“But there are no lividity markings, Mack, so he must have moved her straight after she was killed.”
“I agree, which probably means he killed her nearby and then brought her here in a vehicle,” the doctor said.
The rain was a damned nuisance. They would be lucky to find any trace evidence from last night. It was another stroke of luck for the killer. So far, things were definitely going his way.
Hopefully, there would be CCTV covering the route into this place. If they could identify the killer’s vehicle it would even the odds a little. Jack looked around the square. There were several wall-mounted cameras, but they all seemed to be pointing inwards, along the building line.
“One more thing that I feel I should mention,” Mackintosh said reluctantly. He removed the gloves as he stood.
“Go on,” Tyler said, eying him pensively.
“The cuts I’ve seen today strike me as anything but random, and I think your killer might have some sort of medical background. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if the PM reveals he’s been harvesting organs. Was anything missing from the last one?”
Jack shook his head. “No, not unless you count a section of her intestine, but we put that down to the fact that the killer had shredded her abdomen and rearranged her innards to taunt us. Tell me, Mack, did you suspect that the killer had medical knowledge when you examined the Phillips girl?” Jack asked.
The doctor hesitated a moment and then nodded. “I had my suspicions, but I wasn’t sure, and as a professional, I only deal in solid facts.”
“Well, between you and me, the pathologist shares your view that the killer has, at the very least, some rudimentary medical knowledge” Tyler confided. “But that’s not public knowledge, and I would appreciate you keeping it to yourself for the time being.”
“Don’t worry; you can rely on my discretion, Jack. I won’t mention this to anyone else,” Mackintosh promised.
◆◆◆
As the car pulled up in Hanbury Street, Julie turned to her friend with a look of trepidation.
“Look, Terri, I’ve been thinking. Maybe we shouldn’t do this. Let’s just call the police and let them handle it. It’s what they get paid for. We’ll still get the exclusive. What do you say, um?”
Teresa Miller rolled her eyes. If the truth were known, she wasn’t too sure about this either. But they had talked it over in great detail before coming to their decision – a joint decision, democratically reached. If Julie was going to bottle out, then she should have done so back at the apartment, before Terri had called the city news desk to speak to their editor.
“Christ, Julie! It was hard enough persuading Deakin to let us run with this story in the first place,” Terri said harshly. “Don’t you dare let me down.”
Julie’s bottom lip began to quiver.
Terri closed her eyes and let out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Jules,” she, said, taking her friend’s hand. Her voice was softer, kinder. “I know I act like I’m tough, but trust me, underneath I’m as scared as you. Look, we’ll just make sure that we’re not being taken for a ride by some joker who gets his kicks by scaring the shit out of dumb female reporters. If it’s not a hoax we’ll go straight to the cops. If the girls in those photos arealready dead, then another few minutes won’t hurt, will they?” she reasoned.
“I guess not,” Julie agreed, although she sounded far from convinced. Her earlier resolve to go through with this was rapidly waning now that they were actually here. Still, she had to admit, Terri’s suggestion made sense. And she had come to trust Terri implicitly.
As the two women got out of the car, Julie instinctively checked the settings on her digital camera. Like Terri, she was trying her hardest to establish herself in Fleet Street circles. Her aim was to obtain a permanent photographic post with one of the papers, but so far, the best she had managed was freelance status. There were plenty of freelancers on the circuit, and the competition was fierce, which meant she only worked on a part-time basis. She supplemented her spasmodic income by doing portrait photography at a local studio during the week, and by shooting occasional weddings.
Terri looked at the address she’d written in her notepad, and then started checking house numbers.
“What will we do if someone’s still in there?” Julie fretted. “Or if it’s all locked up?” The whole thing had seemed so incredibly adventurous back at the apartment, the intrepid reporter and her trusty photographer, fearlessly going into the unknown in search of a great story. Now that they had reached their destination, she was having second thoughts. Hell, she was having third, fourth and fifth thoughts as well. “I’m not trying to put obstacles in the way, Terri,” Julie whined, “but what if the killer’s luring us into a trap? We could end up like the poor bitches in those bloody Polaroids.” She was unable to suppress a small but noticeable shudder.
“What was that for?” Terri demanded.
Julie sifted her feet uncomfortably. “I’m scared.”
“Oh, don’t be so silly,” Terri said dismissively. “If he wanted me dead, he would’ve waited outside my apartment door and jumped me as soon as I got home. Why would he bother going to all this trouble?”
“Maybe he wanted to get us both together.”
“Listen, Jules. On the phone, he gave me an address and said I should check it out. He told me it would be empty and the door would be open. If the house we want isn’t both of those things we know that the caller is a crank and we can forget all about it. If he’s right, then we call the police without being made to look like complete fools. Now, are you coming with me or do I go alone?” Terri stared hard at her friend, waiting impatiently for a reply.
“But we don’t even know
