Authors: Saffina Desforges
112
Ceri demanded, “And your evidence for this assertion is what exactly?”
“It’s just common sense.”
“Common sense? Do you remember Gary Glitter?”
“Who could forget? I always had him down as a wrong 'un.”
“He was no stunted dwarf, as you know. And more importantly he had a string of
high profile, celebrity girl-friends right up until his first arrest, when he
put his computer in for repairs. All adult, all fully grown, all drop-dead
gorgeous. Yet at the same time he was secretly downloading sick child-porn, and
as we later learned, abusing pre-teen girls in the Far East.”
Matt shrugged. “Your point being?”
“That your reasoning is egocentric, Matt. You’re falling into the same trap as
Dunst.”
Matt looked inexplicably guilty. “I am?”
“I think I know what you mean, Ceri,” Claire said. “Thomas made me aware
of it. About judging other people’s motives by your own preconceptions.”
“Precisely,” said Ceri. “Dunst may just be right. Maybe the killer is some
stunted dwarf incapable of so-called normal relationships. But there is an
alternative that has to be considered. That Uncle Tom genuinely finds little
girls sexually appealiheir own right. And that maybe he genuinely gets pleasure
from killing them. We have to understand the murders from his perspective, not
ours. Professor Canter made that point very clearly when he helped solve the
Babb murders in Birmingham in the eighties.”
“Babb?”
“Adrian Babb. To all outward appearances a normal twenty year old, but he
found sexual fulfilment in assaulting old-age pensioners. The Judge recognised
he was acting through personal desire rather than some psychiatric disorder. We
have to keep the same options open with Uncle Tom. Just because he kills young
girls doesn’t make him insane of mind or warped of body. Most serial killers are
quite normal in their everyday lives. The real weirdos, like Albert Fish, are
thankfully few and far between. It’s the ones that appear normal, like Fred and
Rosemary West, that are the hardest to pin down.”
“But hold on, Ceri,” Matt said, searching his notes. “There was a weapon
involved. Forensics determined a blade had been used to cut the cords that tied
the two Welsh girls.”
“The cord was cut with a short, blunt knife, Matt. Knives used as weapons in
sex attacks are habitually long-handled, long-bladed and gleaming clean. The
only knife Uncle Tom used was an old pen-knife. If the attacks were on boys, or
there was evidence of anal interference that would be different. But there’s no
evidence of either rape or buggery being attempted.”
She realised Claire was wiping moist eyes. “I’m sorry, but we have to deal
with every aspect. I simply don’t believe intercourse of any sort was a
consideration for Uncle Tom.”
Matt refilled his and Claire’s glasses. “You’re saying Uncle Tom is so
obsessed with little girls that he’ll abduct, sexually assault and kill them,
but won’t try to rape them? I’m sorry, but it doesn’t make sense.”
“Like I said, Matt, you need to try see things from his perspective, not
yours. Not everyone attaches the same importance to the act of intercourse. Take
Robert Black for example. Probably Britain’s most notorious child-killer. We’ll
never know for sure how many little girls he killed. But rape was never
attempted. The victims were sexually abused in the most obscene ways, but he
never once attempted to use his penis.”
Ceri spoke in detached tones, weighing up the evidence objectively,
unemotionally, using clinical terms to depersonalise the heinous acts she was
describing. “Dunst argued that the calling card was a form of substitute rape.
I disagree. Uncle Tom just wanted to be sure the card was found.”
“So why not just tie it to the body?”
“So it wouldn’t drift off, maybe. But primarily, to maximise the impact. The
media sensationalism. He wanted the bodies to be found.”
Claire asked, “But if there was no rape, why clean the bodies so
thoroughly?”
“First, an obsession with hygiene. It’s common among sex offenders to find
obsessive neurotic traits. Sexual anxieties often manifest themselves in some
form of OCD. I don’t believe Uncle Tom’s psychotic, but that doesn’t rule out
the possibility he’s neurotic. I would imagine the victims were gently bathed,
post-mortem.”
“But they were still alive when the assaults took place?”
“There’s no suggestion of necrophilia, so yes.”
Claire was struggling to keep control. Matt took her hand. “Dunst hinted that
there might have been.”
“Dunst would just love that.”
“The only necrophiles I’ve ever heard of involved men with other men’s
corpses. Dahmer. Nielsen.”
