DEAD GONE (26 page)

They’d reached the conference room and sat in the same seats as last time, Rossi taking the opportunity to produce the folder containing copies of the letters they’d received up to that point. ‘This is the correspondence we’ve received so far,’ she said, placing the letters in order in front of the professor. ‘If you could shed some light on them, we’d be grateful.’

Murphy watched as Garner took out a pair of small reading glasses, perching them on the end of his nose. He began reading, occasionally making small noises in the back of his throat. Murphy looked around the room, his eyes settling on a particular piece of artwork which was on the wall behind Garner. A blurred colourful piece, if Murphy squinted his eyes, he thought he could see a face in the pattern. He looked away when the face began to take form.

‘Interesting,’ Garner said, as he finished reading. ‘I have a couple of questions if that’s okay?’

‘Of course,’ Murphy replied, cutting in on Rossi. He was determined to play more of a role this time. ‘We’ll do our best to answer.’

‘Okay. What was the cause of death for each victim?’

‘First victim – asphyxiation. Second – numerous stab wounds, one to her throat being the fatal one, we think. Third – stab wound to the heart.’

As Murphy spoke, he watched as Garner touched each letter in turn as he listed the causes of death.

‘Okay, and each letter was found on the body, yes?’

Murphy nodded in confirmation.

‘And was this directly on the body, or in their pockets or something similar?’ Garner said, removing his glasses and looking up at Murphy.

‘Two in the clothing the victim was wearing,’ Murphy replied, attempting to keep his face from betraying any emotion. ‘The first one was attached directly to the skin.’

Garner nodded, placing his glasses back on. ‘Okay, I will go through each letter and share my initial thoughts. I’m sure you’ll have made the same conclusions from them as I have.’

Murphy pulled his chair closer, as he watched Rossi hold her pen steady at her notebook.

‘Firstly, the numbering is troublesome. He begins with Experiment Three. Two possibilities arise from this. One, he simply does not want you to discover the first two experiments. They didn’t result in death, so are inconsequential. Or, two, they are still ongoing. As they haven’t ended, he’s not ready to share. Onto the letters. The first letter is his attempt at gaining instant attention. He also wants you to realise his intentions. What’s interesting is that he goes straight into talking about the experiment
before
talking about death. It’s as if he wants to explain himself to you first, why he’s done what he has done. It’s his first contact, which makes this important. He’s not sure of himself, tentative maybe. So he wants to convey what he is doing straight away. He also talks about how she “wanted to die” and doesn’t actually state how he killed her. He’s absolving himself of responsibility for her murder within a few paragraphs. I’d suggest this means this is quite probably his first murder, and he wrote that letter once the adrenaline of committing the act had worn off.’

Garner paused for a moment, allowing Rossi to catch up with her note taking. ‘Moving on,’ Garner said, his voice unchanged. ‘He then goes on to discuss why he’s doing what he is doing. He makes grand announcements about death, grief, and how we in society deal with it. He’s more confident here. He’s been thinking about this for a long time. I’d suggest it is someone who has had to deal with death at a young age, possibly up to late teens. That event may have affected him immeasurably, meaning his view on death is warped.’

‘Warped?’ Murphy said.

‘Yes,’ Garner replied. ‘I’d say he views death as he says, as something natural. What he wants is for people to see what he’s doing the same way. A natural act, for which he shouldn’t be punished. To me that suggests, at least in this first letter, that he is still looking to shift blame from himself to society;
we’re
forcing him to act in this way. The tone changes with the second letter however. He’s more confident now, and violent. That’s the difference. He feels more powerful perhaps. He still wants you to know what he’s doing; even straight out telling you where to look. It also displays his anger, his quick temper. He killed the girl because she was a nuisance to him. Now it’s been just over a week and three murders have occurred. From what little I know about serial murderers, they usually escalate and become more and more violent. Not so here. The third victim in that case should have been maimed in an even worse manner than the second. He spells out the reason … control. He needs to be in control of every part of this. Including you Detective Murphy.’

