Michael Fowler - Heart of the Demon

She rinsed out his cup and dropped in a tea bag. “I’m making you tea, too much coffee’s bad for you,” she said turning back to her task.

“Thank you mother.”

“You need mothering,” she retorted, tapping one foot as she impatiently waited for the kettle to boil.

It raised a smile in him. She’s like a breath of fresh air, he thought to himself, if he could only but tell her why he felt so low this morning.

She poured steaming water into two cups. “Anyway I’ve had a very interesting half hour with Duncan Wroe. I called in at the SOCO offices on my way to work, just to see if they had got anything.” She stirred the cups, squeezed out the tea bags and then added milk.

“He’s told me that despite the fact the place was such a shit-hole, most of the surfaces had been wiped clean — and get this — with concentrated bleach.” She set down Hunter’s cup in front of him and sunk into her chair opposite.

Hunter’s face took on a puzzled look.

“That was my reaction,” she added, pointing a finger at him. “Every flat surface; doors, and even the lap-top keyboard. The whole place is clean as a whistle of prints. They’ve found a couple of fresh blood spills in the bathroom; very minute, and they’re fast-tracking those to forensics today.”

“That’s strange,” Hunter responded. A frown creased his forehead.

“That’s what I thought. And also get this — the computer techie says the images of Kirsty, together with its password protection code were only recently added to Collins’s laptop. They think someone else must be involved with Collins, someone who wants to cover up every trace that they were ever there. That’s the only explanation they can give to their findings.”

Hunter pursed his lips, “Someone’s testing us to our limits Grace, and the sooner we get hold of Collins the better.”

A throaty ‘gruumph’ caught their attention and they turned their heads to the front of the room where Detective Superintendent Robshaw was standing in front of the incident boards. This morning another man was in tow, clutching a tumbler of water. Tall and slim in his late forties, stylishly cut gelled hair, tailored striped shirt and designer jeans.

Definitely not cop, thought Hunter.

“Dishy,” whispered Grace in Hunter’s ear.

“Gay,” Hunter shot back.

She elbowed him. “Jealous.”

“Morning Ladies and Gents” The SIO began his morning introduction to briefing. “Can I firstly introduce Dr Paul Stevens, who is a Home Office Criminologist from the Behavioral and Geographical Profiling Unit. Dr Stevens has been reviewing our cases, and visited some of the scenes and is here to give us an insight into the type of person we are looking for. It may help us especially now that we have a chief suspect.”

The Criminologist stepped forward and took a swig of the water.

“Good morning guys,” he began. “Why am I here? You may well ask. One thing I can assure you of is that I am not here to steal your thunder. Your force has asked me to look at all the stages of your investigation to see if I can give an insight into the profile of the person you will be looking for. I was told this morning that you now have a major suspect in the frame for this, so my arrival this morning might be too late. However my thoughts on this case may just assist your interview once you catch him.” He stepped backwards and then began striding across the front of the four wipe boards, one for each of the girls attacked, tapping each one as he passed.

“Firstly let me say that although this may well be the first serial killer investigation you’ve been involved in, for many it may not be your last. At any one time it is statistically known that there are at least two serial killers operating across Britain. I have only to mention Hindley and Brady, Peter Sutcliffe the Yorkshire Ripper, Fred and Rose West and of course most recently, and the most infamous to date, Harold Shipman, to name but a few.” His hands were becoming more and more animated as he got into his stride.

He had already captured Hunter.

“Serial killers fall into two categories, organised, and disorganised. I’ve visited each of the sites where the bodies have been found and also where his last victim was attacked. These are not easy to get to and in the case of the bodies, which have been hidden for a decade, the original tracks to those sites would have only have been known by someone who is local to this area. This is someone who feels confident that they can stop their car and have the time to dig and bury a body. In the most recent case, the attack on Kirsty Evans, that he can secrete himself until she arrives and then have enough time to carry out his attack. The jogger coming along was pure luck.”

Dr Stevens moved across the wipe boards, snatching a quick look at the photographs now affixed to their surfaces. His eyes rested on the time lines of each of the murders.

“The intervals are getting shorter.” He settled himself onto the corner of a desk, pushing back a thigh and dangling one leg for comfort. “He is killing to fulfil a need and the urge to kill is stronger. The nature of his attacks plays a big part in his psyche as well — the strangulation with the belt and then the viciousness of the stabbings. Its frenzy is almost revengeful, punishing.”

“Do you think that’s where the cutting of the word evil into the bodies comes in?” interrupted Hunter.

“Some of that yes. But my personal feeling is that the marking of the girls is about what he thinks of each of the victims. Looking into the background of all these girls, their rebellious social antics, and their activities have made them become his victims. Added to that their physical profiles are all similar, and I would think that somewhere in his past an abusive woman or girl has featured strongly in his life.”

“We’re looking at other girls who are currently outstanding as missing persons. Do you think there is the likelihood that he has killed them?” Grace asked.

“Without reading through their files that is difficult to answer. However, a serial killer does not just emerge by chance. He has grown in confidence and is prepared to let you know which are his victims, and as in the case of Claire Fisher, who he abducted and murdered. My guess is there are still victims out there waiting to be found.”

“We know about his signature marks carved into the torsos of each of the girls, but what is the significance of the playing card?” interjected Hunter.

“I’ve given that some thought. In the Rebecca Morris murder he left the seven of hearts over a gaping wound just above her heart. In the case of the mummified remains of Carol Siddons, although you have not yet found a playing card, the post mortem revealed that her heart had been removed. Finally with Claire Fisher, she was a skeleton so we don’t know if any organs were removed, but he left behind the three of hearts. I think what you have here is the part of the sequence of each of these killings. Claire being his third victim, and Rebecca his seventh. The card suit — the hearts, signifying he has taken their hearts literally and physically.” Dr Stevens took another swig of water, clutched it in both hands and travelled his gaze around the room.

“You have a pattern here. I am pretty confident when I say this guy is local, and given his most recent attacks on Rebecca Morris and her best friend Kirsty Evans, still works or lives around here. He knows his victims, either from his past, or he selects them. He carefully finds a place where he can attack them and also has a safe place where he can dispose of them. This is someone who plans meticulously. It was purely by chance that he was disturbed after killing Rebecca and now this recent attack on Kirsty. It is imperative that you catch him soon because believe me he is not going to stop.”