INSIDE THE MIND OF A KILLER
The man the Home Office have chosen to spearhead the hunt for serial killers spoke today about the latest slaying that has terrified the city’s gay community.
Forensic psychologist Tony Hill is one year into a major study funded by the government which will lead to the setting up of a criminal profiling task force similar to the FBI unit featured in The Silence of the Lambs.
Dr Hill, 34, was formerly the chief clinical psychologist at Blamires Hospital, the maximum-security mental unit which houses Britain’s most dangerous criminally insane offenders, including mass murderer David Harney and serial killer Keith Pond, the Motorway Madman.
Giving his verdict, Dr Hill said, ‘I have not been called in by the police to consult on any of these cases, so I know no more than your readers do about them.’
Either Dr Hill had been lying to her colleague, or his formal involvement with the case came after the interview. If that was the case, Penny could see how to exploit it in a way that would appeal to her editor. She could picture the headline now. ‘POLICE FOLLOW BEST’S LEAD IN MURDER HUNT.’ She quickly flicked through the rest of the piece. It didn’t tell her anything she didn’t already know, although she was interested that Dr Hill had speculated that the discrepancies in the third killing might mean there were two killers out on the streets. That was an idea that seemed to have sunk without trace. It was something to ask Kevin about next time she managed to get him on the end of a phone.
The next cutting was from the Guardian, and announced the setting up of the Home Office programme for developing a national task force to deal with serial offenders. The project was to be based at Bradfield University. The article gave her more background on Dr Hill, and she jotted down his career details in her notebook. No dummy, this guy. She’d have to handle him carefully. She tapped her teeth with her pen and wondered why the Sentinel Times hadn’t run a feature on the study, with a profile of Dr Hill. Maybe they tried and had been knocked back. She’d have to check with her colleagues on Features.
The next two cuttings were from a national tabloid, a two-part series on serial killers that had been timed to coincide with the general release of The Silence of the Lambs. Dr Hill was quoted in both articles, talking in general terms about the work of psychological profilers.
The last two cuttings dealt with one of his most prominent patients, Keith Pond, the so-called Motorway Madman. Pond had abducted five women from motorway service areas, then savagely raped and murdered them. At the time of his trial, only two of the bodies had been found. But after extensive therapy with Dr Hill, Pond had revealed the whereabouts of the other three bodies. Dr Hill had been hailed as a worker of miracles by the bereaved family of one of the victims. One of the two pieces had attempted a profile of Dr Hill, but they had scant information to go on. As usual, the journalist hadn’t let that stand in the way of a good story.
Tony Hill, who has never married, is devoted to his work. A former colleague said, ‘Tony’s a workaholic. He’s married to the job.
‘He’s totally driven by the desire to understand what makes his patients tick. There’s probably not another psychologist in the country who has his knack of getting inside their twisted minds and working out what makes them do what they do.
‘I sometimes thought he related better to mass murderers than he did to normal punters.’
The reclusive Dr Hill lives alone and is notorious for not mixing socially with colleagues. Apart from studying the minds of serial killers, the only hobby he apparently indulges in is hill-walking. On weekends off, he regularly drives to the Lakes or the Yorkshire Dales and tramps the fells.
‘Sounds like a real barrel of laughs,’ Penny said aloud, scribbling more notes on her pad. She returned to the main menu, where she selected the fifth option. Again, she entered Tony’s name for a picture search. The data banks revealed there was one stock picture on file. Penny called it up and stared at the face that appeared on her screen. ‘Gotcha!’ she exclaimed. She had only seen him once before, but now she knew who Carol Jordan’s new sidekick was.
Penny leaned back in her seat, savouring her third cigarette, and registered that the newsroom was starting to fill up. One quick phone call, then she could afford the time to treat herself to a fry-up in the canteen. Reaching for the phone, she dialled Kevin Matthews’s home number. He picked up on the second ring. ‘DI Matthews,’ came the sleepy mumble.
‘Hi, Kev, it’s Penny,’ she said, savouring the stunned silence that greeted her announcement. ‘Sorry to bother you at home, but I thought you’d rather answer my questions there than in the office.’
‘Wh-what?’ he stuttered. Then, muffled, ‘Yeah, it’s work. Go back to sleep, love.’
‘How long has Dr Tony Hill been on the team?’
‘How did you hear about that? Shit, that’s supposed to be top secret!’ he exploded, his nervousness transforming itself into anger.
‘Tut, tut. Kev, she’ll never get back to sleep if you yell like that. Never mind how I know, just be grateful you can put your hand on your heart and deny it came from you. How long, Kev?’
He cleared his throat. ‘Just a couple of days.’
‘Was it Brandon’s idea?’
‘That’s right. Look, I really can’t talk about this. It’s supposed to be kept under wraps.’
‘He’s doing a profile, right?’
‘What do you think?’
‘Working with Carol Jordan? Brandon’s blue-eyed girl on this one, is she?’
‘She’s the liaison officer. Look, I’ve got to go. I’ll talk to you about this later on, OK?’ Kevin tried to sound menacing, but failed.
Penny smiled and slowly exhaled a mouthful of smoke. ‘Thanks, Kev. I owe you a very special one.’ She replaced the handset, cleared her screen and opened a story file.
‘Exclusive. By Penny Jordan,’ she typed. Never mind breakfast. She had far more interesting stuff to do.
Tony was back in front of his screen by half past eight. Instead of the guilt he’d expected to feel about his erotic encounter, he felt refreshed. Giving himself permission to indulge himself with Angelica had somehow released and relaxed him. Surprising though he found it under the circumstances, he’d actually become aroused as she’d talked him through an outrageous, imaginative sexual encounter. He hadn’t actually managed to sustain his erection as far as orgasm, but because there was no one there to share his failure, it hadn’t seemed to matter. Maybe a few more calls from Angelica would be all he needed to contemplate the reality with something less than abject panic.
But not at work. What he needed now was complete peace. He’d already instructed his secretary to hold all his calls, and he turned off the ringer on his direct line. Nothing and nobody was going to interrupt the flow of his thoughts. His feeling of satisfaction continued as he read through the work he’d done the day before. He was ready now to put himself on the line and commit his conclusions about Handy Andy to paper. Tony poured himself a cup of coffee from his Thermos and took a deep breath.
We are dealing with a serial killer who will certainly kill again unless he is caught. The next killing will take place on the eighth Monday following the death of Damien Connolly unless some trigger accelerates this. What might push him over the edge into extreme escalation could be some catastrophic event that causes him to lose whatever it is he is using to keep the fantasy alive. Since, for example, he is using videos, loss of or damage to his tapes could lead to loss of control. Another possible scenario is that an innocent person is charged with the killings. That would be such an affront to his sense of himself that he might commit his next murder ahead of schedule.
I