A Killing Mind. Luke Delaney

stray dog. We need our own job.’

      ‘Well, we’ve got one,’ Sean announced, ‘and it’s a bad one.’

      ‘Go on,’ Sally encouraged him.

      ‘I haven’t got time to repeat myself,’ Sean answered curtly. ‘Get the team together and I’ll brief everyone at the same time.’

      Donnelly looked out into the main office and shook his head. ‘Only about half the team here, boss. Rest are busy running errands for the world and his wife.’

      ‘It’ll have to do for now,’ Sean told him. ‘The rest will have to catch up as and when they can.’ He spun away and marched to the whiteboards that dominated one side of the room, quickly followed by Sally and Donnelly. As Donnelly called everyone to attention, Sean swept the boards clear of any information relating to other investigations and began to pin up photos of the two victims before writing their names above them. Once he was happy with his display, he turned to the gathering audience of detectives and took a deep breath.

      ‘All right, everyone,’ Donnelly made one last call for attention. ‘Listen up.’

      ‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ Sean addressed them, ‘we have a new case.’ A few nodded their heads in quiet satisfaction; although nobody spoke, Sean could sense their relief. ‘Two victims. One male. One female. Killed ten days apart. The first – Tanya Richards – was a known prostitute and drug user. The second – William Dalton – was a homeless beggar; he too was a drug user. Both were young. Both were vulnerable. Neither deserved what happened to them. We all know how unusual it is for a killer to vary the gender of their victims, but these two are definitely linked. The killer has a very distinct modus operandi and has been kind enough to leave us his calling card.’

      ‘Which is?’ Sally asked.

      ‘He takes some of their teeth and most of their fingernails,’ Sean explained, causing his audience to wince.

      ‘Jesus,’ Donnelly said for all of them. ‘Before or after they’re dead?’

      ‘Probably after,’ Sean told him. ‘They weren’t restrained in any way, so they would most likely have been incapacitated in order for him to do what he did. The relatively small amount of blood from the wounds to the mouth suggests their hearts had stopped or were close to it.’

      ‘Trophies?’ Sally asked.

      ‘That would be my guess,’ Sean agreed. ‘Something to help him relive his crimes.’

      ‘Where were they killed?’ DC Alan Jesson asked.

      ‘Both outdoors,’ Sean continued. ‘The first in Holloway, North London, and the second in Southwark, Southeast London.’

      ‘Then the killer’s a Londoner,’ Sally added.

      ‘Probably,’ Sean agreed, ‘or at least they know London well. Killers like to know their surroundings,’ he reminded them. ‘It makes them feel … comfortable.’

      ‘Any signs of sexual assault?’ the tall and well-spoken DC Fiona Cahill asked.

      ‘The first victim was almost certainly raped,’ Sean confirmed. ‘Too early to say with the second. His post-mortem is tomorrow and his clothes are already being processed by the lab, so we should know more then.’

      ‘Maybe they both crossed the same drug dealer,’ Donnelly argued, his bushy moustache twitching as he spoke. He could always be relied on to look for the simplest solution.

      ‘That’s what the MIT who initially investigated Tanya Richards’ murder thought. Drug dealer or pimp,’ Sean answered. ‘But they couldn’t find anything.’

      ‘Now we have another murder, though,’ Donnelly reminded him. ‘If we can find a dealer they both used, then we’d have a link.’

      ‘Maybe,’ Sean admitted without enthusiasm. ‘We’ll look into it, but I don’t think so. Doesn’t … feel like that sort of case to me.’

      ‘So what was his motivation?’ DC Paulo Zukov asked in his thick London accent, his sharp blue eyes peering from a gaunt, unattractive face.

      ‘Well,’ Sean thought out loud, ‘very few stranger attacks result in murder. Most are fights between males that go too far and someone ends up getting killed, but that’s certainly not what we’re dealing with here.’

      ‘And?’ Zukov prompted, trying to hurry him along.

      ‘And,’ Sean continued, ‘sexually motivated attacks where the killer only kills in order to cover his tracks, to get rid of the main witness, i.e. the victim. Or – and this is much rarer – where the motivation is the killing itself. Usually committed by someone with extreme mental health issues, although occasionally, very occasionally, by someone of sound mind who just can’t stop themselves. Someone for whom killing is in their nature.’

      ‘Like Sebastian Gibran,’ Donnelly mentioned the toxic name.

      ‘Yes,’ Sean agreed. ‘Like Sebastian Gibran.’

      Sally looked at the floor, her hand automatically going to the place on her chest where her blouse hid the two scars where Gibran’s attack had marked her for life.

      ‘You all right, Sally?’ Sean asked, his eyes narrowing with concern.

      ‘Yes,’ she lied. ‘I’m fine. Haven’t heard that name for a while, that’s all.’

      ‘To go back to the teeth and nails,’ Donnelly intervened, saving Sally from any more unwanted attention. ‘Why take them as trophies? Bloody hard to get out. If he wanted a body part, why not cut off the fingers or ears? A good knife or pruning scissors and he could have had the job done in seconds. Pulling teeth must take time and effort.’

      Sean had been giving it some thought. ‘It’s possible he has experience of extracting teeth and wanted to stick to something he was familiar with.’

      ‘A dentist?’ Donnelly questioned.

      ‘Unlikely,’ Sean told him. ‘Someone who tried dentistry and failed is more likely. We’ll have to check it out anyway, but I think the reason he took the teeth and the nails is because he wanted something durable – something from their bodies, but also something that would last. Something that could last forever.’

      ‘Jesus,’ Donnelly said quietly.

      ‘Other body parts would eventually degrade,’ Sean explained. ‘Even if he kept them in a fridge – especially if he’s constantly getting them out to spend time with them. They wouldn’t last long.’

      ‘He could freeze them,’ Zukov suggested. ‘Could last for years if he did that.’

      ‘No,’ Sean dismissed the suggestion. ‘Not personal enough. A lump of frozen meat wrapped in something like clingfilm – that would never be enough for him. When he holds his trophies in his hands he needs to feel them, to have them right there with him. Nails and teeth are perfect for that. He can handle them as much as he wants and whenever he wants and they’ll never degrade to nothing. Or—’ Sean stopped, momentarily lost in his own thoughts.

      ‘Or?’ Sally tried to bring him back.

      ‘Or,’ he continued, ‘he did it simply because he liked it. He liked pulling their teeth and fingernails. It made him feel … good.’

      ‘How the hell could doing that make anyone feel good?’ Zukov asked.

      ‘He’s not like you,’ Sean warned him. ‘He doesn’t think like you, any more than you think like him. He’s different.’

      ‘You mean us,’ Sally said. ‘He doesn’t think like us.’

      ‘What?’ Sean asked, confused by her words before another question saved him.

      ‘Why not take some of their hair?’ Cahill asked. ‘Hair’s personal and non-biodegradable and a lot easier