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  Another hand rose. ‘How do we establish a non-sexual reason if we need to?’

  ‘We might not be able to do so until an arrest is made.’ Some of the faces in front of him looked downbeat. ‘I give forces I work with the truth as I see it. I don’t have any quick-fix answers for you. There aren’t any.’

  His questioner slow-nodded. ‘OK. Say this killer crops up in the course of our investigation, would it be easy for us to suss him?’

  ‘What you’re asking is, can you expect him to stand out in some way, for example, present as socially isolated, a misfit?’ There was a low murmur of voices. Traynor shook his head. ‘Probably not. Research indicates that a significant proportion of offenders who commit repeat offences such as rape and homicide lead otherwise productive lives. They’re able to blend. It’s one of the reasons they’re hard to stop.’ He saw looks being exchanged. ‘Repeat offender as odd-loner-misfit appeals because it offers the promise of that quick fix. It’s a Hollywood-style myth. There are one or two other myths I can talk about, if you wish?’ This got several nods. Traynor paused. The silence lengthened.

  Watts felt a quick ripple of anxiety, saw officers exchanging looks. Was the talk of repeat homicide getting to Traynor? He berated himself for not insisting on his doing this via notes. He looked up as Traynor’s voice came again, strong, authoritative.

  ‘Let’s start with the myth that repeat offenders are so driven to kill that they can’t stop. The finding of Annette Barlow’s and Daniel Broughton’s remains after a decade and Zoe Roberts’ murder just days ago is telling us they can and do stop. But then they’re back. Worldwide research confirms such behaviour. We can’t discount the possibility of other victims during those ten years, earlier even.’

  ‘So, why do they stop temporarily?’ asked Kumar.

  Traynor paced. ‘Consider why we might choose to stop doing something which is rewarding and is working for us.’ He looked at them. ‘Maybe our circumstances have changed. We’re working harder, longer hours. Or, we’ve started a new relationship more satisfying than a previous one. Or, life in general is more relaxed, more rewarding.’

  Most officers were now taking notes. Jones raised his hand. ‘I get it. What I want to know about this bloke is, is he MENSA-clever or one stop past Barking?’

  Several officers grinned, Traynor along with them. ‘Yet another myth: repeat killer as brilliant adversary. In reality, the intellectual capabilities of such killers reflect those of the general population, ranging from above to below average. Some are highly disturbed. They tend to be apprehended relatively quickly.’ He looked at the faces in front of him. ‘My advice is avoid developing expectations of who or what he is.’

  Jones raised his hand again. ‘I read a book once …’ Amid colleagues’ quick cheers, he pressed on. ‘It said that repeat killers actually want to get caught. Is that true?’

  Traynor shook his head. ‘That’s a misreading of the research evidence. Think of the “career” of any offender. At the outset he’s lacking in experience. He’s unsure of himself and what he must do to satisfy his needs but also avoid arrest. He commits his first offence. He gets away with it. Now, he wants to repeat the experience. What does he need to do now?’

  ‘Get better at it?’ said Jones.

  Traynor nodded. ‘Well said. Like most people who begin a new activity, he learns what he needs to do by doing, by planning his attacks, covering his tracks, avoiding arrest. Time passes. He’s getting better and better. Now he’s an expert. He isn’t getting caught.’ The room was silent. ‘What happens now?’

  ‘He gets cocky and thinks he never will be,’ said Watts.

  ‘Exactly. Once he feels invincible, he starts taking chances, which gradually increases the likelihood that he will be caught. That’s what gives rise to the myth that they want to be stopped. They never do. They want to continue doing what they want to do. What they enjoy.’

  Watts looked up. Within the quick buzz of talk, he’d picked up what sounded like one or two muted references to Traynor’s own family. He looked at him. If he’d heard them, it wasn’t showing. His eyes were fixed on his audience.

  ‘So, what does all of this mean for this team?’

  They quietened.

  ‘Whoever this killer is, he has a life. He may be a husband, a partner, a father, an employee, an employer, able to present himself in an acceptable way, confident in what he’s doing, including when he’s actively involved in selecting a victim.’

  Watts glanced across at Judd. She looked better than she had an hour ago, her eyes fixed on Traynor.

