Free Never Look Back by Clare Donoghue

practised. I would imagine that he started small, scaring young women, that kind of thing. Nothing major, jumping out of bushes or following them home, so they knew he was there,’ Phil said.
    ‘How long would you say he’s been building up to this?’ Lockyer asked.
    ‘Years – five, maybe more. As I say, he would have started small.’
    Lockyer thought of all the unreported assaults or unsolved sexual attacks he had seen in his years of service. Any one of them could have been a starting point, a building block. ‘What are we talking about here, Phil, sociopath . . . psychopath, what?’
    ‘Certainly not a sociopath. The suspect will be above-average intelligence, organized, ritualistic and functioning on all cylinders. Top of his game, you might say?’ Phil smiled, exposing two rows of straight, bleached teeth.
    ‘Jesus, Phil. Try and rein in your weird-shit phrases, will you?’ Lockyer said, shaking his head. ‘Top of his game . . . unbelievable.’ Phil nodded, but said nothing. That was the trouble. The guy was so good at his job it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. At least the creep didn’t know about Debbie’s resemblance to Megan. If he did there would be questions, endless questions. ‘What did you feel when you saw what you thought was your daughter’s face?’ ‘Of course, you would have begun to grieve on a subconscious level. Are you aware that your ability to perform your duties may be impaired?’
    ‘What I want to emphasize here, Lockyer, is the suspect’s desire for power. The attacks, the locations, even the murders themselves . . . they’re all secondary.’
    ‘Secondary?’ he asked, again stunned by Phil’s glib attitude.
    ‘Yes. The locations, though significant, are hardly discreet. The Stevens girl was even moved, mid-attack, no doubt because of the alley’s proximity to the general public. That’s what I mean by power, Lockyer. Rape, though violent, is rarely about sex. Carrying out these attacks in built-up areas is the suspect’s way of demonstrating his superiority and dominance over not only his victims, but everyone else. You included.’
    He felt the muscles in the back of his neck tighten. ‘Just what I needed to hear . . . so what about the wrist wounds? What’s that about?’
    ‘I couldn’t say, although I would suggest that they are inextricably linked with his “performance” during the rape. In my opinion, he is able to perform sexually but only in a perfunctory way. Meaning, the excitement of the blood and rape would be enough to maintain his erection but he will be unable to climax. This could explain the throat wound. He would go as far as he could and then the frustration of not being able to ejaculate would be so intense that he would have to do something to bring the attack to an end. He certainly wouldn’t want the victim to witness his shortcomings, shall we say?’
    ‘And the bite on the victim’s neck?’ he asked, aware that the image of Debbie’s killer struggling to climax on top of her was going to stay with him for some time.
    Phil looked down at the pages on the table. ‘Yes, no such marks were found on either of the first two victims. I think it is safe to assume that it represents a further stimulant for him and a further assault on the victim’s body. However, it does worry me. There is something very basic about biting. To be honest, I’m surprised he indulged himself . . . potentially leaving dental impressions, DNA . . . It doesn’t seem to be this killer’s style,’ Phil said with a careless shrug of his shoulders, as though disappointed that Debbie’s murderer had so little self-control.
    It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was coming next but Lockyer knew he had to ask. ‘There will be others?’
    ‘Yes, without doubt. Altering his technique, as he has done with the Stevens girl, demonstrates that, and . . .’ Before Phil could continue, Jane knocked on the glass door.
    Lockyer waved her in, relieved