Death's Door

Five

‘When does a multiple murderer become a serial killer?’ Margaret Rose Steele put the question to her husband as he dried his hair with a towel in their big kitchen watching her remove the stone from an avocado. It was his unshakeable practice to take a shower as soon as he returned home after witnessing an autopsy before doing anything else.

‘You’re a copper,’ he retorted. ‘You should know that.’

‘Maybe, but I don’t. “Serial killer” is one of those phrases the media loves to throw about, but I’ve never seen it defined.’

‘What are we having for supper?’

‘Just a couple of prawn thingies. It’s nearly ten: we shouldn’t eat too much. But don’t change the subject. Come on, tell me. Or don’t you know either?’

‘As it happens, I do. We had a guest lecturer on a course I was on at the police college who specialised in the subject. He said that the FBI came up with the term thirty years ago.’

‘So it’s an American phenomenon?’

‘Hell, no, it’s as old as time. The definition we were given is that serial killers are people who commit three or more murders over a period with gaps between. Often they will appear quite normal, and their hobby goes unsuspected by their friends and neighbours. Usually, there’s a sexual aspect to their crimes, but there doesn’t have to be; there wasn’t with Shipman, for example.’

Maggie shrugged. ‘So they’re just mass murderers.’

‘No,’ her husband contradicted her. ‘That’s different: mass murderers are defined as those who kill three or more people in a single event and at a single location. Suicide bombers are the classic modern example. And there’s an accepted third category, spree killers, people who go on a rampage, popping victims off all over the place. They don’t revert to normal behaviour between kills, though: they’re driven by an overwhelming homicidal urge, and they carry on until they’re caught or killed. It doesn’t mean a lot to the public, though; whatever you call them, they’re all seriously disturbed.’

‘Crackers,’ said Maggie, tersely.

‘But not legally so; not in the case of serial killers, anyway. Most of them, when they’re brought to trial, will try to plead not guilty on the ground of insanity, but very few of them succeed. The legal definition of who’s nuts and who isn’t is still based on the McNaughten rules. They date back to a case of that name in the nineteenth century, in England; it set the principle that a person is sane if he knew the difference between right and wrong at the time of each crime. The premeditation in serial cases, plus the murderer’s clear success in avoiding detection for what can be long periods, makes an insanity defence very difficult to sustain.’

‘So if you’re right about these two killings being connected. .’

‘I am right. It’s not just me, either: Mario’s just as certain. Neither of us saw Stacey Gavin’s body at the scene, but we did see the only two photos that were taken. The mere description of the second body made him drop everything, head out to East Lothian and call for me. But we’ll know for sure when we get the result of the ballistics comparison between the two bullets.’

‘So: what will you have?’

‘We’ll have a bad bastard.’

Maggie frowned, as she spooned cooked prawns from a sieve and arranged them over the halves of the avocado. ‘That covers all of your definitions. Be specific, Inspector.’

‘That may depend on who the second victim is. Does her circle of acquaintances overlap with Stacey’s? I’ve already checked. . or, rather, I had a detective constable, Tarvil Singh, check. . all of the interviewees in the Gavin investigation. He got hold of them all, so she isn’t one of them, but tomorrow we’ll go round them all and show them a touched-up photo, see if we get any reactions.’

‘I’ll bet you do; just give their breakfast time to go down, that’s all. But so what if the two are connected? Where does that take you?’

Stevie stared at her, as she finished preparing their light supper and carried two plates across to the refectory table in the corner of the kitchen. ‘What’s with you?’ he asked. ‘It’s not so long since you were an ace detective yourself.’

‘Maybe being back in uniform’s made my brain go soft.’

‘Well, let’s toughen it up,’ he retorted, as he uncapped a bottle of sparkling water, and began to fill two glasses. ‘You tell me what I’ll have.’

She sat on a long bench on one side of the table. ‘Hopefully, you’ll have a prime suspect. A connection between them would rule out, almost certainly, unless it was a slight or accidental connection, the notion that they were random victims. If you find a link you’ll see where it takes you, or rather, to whom it takes you. But if they are random. .’ She whistled. ‘Nasty.’

‘Very. . and my arse will be on the line as senior investigating officer.’

‘Now you’re being over-dramatic,’ she said. ‘From what you’ve told me about the Gavin case, there’s no evidence pointing you towards anyone. Maybe you’ll get lucky: maybe the second victim will give you some. But if it doesn’t, that won’t mean that you’ve fallen down on the job. It’ll simply mean that you’re up against a very careful, methodical villain. You won’t be condemned for that.’

‘I’ll be in the spotlight, though. Investigating a potential serial killer get you lots of attention, even if he is just starting out. I’ll be under more pressure than I’ve ever known.’

‘What if he isn’t?’

A forkful of prawn in thousand-island dressing paused halfway to his mouth. ‘Isn’t what?’

‘Starting out. What if Stacey wasn’t his first victim?’

‘Come on, love, give me some credit. We checked the markings on the first bullet through the national database. The weapon hasn’t been used in any other crimes, solved or unsolved.’

‘What if he has more than one gun?’

Stevie frowned.

‘What if the two bullets don’t match?’ she continued. ‘Will that put paid to the idea that it’s the same killer?’

He shook his head slowly. ‘Not as far as I’m concerned. I feel it in my gut that these crimes are related.’ He glanced at her. ‘Hey, Mags, promise me something, right now: promise me you’ll still challenge me, won’t you, even if you do leave the job?’

