the sort of killer who would achieve a sexual gratification from strangling his victims.’ He paused, as if to let this sink in. ‘Both strangulation and the taking of trophies normally coincide with sexual activity.’
‘You mean rape?’
‘Not always. As you know yourself, some of these serial killers are impotent and use their victims’ fear to heighten their own sexual urges. The absence of semen or any other bodily fluids is surprising.’
‘Perhaps he was clever enough to know about DNA fingerprinting?’ Lorimer suggested wryly.
‘I think he’s even cleverer than that, Chief Inspector.’
The psychologist uncrossed his legs, stood up and turned to look out of the window. When he spoke again, it was almost to himself.
‘I think he is very clever indeed. In fact, I believe he’s leading us up the garden path.’
Lorimer waited. hands clasped under his chin, staring at the enigmatic figure before him. He had the sudden feeling that something momentous was taking place. It was a sensation that left him outside, like an observer. For once, he was surprised to note, such a feeling did not trouble him.
‘Chief Inspector.’Solly had turned round and Lorimer saw the bearded face, solemn and sad as if some profound insight had wiped away that customary smile. I don’t think we’re looking for a serial killer. Oh, I know he’s killed three young women’ – Solly held up his hand to forestall Lorimer’s protest – ‘I know he went for Alison Girdley. But it just doesn’t fit.’
‘What doesn’t fit?’
Solly sat down again with a sigh.
‘He kills three girls with a bicycle chain. He scalps them and retains their hair. Then he takes them to a park where they will be found by a member of the public. Why?’
‘If I knew why, I’d have had a better chance of apprehending him by now,’ Lorimer replied testily.
Solly nodded sadly again.
‘He wanted to kill. There is no apparent sexual motivation. There is no sign of any preliminary torture or menace. We have Alison Girdley’s statement showing that he lured her near enough to lash out and kill. That’s all he wanted. To kill.’
‘Or to obtain scalps?’
‘If he is a genuine fetishist he would be likely to have a history of mental illness. Your trawl of the hospital records would have uncovered something. Probably.’
‘Wait till you hear what he says on the tape,’ Lorimer replied, pulling open his desk drawer.
He removed a cassette from an evidence bag then slotted it into the tape recorder on his desk. Solly stared intently as the play button was pushed. There was a moment’s silence, then a nervous throat-clearing before a Scottish voice proclaimed: ‘I killed those girls.’ There was a pause that would have done justice to Solly’s own deliberate manner. ‘Can you guess what colour I’m going to have next?’ Another pause was followed by a snigger then the sound of a telephone being put down.
Lorimer watched theman opposite as he listened intently. Solly’s gaze never wavered.
‘Again,’ he said.
Lorimer rewound the tape and they listened to the words falling into the space between them.
‘So.’ Lorimer fixed his blue gaze on Solly. ‘Do you still rule out the theory that we have a killer who is fixated with scalping young girls?’
Solly did not reply immediately, but sat frowning in concentration, biting his lower lip.
‘I agree that the victims were selected at random,’ he began, then added, ‘Mostly.’
‘Mostly?’
‘Yes. I believe one of these girls was known to him. I believe that he has very cleverly tried to make us think that we are dealing with some maniac who compulsively kills and scalps young women for some sort of perverted pleasure.’ Solly shook his head, then continued, ‘I don’t believe that. I think he is putting up some sort of smokescreen. He has killed two young women at random to cover up the premeditated murder of a third.’
Lorimer’s eyes hardened, but not because he