Garner stopped, looking down. ‘The third letter seems to be another blame shifting exercise. He discusses other instances of the bystander theory in practice, showing he is not breaking new ground.’ Garner shook his head slowly, Murphy surprised to see him become more emotional as his eyes turned filmy as if he were on the brink of tears. ‘I’m sorry, this is a little overwhelming. You think you’ve seen it all …’

Murphy looked to Rossi and nodded.

‘Do you have tea or coffee around here? I could get us a cup before going on,’ Rossi said, placing her notebook down on the table.

‘Yes, we have a little kitchen area opposite,’ Garner said, indicating the door behind him. ‘That would be nice, thank you.’

Rossi left and Garner removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes with the thumb and forefinger of his left hand. ‘You know he’s focused on you now, detective?’ Garner said.

Murphy sighed. ‘Yes, I guessed as much.’ Just what he didn’t need; becoming even closer to this than he already was.

‘He sees in you as something, someone to control. He’s using your tragic loss in an attempt to unsettle and destabilise you and the investigation as a whole. It is down to your own level of acceptance of that loss, as to whether it will affect what happens.’

‘Unless of course we get lucky and he makes a mistake,’ Murphy said with a forced smile.

‘I suppose that’s usually the case with serial killers,’ Garner replied. ‘He is an intelligent man however, so don’t rely on that too much. He felt himself losing control with the second unfortunate victim, so rectified that with the third victim. He now has someone to fixate on, to test himself against. And I sincerely doubt that you’re up to it. You may need to take a step back.’

Murphy dropped the smile, leaned across the table. ‘With all respect, professor, you have no idea what I need to do. You may be a clever man, but I know how to do my job. So, I appreciate you helping us here, which you are doing, but rest assured I’m up to it.’

Garner sat back in his chair with an exhale of breath. Laced his thin fingers together over his chest. ‘Good. I’m glad that’s how you feel,’ Garner said. ‘Your eyes say different.’ Murphy attempted to interrupt, but Garner waved him off before carrying on. ‘I was a clinical psychologist out in the field before moving into lecturing on the subject. I know something of this kind of thing. More than most, I would say. I counselled many, many people who were dealing with grief. I can see you’re not sleeping. I can see this case, as it probably should, is weighing heavily on your shoulders. But I also see how you move, how you react whenever the subject of death is discussed. I also know what happened to you, as many people within the city do, so I know what it is I see when you deign to look me in the eye. I see great loss, grief. And you haven’t dealt with it all. Believe me when I say this, talking to someone would be good. I’ve dealt with grief so often More often than I ever wished to. Everyone reacts differently, but I’m positive bottling things up is not the right path.’

Murphy held Garner’s stare, attempting to show strength. ‘I dealt with things fine. Let’s drop this, okay?’

‘I’m simply telling you what I sense as a professional. Feel free to ignore me.’ He leaned back, his fingers tapping together. ‘Or perhaps, when you’re in a less confrontational mood, we could talk more about it.’

Rossi came back in with a tray carrying three cups. ‘Made coffee for us all, found milk in the fridge, hope you don’t mind. Couldn’t find sugar though.’

‘That’s fine,’ Garner said. ‘Thank you.’

Rossi placed the cup in front of Garner, walking around to hand Murphy another. They settled back down, an uneasy silence descending on the room.

‘You’ve given us some great information about who the man may be, what he is. Is there anything else you can tell us, professor?’ Rossi said.

‘Well, please don’t misinterpret what I’m saying. I’m not attempting to profile the murderer, that’s fool’s science. Widely discredited. You will have noticed I haven’t given you an age or occupation, because that would be guesswork. What I am merely pointing out is some possibilities behind his compulsions; what is driving him. This links into the psychology part of it, which is perhaps where the interest may lie.’

‘What did you want to see me for?’

Rob and Dan were sitting in the pub again, the weather keeping a few of the older blokes away, so they had the place almost to themselves.

‘I was arrested on Friday.’

Dan reacted exactly as Rob had expected him to. Quietly, a raised eyebrow only. ‘Really.’

‘Yes. They think I had something to do with the murders that have been happening around here.’

‘Yes. Terrible business. I’ve started parking the Audi closer to the building. Gets spooky in the evening. I’m guessing their evidence didn’t hold up?’