“Don’t close your mind to the possibility, Matt. Recorded examples of
necro-paedophilic dysfunction are extremely rare, but Albert Fish springs to
mind. He ate little girls, stewed, and what he did to little boys you just do
not want to know. Uncle Tom is quite tame by comparison. But I’m thinking maybe
the post-mortem cleansing is seen by Uncle Tom as making amends in some way.
Some kind of warped guilt complex. But that’s pure conjecture. We have to opero
reason, within a band of probabilities based on the evidence.”
“Dunst argued the hygiene obsession reflected forensic awareness, thereby
proving Uncle Tom had previous convictions.”
“Dunst is wrong.”
“Just like that? He’s wrong? What happened to reason, to a band of
probabilities?”
“I think we’re seeing evidence of professional blindness here.”
“Of what?”
“Professional blindness. It’s a natural, subconscious process of reasoning, in
any professional field, that the work you do yourself is of special value.
Anybody can stack shelves in a supermarket or pick up litter in a park, but
skilled jobs, like journalism or lecturing, psychiatry or medicine, or police
forensics, are special, and the people who work in them are beyond reproach. The
villains always come from other backgrounds, never your own.”
“You’re saying Uncle Tom could be a cop?”
“Let’s just say someone with a professional knowledge of forensics, rather
than someone who’s learned about it from the wrong end. It seems to me the
Police, and Dunst in particular, have subconsciously dismissed that possibility.
By imposing these preconceptions they’ve ruled out the girl in the boot of the
car being connected.”
“So you’re still convinced Shrewsbury and Telford are linked?”
“One hundred per cent. But let me finish debunking Dunst first.” There was
just a hint of mischief in her voice.
113
“Let’s consider his proposal that Uncle Tom has a marine background,” Ceri
said. “Dunst argues it from several points. The attacker preys on children
because he’s inexperienced with women, which could indicate a background in a
masculine environment. Dunst suggested the navy, followed by time in prison. I
can see his angle. Both macho, male environments. The nautical associations also
come to mind with the types of knot used to secure the bodies to the bikes, and
of course the disposal of the victims in water. Now the first point is fair. I
googled some yachting sites and both types of knot are commonly used. Obviously
the knots are part of his modus operandi, nothing unusual there. The Boston
Strangler had a special butterfly knot he always used.”
She let Matt catch up with his notes.
“But I’m not so happy with the second point. I think Dunst is trying to make
an equation with burial at sea. But then, why canals? What could be less like
the sea than the still water of a canal? Why not a harbour or an estuary? Or the
sea itself. Someone with marine experience as Dunst suggests would surely know
the tides. It wouldn’t be difficult to ensure the bodies were carried out to
sea, not back to land. But as I’ve already said, I believe Uncle Tom wanted the
bodies to be found. And that he’s neither a known offender, nor someone with a
marine background.”
“But the knots…you just agreed they were nautical.”
“They are, but don’t read too much into it. Profiling is an inexact science.
Dunst likes to treat it like art, going for the poetic flourish, but I think
there may be a more mundane explanation. Consider how Uncle Tom kills his
victims. Ligature strangulation, using something the girls had on them when they
were abducted. But in each case a garrotte was effected using a stick of some
sort to tighten the tourniquet.”
“A medical background?”
“That was my first thought too. But tourniquets are an obsolete concept. I
checked on some first-aid sites, which were indicative. Modern first-aid theory
is quite explicit in stating tourniquets are dangerous and should not be used.
But historically, by which I mean a few decades earlier, a tourniquet was
considered an essential tool. Which could mean our killer learned rudimentary
first-aid many years ago, which would push him to the latter end of the age-band
Dunst has established.”
“Late thirties?”
“Or older. Generally, older men tend not to be sex killers, just abusers, but
let’s rule nothing out. Take the factors together: an out-dated knowledge of
basic first-aid, familiarity with sea-faring knots and a pen-knife to cut ropes.
Doesn’t that ring any bells?”
“No.”
“I’m thinking Uncle Tom could be in his forties or older, with boyhood
experience in the scouting movement.”
“Well that narrows it down to a few million people.” The sarcasm in Claire’s
voice was barely disguised.
“It’s a start, Claire. There’s more.”
Matt uncorked a fourth bottle. The note-taking had subsided. Alcohol and
shorthand did not mix.
“Let’s come back to the Shrewsbury abduction,” Ceri said quietly. “I’m
convinced she was a victim of Uncle Tom.
“Dunst argued her being in a car ruled that out.”
“Dunst is wrong. The girl in the car was abducted by Uncle Tom on the spur of
the movement, a day early. An impulse abduction.”
