Michael Connelly - The Concrete Blonde

“On the other hand, behaviorists view paraphilia as learned behaviors. An example being, molestation in the home of a child may trigger similar behavior by him as an adult. The two schools, for lack of a better word, are not that divergent. They are actually quite closer than psychoanalysts and behaviorists usually like to admit.”

He nodded and folded his hands together, seeming to have forgotten the original question.

“You were going to tell us about erotic molds,” Chandler prompted.

“Oh yes, I’m sorry, I lost the train there. Uh, the erotic mold is the description I use to cover the whole shebang of psychosexual desires that go into an individual’s ideal erotic scene. You see, everybody has an ideal erotic scene. This could include the ideal physical attributes of a lover, the location, the type of sex act, the smell, taste, touch, music, whatever. Everything, all the ingredients that go into this individual achieving the ultimate erotic scene. A leading authority on this, out of Johns Hopkins University, calls it a ‘lovemap.’ It is sort of a guide to the ultimate scene.”

“Okay, now in your book, you applied it to sexual murderers.”

“Yes, with five subjects-all convicted of murder involving a sexual motivation or practice-I attempted to trace each man’s erotic mold. To crack it open and trace the parts back to development in childhood. These men had damaged molds, so to speak. I wanted to find where the damage took place.”

“How did you pick your subjects?”

Belk stood up and made an objection and moved to the lectern.

“Your Honor, as fascinating as all of this is, I don’t believe it is on point to this case. I will stipulate Dr. Locke’s expertise in this field. I don’t think we have to go through the history of five other murderers. We are here in trial on a case about a murderer who is not even mentioned in Dr. Locke’s book. I am familiar with the book. Norman Church is not in it.”

“Ms. Chandler?” Judge Keyes said.

“Your Honor, Mr. Belk is correct about the book. It’s about sadistic sex killers. Norman Church is not in it. But its significance to this case will be clear in the next set of questions. I think Mr. Belk realizes this and that is the reason for his objection.”

“Well, Mr. Belk, I think the time for an objection was probably about ten minutes ago. We are well into this line of questioning and I think we need to see it through now. Besides, you are correct about it being rather fascinating. Go on, Ms. Chandler. The objection is overruled.”

Belk dropped back into his chair and whispered to Bosch, “He’s gotta be banging her.” It was said just loud enough that Chandler might have heard him, but not the judge. If she did, she showed nothing.

“Thank you, Your Honor,” she said. “Dr. Locke, Mr. Belk and I were correct when we said that Norman Church was not one of the subjects of your study, were we not?”

“Yes, that is correct.”

“When did the book come out?”

“Just last year.”

“That would be three years after the end of the Dollmaker case?”

“Yes.”

“Well, having been part of the Dollmaker task force and obviously becoming familiar with the crimes, why didn’t you include Norman Church in your study? It would seem to be an obvious choice.”

“It would seem that way but it wasn’t. First of all, Norman Church was dead. I wanted subjects that were alive and cooperative. But incarcerated, of course. I wanted people that I could interview.”

“But of the five subjects you wrote about, only four are alive. What about the fifth, a man named Alan Karps, who was executed in Texas before you even began your book? Why not Norman Church?”

“Because, Ms. Chandler, Karps had spent much of his adult life in institutions. There were voluminous public records on his treatment and psychiatric study. With Church there was nothing. He had never been in trouble before. He was an anomaly.”

Chandler looked down at her yellow pad and flipped a page, letting the point she just scored hang in the quiet courtroom like a cloud of cigarette smoke.

“But you did at least make preliminary inquiries about Church, didn’t you?”

Locke hesitated before answering.

“Yes, I made a very preliminary inquiry. It amounted to contacting his family and asking his wife if she would grant me an interview. She turned me down. Since the man himself was dead and there were no records about him-other than the actual details of the murders, which I was already familiar with-I didn’t pursue it. I went with Karps in Texas.”

Bosch watched Chandler cross several questions off on her legal pad and then flip several pages to a new set. He guessed that she was changing tack.

She said, “While you were working with the task force you drew up a psychological profile of the killer, correct?”

“Yes,” Locke said slowly. He adjusted himself in the chair, straightening up for what he knew was coming.

“What was that based on?”

“An analysis of the crime scenes and method of homicide filtered through what little we know about the deviant mind. I came up with common attributes that I thought might be part of our suspect’s makeup-no pun intended.”

No one in the courtroom laughed. Bosch looked around and saw that the spectator rows were becoming crowded. This must be the best show in the building, he thought. Maybe all of downtown.

“You were not very successful, were you? If Norman Church was the Dollmaker, that is.”

“No, not very successful. But that happens. It’s a lot of guesswork. Rather than a testimonial to my failure, it is more a testimonial to how little we know about people. This man’s behavior did not make so much as a blip on anybody’s radar screen-not counting, of course, the women he killed-until the night he was shot.”

“You speak as if it is a given that Norman Church was the killer, the Dollmaker. Do you know that to be true based on indisputable facts?”

“Well, I know it to be true because it is what the police told me.”

“If you take it backwards, doctor. If you start with what you know about Norman Church now and leave out what the police have told you about the supposed evidence, would you ever believe him capable of what he has been accused of?”

Belk was about to stand up to object but Bosch strongly put his hand on his arm and held him down. Belk turned and looked angrily at him but by then Locke was answering.

“I wouldn’t be able to count him in or out as a suspect. We don’t know enough about him. We don’t know enough about the human mind in general. All I know is, anybody is capable of anything. I could be a sexual killer. Even you, Ms. Chandler. We all have an erotic mold and for most of us, it is quite normal. For some it may be a bit unusual but still only playful. For the others, on the extreme, who find they can only reach erotic excitement and fulfillment through administering pain, even killing their partners, it is buried deep and dark.”

Chandler was looking down at her pad and writing when he finished. When she didn’t ask another question immediately, he continued unbidden.

“Unfortunately, the black heart is not worn on the sleeve. The victims who see it usually don’t live to talk about it.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Chandler said. “I have nothing further.”

Belk plowed in without any preliminary softball questions, a look of concentration on his wide florid face that Bosch had not seen previously.

“Doctor, these men with these so-called paraphilia, what do they look like?”

“Like anybody. There is no look that gives them away.”

“Yes, and are they always on the prowl? You know, looking to indulge their aberrant fantasies by acting them out?”