That sort of thing?’

  ‘Yes, either of those reasons. As a means of rationally controlling what happened to them, or game-playing. They win because they take away the opportunity to get even.’

  ‘What about,’ Charlie’s mind was racing, ‘if they had lost somebody important in their life?’

  ‘Hmm. Well on an emotional level, the majority of psychopaths wouldn’t care if they ever saw that person again, but there are the odd exceptions. Fred and Rosemary West, for example, were a particularly interesting couple. They murdered twelve people including Fred’s pregnant lover, his daughter and the daughter they had together. Fred had a low IQ and a high drive for sexual deviancy. Rose was his perfect partner, more than competing with his needs.’

  Anna reached across for the book and flicked through it until she reached a page showing a photo of the Wests. Charlie leant across and stared at the innocuous-looking faces of the two serial killers. Rosemary stared out from the page, prim and proper with a dark fringe and large square glasses framing startlingly dead eyes. Fred sat curly-haired and grinning, his gap-toothed expression somehow exhibiting a glimpse of pathos, a doe-eyed acceptance that maybe he needed Rose more than she needed him.

  She was reminded again, as she looked at Fred West, of the face of the dead Samson Powell, sad and pathetic, a man predisposed to antisocial tendencies but moulded by the horrific deaths of his parents and his ensuing upbringing. He had died with a photo of his mother in his pocket, a tiny hint at the depths of his psyche, that perhaps he had a vulnerability and wasn’t all evil. Perhaps Saffron Bolt, the woman who looked like his mother, had recognised this, after all. Perhaps another psychopath had recognised this too.

  Anna pointed at the photo and continued. ‘Fred was charged with murder, but when Rose was arrested, she rebuffed his attempt to touch her at a remand hearing and then ignored a love letter he wrote from his prison cell. In Fred’s warped mind the rejection was more powerful than any revulsion or remorse he had for his actions. He committed suicide in prison on New Year’s Day, before he could face trial. We’ll never know whether he did it because he was upset at her rejection, or so outraged that he exacted his revenge by leaving her to deal with their convictions alone. So… it’s certainly possible that being left could be the trigger for suicide.’

  Charlie reached across and shut the book. The image of Rose West’s dark, cold eyes disturbed her.

  ‘One last question then. Might a psychopath commit suicide if somebody told them to?’

  Anna frowned. ‘Well… I suppose it’s a possibility. Psychopaths are prone to risk-taking and impulsive behaviour but
it would have to suit them too. If the other person is a psychopath, it could be part of their power games. “See what happens to you now if I do kill myself.” “You need me as much as I need you.” That sort of thing.’ Anna stood up, her frown even deeper. ‘But if there is someone else out there calling the shots, someone that your person was working with, why would they tell your person to kill themselves?’

  Charlie glanced towards the closed book as a thought surfaced that until now she hadn’t wanted to entertain. As the thought solidified in her head she stared at the woman opposite her, comprehending Anna’s concern and said aloud the words that they were both thinking.

  ‘Unless they have someone else lined up to take their place!’

  Chapter 29

  PC Jason Lloyd checked himself in the rear-view mirror of his car and liked what he saw. Clean-cut charm, with a hint of mischief; or at least that’s how he’d described his looks on his dating profiles. ‘If you want a touch of romance, a touch of class or just a touch – I’m the one for you,’ he’d typed into his personal summary, adding three winking emojis.

  Subtlety was not Jason’s strong point, but then subtlety was outdated and overrated these days, as was patience, honour and respect. Women wanted to know what they were getting, and with him, they were getting the lot; brawn, brains and a body that would keep the Incredible Hulk green with envy.

  He ran his tongue over his lips and popped another mint into his mouth, grinning into the mirror again, his teeth held firmly together and his eyes scanning across each pearly white for any sign of discolouration. He’d recently paid a fortune to have them whitened, but the money had been well-spent. Women were transfixed by their perfection. One lopsided smile and they were putty in his hands. He’d practised that too. It was no use having a strong forehead, piercingly dark irises and a masculine smattering of stubble across his angular jaw, if he didn’t have cuteness. Excessive testosterone was daunting to most females. A wonky grin, a suggestion of vulnerability and a single dimple provided the rebalance, even though it had taken many years perfecting the art. He checked in the mirror again and winked. Matt Damon eat your heart out.