‘Remarkable,’ Tony breathed. ‘Can you do that with visuals as well, or is it only auditory?’
Exasperated, Carol cast her eyes upwards. ‘Auditory only, I’m afraid. Anyway, when I read the bit in the profile where you suggest he might work with computers, something clicked. The question you didn’t actually put but is obviously bothering you is, why isn’t he getting desensitized to the videos faster as time goes by?’
Tony nodded. The point she’d raised was powerful, and it was precisely what was troubling him. He searched to find an answer that would satisfy them both. Groping for the solution as he went along, he said, ‘Suppose, for the sake of argument, that the first video had the potential to keep him stable for twelve weeks. But he’d already set in train the process of capturing his second victim, and the opportune moment came along before he was actually compelled to kill again. He just couldn’t resist the chance when it presented itself so perfectly. Afterwards, he realizes he’s left eight weeks between the killings and he decides that eight weeks is going to be his pattern. So far, the videos have allowed him to maintain that. Maybe that is going to change now.’
Carol shook her head. ‘It’s plausible, but I’m not convinced.’
Tony grinned. ‘Thank God for that. Neither am I. There’s got to be a better explanation, but I don’t know what it is.’
‘How much do you know about computers?’ she asked.
‘I know where the on/off switch is and I know how to use the software I need to work with. Other than that, I’m a moron.’
‘Well, that makes two of us. My brother, however, is a computer whizz kid. He’s a partner in a games software house. The stuff he works on is leading-edge technology. Right now, he and his partner are developing a low-cost system that will allow games players to put images of themselves in the games that they’re playing. In other words, instead of it being Arnie kicking the shit out of the bad guys on the screen in Terminator 2, it would be Tony Hill. Or Carol Jordan. The point is that there’s already the hardware and software around that allows you to scan video tape and import the images into a computer. I think they call it digitized images. Anyway, once you’ve got that into the computer, you can manipulate it exactly how you want to. You can incorporate still photographs, or bits from other videos. You can superimpose things. When they first got the original hardware about six months ago, Michael showed me this sequence he’d made up himself. He’d taped some of the Tory Party conference and he’d also imported a video sex guide. He’d selected all these government ministers’ faces while they were giving their speeches and superimposed them on the sex video.’ Carol snorted with laughter at the memory. ‘It was a bit choppy, but believe me, you’ve never seen John Major and Margaret Thatcher getting on so well! It gave a whole new meaning to the word “gobbledegook”!’
Tony stared at Carol in stunned silence. ‘You’re kidding me,’ he said.
‘It’s the perfect explanation of why the videos manage to keep him under control.’
‘Wouldn’t that mean he’d have to be a real boffin, like your brother?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Carol said. ‘From what I gathered, the actual techniques involved are fairly simple. But the software and the peripherals that you need to do it are incredibly expensive. You could be talking two or three grand just for one piece of software. So he’s either working for a company where he has that sort of equipment on tap and the privacy to work on his own stuff, or else he’s a computer hobbyist with a lot of disposable income.’
‘Or a thief,’ Tony added, only half joking.
‘Or a thief,’ Carol agreed.
‘I don’t know,’ Tony said dubiously. ‘It does answer the problem, but it’s totally off the wall.’
‘And Handy Andy isn’t?’ Carol said belligerently.
‘Oh, he’s off the wall, all right, but I’m not sure he’s that together.’
‘He builds torture machines. That would be a lot easier with a computer design program. Tony, something’s keeping him stable on his eight-week cycle. Why not this?’
‘It’s a possibility, Carol, no more than that at this stage. Look, why don’t you make some preliminary enquiries, see how feasible what you’re suggesting would be in practice?’
‘You don’t want to include it in the profile?’ Carol asked, bitterly disappointed.
‘I don’t want to undermine the things I feel are strongly probable by including something that’s really only a bit of kite-flying at this stage. You said yourself, it was triggered off by one of the few bits in the profile that is little more than speculation. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not knocking the idea. I think it’s brilliant. But we’re going to have to work bloody hard as it is to overcome the resistance in some quarters to the profile as a whole. Even people who are broadly in support of the idea aren’t necessarily going to agree with some parts of it. So let’s not give them any easy targets. Let’s bottom it, present it to them gift-wrapped so the snipers can’t just knock it straight off the perch. OK?’
‘Fine,’ she said, knowing in her heart he was right. She picked up a sheet of paper and a pen. ‘Check out software manufacturers and consultancies in Bradfield area,’ she muttered to herself as she wrote. ‘Check with Michael about manufacturers of necessary hardware/software then check sales records. Check recent thefts.’
‘Computer clubs,’ Tony added.
‘Thanks, yes,’ Carol said, adding that to her list. ‘And bulletin boards. Oh boy, I’m going to be really popular with the HOLMES team.’ She got to her feet. ‘It’s going to be a long job. I’d better get cracking. I’ll take this down to Scargill Street now and give it to Mr Brandon. We’ll need you to come in and go through it.’
‘No problem,’ Tony said.
‘I’m glad something isn’t.’
Tony stared out of the window of the tram, watching the city lights pass in a blur of rain. There was something cocoon-like about the gleaming white interior of the tram. Graffiti-free, warm, clean; it felt like a safe place to be. As the driver approached traffic lights, he gave a blast on the breathy horn. It sounded like a noise from childhood, the sort of hooting that a cartoon train would produce, he decided.
He turned away from the window and covertly studied the half-dozen other passengers on the tram. Anything to take his mind off the curious emptiness he felt now he had delivered his profile. It wasn’t as if this would be the end of his involvement with the case. Brandon had told Carol that she was to have a daily briefing with him.
He wished he could have been more encouraging about her computer theory, but years of training and practice had rendered the habit of caution ingrained. The idea itself was brilliant. Once she had done some research into the practicability of what she was suggesting, he’d be only too happy to endorse it with her fellow officers. But for the sake of his profile’s credibility, he had to keep his distance from ideas that the average copper would dismiss as science fiction.
He wondered how the police were faring that evening. Carol had called him to say that teams were going out in Temple Fields, trawling the area’s regulars, trying to see if the profile suggestions produced any recognition. With luck, they might get some names that would cross-reference to data already in HOLMES, either from previous criminal records or from the car index numbers whose registered keepers had been fed into the system.
‘The next stop will be Bank Vale station. Bank Vale station next stop,’ the electronic voice from the speakers announced. With a start, Tony realized they had left the city centre far behind and were emerging on the far side of Carlton Park, less than a mile from his home. Bank Vale came and went, and Tony swung round in his seat, ready to make for the exit doors when the next stop was announced.
He walked briskly through the neat suburban streets, past the school playing fields, skirting the small copse