‘You don’t need me to do that. You always get there.’

‘Maybe, but sometimes you help me get there faster. Like now: one of my priorities tomorrow will be to run both crime scenes, photos and descriptions, through the national computer to see whether we get any matches.’

‘How far back will you go?’

‘As far as I can. Now, please, let’s talk about something else.’

‘Such as?’ She grinned.

‘Anything,’ Stevie pleaded. ‘Your day, for a start.’

‘Mine was pretty ordinary. Tomorrow I start the handover to my stand-in.’

‘Ah, you’ve got one at last. Who is it?’

‘Your old boss, Mary Chambers; for the moment at least. They’ll review that when I tell them how long I’ll be staying away, and I will not do that until the baby’s safely delivered. I had a visit from the ACC today. I don’t think he’s too pleased with me over that, but he didn’t say as much.’

‘Brian Mackie knows you too well to do that. Anyway, I reckon you’re wrong: I reckon the assistant chief constable would be just a wee bit relieved to see you go, if you did. You’re a better copper than he is, all round, and you’re a better leader. The whole bloody force knows that, and so does he.’

‘You’re biased.’

‘Sure,’ he agreed, ‘but that doesn’t stop me from being right.’

‘You’re underestimating Brian. He’s had “Command Corridor” written in his stars for years.’

‘And so have you,’ Stevie insisted. ‘He beat you there on seniority, that’s all, but he knows that if you’re both in the game he won’t beat you to the next level. It’ll suit his long-term ambitions if you’re not around.’ He grinned. ‘It’s too bad that he’ll be disappointed.’

‘What do you mean?’ She frowned across at him, and her tone was defensive, for all that she tried to disguise it.

‘I mean, love of my life, that I don’t buy into the notion of you putting motherhood before the career that’s been the focal point of your adult life. Yes, you’ll take your maternity leave, and you’ll devote all that time to the baby. Then when it’s up, we’ll find a carer and you’ll get back on the ladder. A year or two after that, you’ll start looking for promotion opportunities. . that’s if they don’t come looking for you first. The chief retires in less than a year, remember.’

‘And I’ll still be on leave.’

‘That doesn’t stop you being considered for the vacancy that’ll arise when Bob Skinner steps up.’

‘You’re getting miles ahead of yourself there. Who says the DCC will take over as chief constable?’

‘Who doesn’t?’

‘Maybe he doesn’t,’ she retorted. ‘I was his executive officer for a while, remember. I know him, and I’m not sure he wants it. The job would frustrate him: he’s a hands-on guy, always has been. Stevie, he could have been a chief five years ago; he would have been in with a shout for every vacancy that’s arisen since that time, anywhere in the UK. There was even a rumour not so long ago that he’d been sounded out about the Met.’

‘Maybe, but this is his patch. He loves Edinburgh; he’s been happy as long as our present chief’s been in post, but can you see him welcoming an outsider into Sir James Proud’s office with open arms?’

‘That might depend on who the outsider is. What if Andy Martin goes for it?’

Stevie’s grin became a laugh. ‘Andy Martin was his protégé until he moved to Dundee. The two of them are blood brothers. Do you really see Andy going for Proud Jimmy’s job over the head of his best friend?’

‘I do, if Mr Skinner tells him to.’

‘Which he won’t. Look, Mags, what’s the big man doing now?’

‘He’s enjoying a well-earned sabbatical, after a most horrendous year.’

‘Which he’s using to prepare himself, so the story goes. Tarvil Singh’s wife works at Heriot-Watt, in the Borders campus: according to her, he did a specially arranged six-week course during February and March, researching the management of stress in the workplace. Then, last month, he spent three weeks in Toronto, on secondment to the RCMP.’

‘How do you know that?’ She paused. ‘Of course: your cousin Joey.’

‘That’s right, he’s a Mountie sergeant in the Ontario division. I had an e-mail from him last month: he told me that our DCC had been on a tour of all their offices, spending time with each of the departments. It was all set up through their CO.’

‘You never told me!’ Maggie exclaimed.

‘Okay, but there are things you don’t tell me, operational stuff. I wouldn’t expect you to. By the same token, I reckoned that if this wasn’t on the bulletin board, maybe I wasn’t meant to know about it.’

‘Secretive bugger.’ She sniffed. ‘They should have given you the Special Branch job, rather than plucking Dottie Shannon out of her inspector’s uniform.’

‘Sorry.’

‘You’re forgiven. I still don’t go with your theory, though. He’s got to fill in his time somehow, and the whole point of sabbatical leave is that you use it for professional development.’

‘So what are you going to do on your maternity leave? Just feed the baby and nothing else?’

‘Maybe.’

‘Indeed? In that case, what was that stuff about an Open University business management course that I found in the printer the other day?’

She glowered at him. ‘Bloody detectives: you’re never off duty.’ She paused. ‘Stevie, the truth is I don’t bloody know what I want to do. But if I did an OU course, would it bother you?’

‘My darling, nothing you do could bother me. If that’s what you want, go for it. Just hold off till the baby’s born and you’ve recovered, that’s all.’ He slapped himself on the side of the head. ‘Ah, that reminds me: I checked the answer-phone when I was in the bedroom. There’s a message for you from the maternity unit at the Royal: they want you to call them.’

‘Did they say about what?’

‘No. All the guy said was that it was purely routine.’

Maggie laughed. ‘Purely routine: even medics are using police-speak now. Next thing you know I’ll be helping them with their enquiries.’