‘I try not to judge people on their sexuality.’
‘But you do judge them, every day in your consulting room.’
‘I no longer have a clinical practice, but when I did I tried to help people.’
‘Have you ever had a patient who didn’t want to be gay?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you try to fix them?’
‘There was nothing to fix. I can’t change someone’s sexuality. I help them come to terms with who they are. I help them cope with their own nature.’
The DI dries her hands and sits down again, reaching for her cigarettes. Lights one.
‘You finish the psychological profile?’
I nod. The crunch of wheels on gravel signals an arrival outside. Safari Roy has come to take her to Trinity Road.
‘I got a morning briefing. You should come.’
Roy knocks on the door and comes inside. He dips his head in greeting.
‘You ready, boss?’
‘Yeah. The Prof is coming with us.’
Roy looks at me. ‘Always room.’
The incident room is busier and noisier than before. There are more detectives and civilian support staff, inputting data and cross-referencing the details of each crime. This is now an official murder investigation with task force status.
Sylvia Furness has her own whiteboard, alongside Christine Wheeler’s. Thick black lines are drawn between family members, colleagues and mutual friends.
The taskforce has been split into two teams. One team has already devoted hundreds of hours to tracking down every person who was in Leigh Woods, locating vehicles, checking alibis and studying CCTV cameras.
It has also focused on Christine Wheeler’s debts and dealings with a local loan shark called Tony Naughton, whose name appeared in her phone records. Naughton has been questioned but has an alibi for Friday October 5. Half a dozen drinkers say he was in a pub from early afternoon until closing time. The same half-dozen who give him an alibi every time he’s pulled in by the police.
I listen as Veronica Cray brings everyone up to speed on the previous twenty-four hours.
‘Whoever killed Sylvia Furness knew about the handcuffs which means we could be looking at a former boyfriend, a lover, or someone who had access to the house. A tradesman, a cleaner, a friend…’
‘What about the husband?’ asks Monk.
‘He was in Geneva, shacked up with his twenty-six-year-old secretary.’
‘He could have hired someone.’
She nods. ‘We’re looking at his phone records and emails.’
She hands out tasks and then glances quickly at me. ‘Professor O’Loughlin has drawn up a psychological profile. I’ll hand over to him.’
My notes are written on a page, tucked into my jacket pocket. I keep taking them out and glancing at them as if cribbing for a test. I consciously lift my feet and avoid shuffling as I move to the front of the gathering. It’s one those tricks I’ve had to learn since Mr Parkinson arrived. I don’t stand with my feet close together and I try not to pivot when I turn quickly.
‘The man you are looking for is a fully-fledged sexual sadist,’ I announce, pausing for a moment to look at their faces. ‘He didn’t just want to kill these women, he wanted to destroy them physically and mentally; to take bright, vibrant, intelligent women and strip away every last vestige of hope and faith and humanity.
‘You are looking for a male in the same age range as his victims or older. His planning, confidence and degree of control indicate maturity and experience.’
‘He has an above average IQ with high verbal intelligence and good social skills. He will come across as pleasant and confident, almost deceptively charming. For this reason his friends, workmates or drinking buddies are likely to have no idea of his sadistic nature.
‘His formal education won’t match his intelligence. He gets bored easily and is likely to have dropped out of school or university.
‘His organisational skills and methodology suggest military training, but he has reached a point where he won’t take orders unless he respects the person giving them. For this reason, he is likely to be self-employed or work alone. The timings of the killings suggest that he may work flexible hours, nights or weekends.
‘He is likely to be a local, someone who knows the roads, distances and street names. He directed both victims by phone.
He knew where they lived, their phone numbers and when they’d be alone. This took planning and research.
‘He will live alone or with an elderly parent. He needs the freedom to come and go, without having to answer questions from a wife or partner. He may have been married in the past and his hatred towards women could stem from this or another failed relationship or a problem in his childhood with his mother.
‘This man is forensically aware. Apart from the mobile phone he gave to Christine Wheeler, he left nothing behind. And he uses concealing behaviour- buying different handsets under false names, choosing different call boxes and staying on the move.
‘His victims were targeted. The question we have to answer is why and how. They were friends and business partners. They went to school together. They shared dozens of mutual friends and perhaps a hundred acquaintances. They lived in the same city, went to the same hairdresser and used the same dry-cleaning service. Find out why he chose them and we move a step closer to finding him.’
I pause and glance down at my notes, making sure I haven’t left anything out. My left forefinger has begun twitching but my voice is strong. I bob gently on my toes and begin pacing and talking at the same time. Their eyes move with me.
‘I think our perpetrator convinced each woman that they had no choice but to co-operate or their daughters would suffer. This suggests that he is supremely confident verbally but I think there is a question mark over his physical confidence. He didn’t overpower these women with brute force. He used his voice to intimidate and control. He may lack the courage for a face-to-face confrontation.’
‘He’s a coward,’ says Monk.
‘Or he’s not physically strong.’
DI Cray wants more practical information. ‘What are the chances that he’s an old boyfriend or spurned lover?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘Why?’
‘If either victim had escaped or been rescued they could have identified an old boyfriend or lover. I doubt if he’d take this risk. There’s another issue. Would these women have followed his commands so completely if they knew him? The unknown voice is more frightening; more intimidating…’
Someone coughs. I pause, wondering if it’s a signal. There are muffled comments.
‘This leads me to another point,’ I say. ‘He might not physically have touched them.’
Nobody reacts. Monk speaks first. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The victims might not have seen him.’
‘But Sylvia Furness was handcuffed to a tree.’
‘She could have done that to herself.’
‘What about the hood?’
‘She could have done that too.’
I explain the evidence. The field was muddy. Only one set of footprints was found beneath the tree. There was no evidence of sexual assault or defence wounds. No other tyre tracks led to the field.
‘I’m not saying that he didn’t visit the scene in advance- he chose it very carefully. I also think he was nearby- the mobile signals indicate as much- but I don’t think she saw him. I don’t think he touched her- not physically.’
‘He fucked with her mind,’ says Safari Roy.
I nod.