It was too much for Claire. Through tears she said, “An impulse abduction, a
day early? Ceri, maybe we should leave this until the morning. When we’re all
sober?” She looked to Matt for support. Matt nodded his agreement.
“It’s only my second glass. You and Matt have drunk the rest.”
The guilty parties adopted suitably shamed expressions.
The empty bottles lay scattered before them, incriminating them further.
114
Ceri drove home her advantage.
“Since I wrote my original profile I’ve had the chance to think through a few
ideas. One thing was particularly bothering me, but I couldn’t quite get it to
work until this afternoon, thanks to you two bringing me here.”
“Us?”
“Bear with me. There’s a pattern to the attacks that we’ve all overlooked so
far. I’m amazed Dunst missed it, but that’s how it goes sometimes. The really
obvious pointers stick out so far you look round them rather than at them. A
case of not seeing the wood for the trees. Consider the five abductions
together. Look.” She grabbed a pen and paper and listed the girls, one beneath
the other, in order of abduction.
“Rebecca. Laura Coverton. Tina Stamp. Michelle Morgan. Andrea Whiteman.”
“It’s not official yet that the last girl was even abducted, let alone by
Uncle Tom.”
“It was Uncle Tom, Matt. The girl’s body will turn up in due course.”
It was a sobering statement, said without emotion.
Dabbing her eyes, Claire asked, “How can you be so sure?”
“Look.” Ceri listed the dates of the girls’ disappearances besides their
names. “August second, September first, September thirtieth, October first.
“So?”
“All the girls were taken on the first two days of the month.”
“Except Michelle. September thirtieth.”
“Like said, an impulse abduction. A day early.”
Matt was dismissive. “I’m sorry, Ceri, but even after four bottles that’s a
bit much to ask us to believe.”
Ceri was undeterred. She listed the places where the girls had vanished from, in
order of disappearance, one below the other. “Pegwell Bay, Queensferry, Rhyl,
Shrewsbury, Telford. Don’t you see?”
Claire took the list, staring at it, not comprehending. She handed it to Matt.
“So?”
Ceri took the paper back and folded the page so only the first letters of the
place names were showing.
“Oh god. P, Q, R, S, T. But…”
“I didn’t realise at first. The newspapers reported Rebecca as missing from
Ramsgate, being the nearest town. It was only when you actually brought me here
I realised she’s actually been taken from a place called Pegwell Bay. That’s
when it all fell into place.”
“But why?”
“The possibilities are endless. My initial thoughts are an obsessive
dysfunction. Someone fixated with order. It would sit well with the hygiene
neurosis.”
Matt stared at the list, searching his mind for old news stories that demonsted
similar patterns. How often had killers followed such cliched traits, like
attacking on the night of the full moon? It was by no means unheard of. “Can
you flesh this out for us?”
“I can try. It’s agreed the killer would most likely use a van. It was one of
the factors in Dunst disassociating Michelle’s abduction from the others, as you
said. A car is just too risky. But suppose Uncle Tom uses hired cars to get to
and from the van? A van customised in some way to facilitate the abductions?
Sound-proofed. Windowless. Inconspicuous from the outside.”
“Like Robert Black?”
“Exactly. Suppose Uncle Tom planned to take a girl from Shrewsbury on the
Tuesday. Tuesday October first. He was in town on the Monday, probably selecting
target areas to return to the following day. Michelle was last seen, by her
mother, waving from the top of the car park. Just suppose Uncle Tom was, by
sheer coincidence, in the car park at that time. Perhaps using the vantage point
to overlook the town and select an area for the planned abduction. A deserted
car park. Try to imagine it. He’s all psyched up by then, fantasising about the
attack planned for the following day. Then suddenly a lone child appears before
him. A young girl. It was just too much for him to resist.”
Claire shuddered, holding back the tears, searching her mind for an excuse to
dismiss this all too simple scenario. “Why leave her in the car?”
“Control. Self-control. Having acted impulsively in seizing the girl
prematurely, he had no choice but to bind and gag her. I would imagine he
intended to transfer her to the van, where I’m convinced the assaults take
place. Dunst is right on that point. Having acted on impulse Uncle Tom has time
to calm down, to compose himself. To get back to his schedule. He leaves the
girl in the car, intending to travel on to wherever it is he keeps his van. By
tragic coincidence the car is stolen. The rest we know…”
“So one way or another, the child was doomed,” said Matt quietly.
“And the Telford girl?” asked Claire. “Andrea Whiteman?”
“If I’m right, all we can do is wait for the body to be found.”