sexual?’
‘See, this is what I mean. I’m not ready to do a full profile yet so I’ve not got all my ducks in a row. But humour me for a moment. For the sake of argument, let’s say this isn’t about sexual gratification.’ He looked expectantly at Ambrose, who sighed again.
‘OK. It’s not about sexual gratification. For the sake of argument. ‘
‘But he cut her vagina, really drove that knife deep into her. Like you said, he made it look like she’d been raped with the knife. What I need to work out is whether he did that deliberately to make us think it was sexual. Or whether he did it for another reason and the fact that it looks sexual is just by the by.’
‘That’s crazy,’ Ambrose said.
He wasn’t the first cop who’d had that response to some of Tony’s wilder ideas. Not all of them had been wrong, but they were in the overwhelming majority. ‘Possibly,’ Tony said. ‘But like I said, I don’t know enough yet for a full profile, and theories based on half the information are more likely to be half-baked. However, when you get away from the unscientific stuff that I specialise in and turn to the hard science options, you can get a lot further with not much to go on.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Algorithms. I spoke to a colleague who’s more familiar with the geographic profiling process than I am. It’s her view that your killer probably lives in South Manchester.’
‘Manchester? You serious?’
‘My colleague is. And she knows this stuff better than anyone. If you remember, when we were at the dump scene I said I thought the location made most sense if the killer wasn’t from round here? Well, it looks like I was right on that at least. Well, if we believe Fiona, I was.’
‘Manchester, though? She can be that accurate?’
‘She’s cautiously confident. She’s sending me a map with the red zone marked on it. It’s the part of town that thinks it’s hip. Students, green politics, vegan grocery store, artisan bakery, media types and lawyers. Very cool. Not the natural stomping ground for a stalker killer, I’d have said. But the algorithms don’t lie. Although because a trail of computer use has different criteria from a series of crimes, they maybe don’t tell quite as accurate a story as usual.’
‘I didn’t know serial killers had a particular habitat,’ Ambrose said.
Tony pondered for a moment. ‘They tend towards rented accommodation. Mostly because they’re not very good at holding down jobs long-term. So their employment history isn’t helpful when it comes to getting a mortgage. So yes, the balance of probabilities is that he lived in rented accommodation. ‘
‘That makes sense.’
Time to turn back to the one thing he knew was important. ‘And so does what I said before, Alvin. I know you said it was crazy, but the more I think about it, the more I believe that really, truly, you need to listen to me on this one. And not just for the sake of argument. This is not a sexual homicide.’
Again, Ambrose took his eyes off the road to look at Tony. This time the car jittered in a slight swerve before he righted it. ‘It still sounds crazy to me.’ He sounded completely incredulous. ‘How could it not be a sexual homicide? Did you not look at the crime-scene photos? Did you not see what he did to her?’
‘Of course I did. But he didn’t spend any time with her, Alvin. He spent weeks getting alongside her, lulling her into a sense of false security. If this was about sex, he’d have kept her for days. Alive or dead, depending on his tastes. He wouldn’t have got rid of her in the time scale we’re talking about here.’
Ambrose gave Tony the look reserved for madmen and weirdos. ‘Maybe he panicked. Maybe the reality was way more extreme than he’d fantasised about. Maybe he just wanted rid.’
It was a possibility Tony had considered as he’d been dropping off to sleep. And he’d dismissed it almost immediately. ‘If that had been the case, he wouldn’t have taken the time and trouble to perform the mutilation. He’d just have killed her and dumped her. Believe me, Alvin, this crime is not about sex.’
‘So what is it about, then?’ Ambrose’s jaw set in a stubborn line, muscles tight, lower lip jutting.
Tony sighed. ‘Like I said. That’s what I don’t know yet. I can’t read it at this point.’
‘So you know what it’s not, but you can’t tell us what it is? Help me out here, Doc. How is this supposed to help us?’ Ambrose sounded angry again. Tony understood why. They’d hoped he’d wave a magic wand and make things better but, so far, all he’d done was create more problems.
‘At least it stops you wasting time in the wrong places. Like your local sex offenders. That’s not who you’re looking for here.’
‘So when will you have a profile that might help us find out who we are looking for?’
‘Soon. Later today, hopefully. I’m hoping Claire will help me understand Jennifer better. Maybe then I can get a sense of what might have motivated someone to kill her. The victim’s always the key, Alvin. One way or another.’
DC Sam Evans was glad to be back in what he regarded as fully fledged civilisation. A place where coffee and bacon butties were possible, where it never got truly dark and where there was always somewhere to shelter from the rain. It didn’t hurt that he’d had the rare pleasure of leaving everybody at the morning briefing gobsmacked.
The only problem now was following up on the small bombshell of the extra body in the lake. He had to walk a tightrope here. While he was waiting for the forensic team to come up with some leads, he had to make it look as if he was busy. If she thought he was twiddling his thumbs, Carol Jordan would reassign him to some donkey work on the live caseload. And if he was out of the office when the forensic evidence came in, someone else could pinch the case from under his nose and nick the glory. And that was something he wasn’t prepared to put up with.
Sam took out his notebook and flicked back a couple of pages, looking for the number of the Cumbrian DI he was supposed to be liaising with. He was about to call him when his mobile rang. He didn’t recognise the number. ‘Hello?’ he said, never willing to give anything away for free.
‘Is that DC Evans?’ It was a woman. She sounded brisk, youngish, confident.
‘Speaking.’