‘I’m here aren’t I?’ replied Rob.

Dan smiled, his thin lips spread wide across his face. ‘Yes you are.’

‘Well, you’re the most intelligent bloke I know. And I need that intelligence,’ Rob replied, knowing the best way to get information from Dan was to appeal to his ego. ‘I have a few questions about something in your area of expertise.’

Dan smoothed down his shirt. ‘Okay, I’m intrigued. What do you need to know?’

‘What do you know about Harry Harlow?’

Dan looked at him quizzically, although Rob could see a spark in his eyes. ‘The psychologist?’

‘Yes,’ Rob replied. ‘He did something with monkeys I think?’

‘Well yes, but so much more. He studied isolation in rhesus monkeys. His most widely known study was on baby monkeys removed from their mothers. There were two groups, both placed in a cage. In one group they were provided with a surrogate model made of wire, which gave food, and a separate surrogate made of cloth which gave comfort. In the other group, the roles were reversed. Harlow found the monkeys would cling to the cloth model, whether or not it provided food. Thus showing comfort over sustenance is of importance to newborns.’

Rob was nodding along, not really following what Dan was saying. He had read this last night, yet it still didn’t make sense. What he was really interested in was his other experiments. ‘What else did he do?’ Rob said, taking a swig of his pint.

‘Well, perhaps his most infamous work,’ Dan replied, leaning forward and lowering his voice, ‘was in social isolation and depression. He would isolate monkeys for up to twelve months in what he called the Well of Despair. Deprived them of social interaction completely. The results can be guessed at; shock, blank staring, self harm. After being isolated for a year, the monkeys would barely move. When you look back, it’s staggering to think they could get away with that kind of thing. It’s completely unethical now and it was widely criticised even back then.’

‘What do you think would happen to someone if they were in that position?’

Dan studied him, that spark in his eyes still there. ‘A human?’

‘Yes.’ Rob couldn’t meet his eyes, afraid of what questions he might ask.

‘Well, you’re probably looking at similar results. The only difference really is the monkeys used by Harlow were infants. If you took an adult with a full history of social interaction, there’s a chance they could recover. I’d imagine they’d show signs of a major depressive episode, something which wouldn’t be an easy thing to get over. I can’t be sure though. Why are you asking me about this?’

Rob finished off his pint, looked around at the bar. ‘Food’s taking its time.’

‘You’re stalling. What’s going on?’

Rob sighed heavily. ‘I’m just following a trail is all.’

Dan sat back in his chair. ‘Wait, you think this is what’s happened to Jemma?’

‘No. Well, maybe. I don’t know.’

‘It’s pretty outlandish, mate. How did you get to this?’

Rob didn’t know how to answer without revealing too much. Jemma was in enough danger as it was without him adding to it. ‘At this point I’m willing to consider anything.’

‘Well, forgive me for this, Rob, but don’t you think it’s getting to be too much?’

‘What do you mean?’ he replied, biting the inside of his lip.

‘It’s just that you’ve been running round the country on fool’s errands to no avail, now you’re talking about Jemma being part of some crazy experiment. I implore you to think of other options.’

Rob slammed his glass down on the table, the beer in the glass sloshing upwards. ‘What other options do I have, Dan? I’ve lost the house, the car. Her mum and friends think she’s gone off for a nice fucking holiday, or failing that, that I killed her.’

‘You can let me help.’

Rob turned away. ‘You can’t help me, Dan.’

‘Yes I can. More than you realise.’

‘What do you mean?’

Dan leaned over the table. ‘I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m a very wealthy man. Why not let me hire someone? There are people who can help in these matters.’

Rob snorted, looking at the ceiling. ‘A private detective you mean? I can’t imagine there’s an abundance of them in Liverpool, mate.’

‘I was thinking more of a high-ranking defence lawyer, given recent events, but yes, a private detective may be a better idea. I bet I could find one. A good one as well. I don’t mind paying at all, if it’ll stop you running around like a headless chicken on silly adventures, getting yourself into trouble.’

Rob dropped his head to look at Dan, who was leaning across the table with a look of pity on his face. ‘I don’t need charity Dan.’