“Cool,” Grier said, impressed.
“Paul, has Miller received any more telephone calls?” Tyler asked.
“No, sir,” Evans said. “But the recording equipment is all in place so, if he does call, we should get a good quality recording of his voice. Also, we’ve received permission from her editor to install a similar recording device at her office, and that goes in later today.”
“Right, so we’ve now gone through all the evidence relating to the three victims,” Jack said. “As you can see, we are slowly putting together a very solid case against the killer, and I’m confident that when we do finally catch him the evidence will be overwhelming. The problem is catching him in the first place. At the moment, we have no suspects, although we do have one Person of Interest, Dr James Sadler.”
“For those of you who don’t yet know,” Dillon said, taking over the narrative, “on 27th October, a few days before Tracey Phillips was murdered, the GMC received an anonymous tip off from a female who claimed Sadler was giving out controlled drugs in exchange for sexual favours. I should point out that his prescribing history has been checked and does not support this allegation. Sadler, it turns out, is the GP for two of our victims, Pilkington and Rye. Whitey obtained their medical records last Friday, and I feel obliged to say that Sadler made no effort to block the request. The only thing that bothers me a little bit is that when Charlie told him their names and showed him their photographs, he claimed not to recognise either one.”
“In his defence, boss,” Charlie cut in, “he did say he sees so many people that they all blur into one.”
“Also,” Deakin said, “the name James Sadler isn’t on my list of people who withdrew money from the ATM. The nearest match to it is someone called Nadia Sadler, and she made a withdrawal of one-hundred-pounds.”
“Have you compared their addresses?” Jack asked. “Just to make sure she’s not his wife.”
Deakin looked up from his list, and Jack could see that he was a little embarrassed. “Er, no, sorry, I didn’t, but I’ll do it as soon as the meeting is over.”
“Reggie’s put in a subs request on the number the GMC were called from,” Dillon said, continuing from where he had left off. “That should be back in today or tomorrow. If it relates to a pay phone that’s covered by CCTV, we might get some footage of the caller. If not –” he shrugged – “there’s probably not a lot more we can do in relation to Sadler at this moment in time.”
“So,” Tyler said. “If anyone has any bright ideas about what else we could be doing to catch the swine responsible for killing these women we’d very much like to hear them.”
Silence.
A few coughs and someone’s shoe tapping against the leg of a chair.
“No suggestions?” Tyler said.
“I suggest we break for coffee,” Dillon said, stifling a yawn.
There were universal nods of agreement.
Tyler gave him a ‘well, that wasn’t particularly helpful’, look. “Before we stop, I want to briefly discuss what makes our killer tick. Yesterday, I spent an hour on the phone with a forensic psychologist the National Crime Faculty recommended, and I have commissioned him to prepare a profile for us. In the meantime, I’m gonna run you through the psychobabble he shared with me. It might help us to develop a better understanding of our quarry.”
Steve Bull didn’t have much faith in psychologists. “You’d have got more insight from reading one of Mr Dillon’s Beano comics, boss,” he told Tyler.
“Let’s get on with it, shall we, Jack,” Holland instructed, giving Tyler the feeling that the boss was starting to get a little tetchy. Maybe it was just the fact that the cost of using the NCF recommended expert to prepare a profile was probably going to be in the region of several thousand pounds, and he didn’t take kindly to one of his staff effectively saying the whole thing was a complete waste of time and money.
“Quite often, or so I’m told, serial killers don’t have a discernible motive, although they do tend to follow a predictable pattern. On reflection, I think that describes our suspect rather well. They usually operate in defined geographical areas –”
“Like Whitechapel?” Jarvis asked.
“Yes, Dick, like Whitechapel. Often, but not always, the killings are sexually motivated. They certainly seem to be in this case. Unlike in the films, where the killer is always a dysfunctional loner, the majority of serial killers don’t live alone; they hide in plain sight by having families and being gainfully employed. And it’s a misnomer that once they start killing, they can’t stop. My greatest fear with this bastard,” Jack confided, “is that he will stop killing as suddenly as he started and disappear back into the woodwork without a trace.”
“Don’t worry, Jack, we’ll get him, even if he goes to ground,” Dillon said, and the sentiment was immediately echoed around the room with such passion that it made Tyler feel humbled.
“Serial killers tend to have a type,” he said when they had quietened down. “For instance, Ted Bundy’s victims were all pretty young girls, college students if I remember correctly. They were all similar in appearance to a woman who had jilted him because she thought he was all mouth and trousers and was never going to amount to anything.”
“Who’s Ted Bundy?” Grier asked.
“He was a famous American serial killer who kidnapped, raped and murdered numerous women in the seventies, long before you were born,” Holland said.
“As for having a type, I thought our killer had a vendetta against prostitutes, at first,” Tyler said, “but I’ve had to recalibrate that theory in light of Geraldine Rye’s murder. Now I’m wondering if he just hates all women. Either way, something must have set him off. I mean
