By the end of her afternoons work, she had demonstrated empirically what the police had already decided on the basis of common sense and experience; the two murders were undoubtedly the work of one man. If that had been the only service she could have provided, there wouldnt have been much point in her making the trip. But she was convinced that by analysing the data she already had, she could point the police towards other crimes the killer might have committed. With access to that information, she might finally be able to construct a useful geographical profile.
What she needed now was to get out of the police station and let her mind roam free over the nuggets of information she had extracted from the files.
She had got back to the room to find a note from Kit propped up on the desk. Gone down to the bar. Meet me there when you get in, and well have dinner. Shed smiled then and crossed to the window to check out the view. It was strange to think that the beauty spread out before her concealed all the normal range of human ugliness. Somewhere in that honeycomb maze of buildings, a killer was probably going about his business, unsuspected by anyone. Fiona hoped that she could point the police in the right direction, so they could find him before he killed again.
But that was for later. Fiona turned away from the window and stripped off her clothes, wrinkling her nose at the smell of smoke that lingered in their fibres. A quick shower, then she changed into jeans and a ribbed silk shirt.
Fiona found Kit at a table in the corner of the bar, hunched over his laptop with a glass of inky red wine to hand and a bowl of olives pushed to one side. She put an arm across his shoulders and kissed the top of his head. Had a good day? she asked, settling into the leather chair opposite him.
He looked up, startled. Hi. Just let me save this. He finished what he was doing and turned off the computer. Folding it closed, he grinned at her. They let you have an evening off?
Sort of. Ive got to write a report later, but only a short one. It wont take long. Im letting it bed down before I commit myself. A waiter appeared and Fiona ordered a chilled manzanilla. What have you been up to?
Kit looked faintly sheepish. I went for a wander this afternoon. Just to soak up the ambience, you know? This place, its steeped in history. You can practically smell it in the air. Every corner you turn, theres something to see, something to imagine. Anyway, I got to thinking about the Inquisition, about what it must have been like here back then.
Fiona groaned. Dont tell me. It gave you the idea for a book.
Kit smiled. It started the wheels turning.
Is that what you were doing on the laptop?
He shook his head. No, its way too early to be writing stuff down. I was just doing a bit of polishing on what Ive been writing this last week or so. Tickling and tidying, the boring bollocks. What about you? What kind of day have you had?
The waiter put Fionas drink in front of her and she took a sip. Routine. Going through files by the numbers. Berrocals very organized. Very on the ball. You dont have to explain anything twice to him.
That makes your life a bit easier.
Youre not kidding. The trouble is, theres not much to go at. Normally, a killer chooses a body dump for reasons that are very personal to him. But because these body dumps have particular historical significance, it complicates things. Im not sure how much use geographical profiling will be.
Kit shrugged. You can only do your best. They certainly go in for gruesome in these parts. Theyve got this daft little train that takes you through the city and round the ring road on the other side of the river and the commentary is totally bizarre. Its in Spanish and German and a sort of fractured English, and they tell you all this stuff about the bloody history of the town. Theyve even got this place called the Gorge of the Woman with Her Throat Cut. Can you believe that?
Fiona was surprised. They tell you about that on the tourist trip?
He nodded. I know, its not the sort of thing youd normally boast about, is it?
Thats where one of our murder victims was dumped, Fiona said slowly. I was working on the assumption that only locals would be familiar with it.
Well, I can tell you all about it, Kit said. This woman shagged one of the guards and let the enemy attack the city, so they cut her throat to make sure she wouldnt be doing that again in a hurry.
Did you go down to San Juan de los Reyes? The big monastery church?
I walked past it. Im saving it for tomorrow.
Did you notice the chains on the facade?
Its hard to miss them. According to the guide book, Fernando and Isabella had them hung up there after the reconquest of Granada. They were used to shackle the Moors Christian prisoners. I must say, if thats typical of Isabellas idea of decor, I cant wait to see the inside. Eat your heart out, Home Front, he added with an ironic grin. Why do you ask?
