Free Blind Fury by Lynda La Plante

self-pity, but more fascinated by what moment—was it madness or desire—that drove me to kill. This self-contemplation has opened up many areas about which I truthfully had been in denial; I now believe that I have two personalities, and only when committing murder are they joined.”
    “Mr. Welsh, we are not here to discuss your case,” Barolli said curtly.
    Cameron didn’t glance at Barolli but continued as if there had been no interruption. “This self-contemplation and self-analysis proved to be unsatisfying, since I have only myself as a template, so I subsequently broadened my research to delve into other killers’ minds. The outcome is the reason why I wished to see you, Detective Travis. My attempt to understand why I committed murder has enabled me to get inside the general mind of a killer, because I have been inside my own.”
    Barolli sighed with impatience, and again Cameron gave no reaction to his presence.
    “Have you brought in documents pertaining to your inquiry?” Welsh went on.
    “No.”
    “Well, that is a waste of time, isn’t it? For me to help you, I will need the postmortem photographs and reports and the forensic details. Without access to these, I doubt if I will be able to assist you in capturing the killer.”
    “That won’t be possible, Mr. Welsh,” Anna said.
    “Then you should make it possible,” he snapped, “because if you give me access to this material, I will be able to guide you toward your killer.”
    Barolli banged back his chair and stood up, and Cameron for the first time turned his attention toward him.
    “This is a waste of time,” Barolli growled.
    Cameron stood up, and Barolli got to see for the first time how tall he was—well over six feet. He was also exceptionally fit, his body lean and muscular.
    “Is that what you think, Sergeant Barolli—that I am wasting your time? I guarantee that I will not have any further meetings with you. Impatient little man, aren’t you?”
    Barolli glared at Anna to get out of her seat to return to the main area.
    Cameron moved closer to the bars and addressed Anna. “Let me get into his mind. I will become the man you want and give you an insight into who he is.”
    Anna stood up, still refusing to look at Cameron directly as he continued. “You have three dead girls—one prostitute and two unidentified victims. You have no suspect and no witness, no DNA—you have nothing! But I guarantee I will be able to help your inquiry. Trust me. However, I need to have access to all your files to date on all three cases, the pathology and forensic details and statements and . . .”
    Anna at last plucked up the courage to look at him directly.
    Their eyes locked for a moment, then she turned away, picking up her chair to walk back down the aisle following Barolli. All the hair on her body was standing up, as if she had stepped into an ice-cold room. Cameron Welsh was the last person she would trust, and she swore that she would not subject herself to another visit. Due to the prison security they had to wait for the guards to take them back into the main prison. She could sense that Cameron Welsh was looking at her via the small hand mirror.

Chapter Three
    A nna was writing up her report on the incident board and couldn’t help overhearing Barolli chatting with Mike Lewis.
    “Bloody drove all the way to Leeds to sit and listen to this egotistical bastard telling us that he could help crack our case. He only wanted all the forensic and postmortem reports and the photographs . . . sick fucker.”
    “If we want an insight, we could always bring on board a profiler,” Mike said.
    Anna joined them. “But not one of them is a killer,” she pointed out.
    Barolli was surprised, asking if she was having second thoughts.
    “No. I think he just wanted us—or me—there for his own kudos in the prison system. He will brag how he was able to get Met officers to come to him.”
    “You should have seen his cell,” Barolli fulminated,