Thats where the second body was found. Youve only been here half a day, and already you know the story behind both body dumps. It makes me wonder if Im right in what Im thinking.
Kit patted her hand and assumed an expression of mock-patronage. Never mind, love, you cant be right all of the time. You leave that to me.
Fiona snorted with laughter. Im so glad Ive got you to rely on. Now, are we going to eat dinner, or what?
Fiona sipped a glass of brandy and studied the rough ideas shed sketched out. In the background, the sound of Kits fingers tapping the keyboard of his laptop was faintly soothing. Even the mosquito buzz of his Walkman was comforting in its familiarity. He never interfered when she had work to do, something she was eternally grateful for. She had heard too many of her friends complain that if their man wasnt working, neither were they supposed to be. Kit was always happy to occupy himself with his own work or a book, or to take himself off to a bar and make new acquaintances. I am convinced that the perpetrators primary interest is not sexual satisfaction, (she read.) However, the nature of the sexual mutilation he has performed postmortem is suggestive. I believe it is a way of demonstrating contempt for what he sees as the weakness of his victims, which leads me to postulate that his method of contact with his victims was one of physical or sexual appeal. At its most crude, I would suggest that he picked them up, possibly on an earlier occasion, and arranged to meet them on the nights of the murders. He may have baited his approach with the suggestion that his specialist knowledge might be of use to them in their professional lives. It is clear that he does not appear to pose a threat to those he has selected as victims. He knows the kind of places where his potential victims are to be found. This implies considerable local knowledge and suggests that he is a native of Toledo. These were not killings that occurred out of sexual rage because of failure of performance or over arousal but from a different motive entirely.
So far, so good, she thought. She didnt think there was much to argue with there. These crimes demonstrate a relatively high level of sophistication and planning. It is therefore unlikely that the perpetrator is new to the world of criminal activity. He is far too comfortable with what he is doing. But if we accept that the motivation behind these murders is not primarily sexual, it therefore follows that its unlikely his previous crimes have been sexual in their nature. Given that both crime scenes are significant tourist sites, and that both victims were foreigners, I believe the key to the killers motivation is his view of visitors to his city. He sees them not as a benefit but as interlopers who are not to be welcomed. I think it most likely that his past crimes will have targeted either tourists or businesses related to tourism. He most probably began with acts of vandalism against hotels or businesses catering for tourists, such as souvenir shops. This may have escalated into attacks on tourists themselves, such as muggings.
So far, so good, she thought. She didnt think there was much to argue with there. These crimes demonstrate a relatively high level of sophistication and planning. It is therefore unlikely that the perpetrator is new to the world of criminal activity. He is far too comfortable with what he is doing. But if we accept that the motivation behind these murders is not primarily sexual, it therefore follows that its unlikely his previous crimes have been sexual in their nature. Given that both crime scenes are significant tourist sites, and that both victims were foreigners, I believe the key to the killers motivation is his view of visitors to his city. He sees them not as a benefit but as interlopers who are not to be welcomed. I think it most likely that his past crimes will have targeted either tourists or businesses related to tourism. He most probably began with acts of vandalism against hotels or businesses catering for tourists, such as souvenir shops. This may have escalated into attacks on tourists themselves, such as muggings.
Fiona sat back and considered. What she was suggesting was by no means a conventional profile of a serial killer, but she had been struck from the first by the unusual nature of the crime scenes. Most killers left their bodies where they killed them or chose carefully selected body dumps that had significance only because they were unlikely to be spotted abandoning the corpse. This killer had taken a high risk with his second victim, so the sites were clearly symbolic for him at a deep level. For once, where the bodies had been found seemed at least as important as the selection of the victims. They werent just places that symbolized violence. They would also have meaning for the casual visitor to the city, as Kits experience demonstrated.
She was pleased with the progress she had made. Now it was up to Salvador Berrocal to persuade the local police to give her the data she needed on crimes against property and persons related to tourism. Armed with that information, Fiona would be able to apply her theories of crime linkage to figure out which crimes had common offenders.