  ‘He’s careful. He’s likely to have a good level of intellect. He may take time off from killing but he’s not invincible. He can be stopped.’ He looked at each of the faces gazing back at him. ‘His confidence will be his undoing.’

  Judd raised her hand.

  Traynor looked at her. ‘PC Judd?’

  ‘Can you say anything about this killer’s motivation?’

  Traynor took a few slow steps in her direction, his eyes fixed on the floor. ‘As I said, motive can be a really complex issue so your question isn’t an easy one to answer. What we do know is that most repeat offenders are motivated by sex, plus the thrill of duping another person, doing what they do in the midst of people who know them, who would never, ever believe them capable of such acts.’

  Hearing this, Judd thought of Josephs.

  ‘As I said, a non-sexual motive is likely to emerge very late in the day. At this stage, it’s reasonable to anticipate that these three homicides were sexually motivated and the inclusion of a male victim does not rule it out. It’s telling us that this investigation is much more complex than anticipated, that whoever killed all three victims is an extremely deviant opponent. DI Watts and I are agreed on the sexual angle but we’ll remain flexible as the investigation progresses. What I can say is that, whatever his motivation, this killer is feeling superior to you. To us.’ He looked at Judd. ‘Probably not quite the answer you wanted, but it’s the best I can offer right now.’

  She nodded. ‘It’s all interesting, and I can see how the organized-disorganized categorization of these killers fits with a lot of what you’ve said.’

  He looked at her. ‘Would you like to say something about that?’

  Watts eyed her as she stood, small and intense-looking.

  ‘Well, those with a good level of intelligence, the planners, the careful killers who don’t leave evidence, they’re the “organized” ones. They’re the kind to stalk or observe a victim prior to striking, which is what we’re considering for the Roberts case.’

  Traynor nodded. ‘And the disorganized type?’

  ‘They’re the other side of the coin. What they do tends to be careless or less focused. They risk getting caught more easily.’

  ‘A good summation, PC Judd. Do you have a theory about a killer who displays predominantly organized but also a disorganized trait?’

  ‘Well, it suggests impulsivity to me.’

  Traynor nodded, looked at his audience. ‘Our offender is demonstrating that, careful as he is, he can act without foresight. Let’s hope so, but given his predominant offending behaviour, what type of killer do we have here?’

  Watts started at the single-word chorus. ‘Organized.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Traynor quietly. ‘There’s no need for anyone here to feel overwhelmed. Yes, there’s pressure, but these are early days. We already have a very basic idea of the kind of person we’re looking for. We have a crime scene and two disposal sites from which forensics will extract every scrap of information and meaning. DI Watts has established regular briefings. When he knows something, you’ll know it. If you have questions, don’t hold on to them. Come and talk to us.’ He paused, gave each officer direct eye-contact. ‘We will find this killer.’

  Watts started again at the sudden wave of spontaneous applause.

  Watts came into his office feeling buoyant for the first time in days. Traynor had laid it out for them str
aight, told them it wasn’t going to be easy but that they had what it took. ‘That was exactly what they needed. You gave them a lot to think about, challenged what they thought they knew and reminded them that they’re part of a team.’ He glanced at Judd. ‘And you’ve perked up a bit.’

  She looked away from him. ‘This “part-of-a-team” business is something I’ve heard a million times since I joined the force. What’s so great about it?’

  Watts deep-breathed, pointed at the list he’d added to the Smartboard.

  ‘For the sake of my blood pressure, we’ll look at next actions.’ He turned to Traynor. ‘Heard anything about Annette Barlow’s father?’

  ‘A text from PC Sharma saying he’s recovered. I’m leaving in ten minutes to see him.’

  ‘In that case, I’ll get over to that bookshop Daniel Broughton is known to have visited shortly before he disappeared.’ He turned to Judd. ‘How about you pop over to Zoe Roberts’ law firm in Solihull?’

  ‘OK.’

  ‘Hang on, though. It might be better if I went there, given what we know about Roberts’ husband.’

  Colour washed over her face. ‘You just asked me to do it!’

  ‘All right, calm down. Go, but be careful about the topics you raise. Take a, “tell me whatever you want” approach.’ He opened a file, removed a sheet of A4, pushed it towards her. ‘The person to see is Damien Blunt, senior partner. Talk to him about Roberts, ask to speak to other employees.’ He waited as Judd quickly wrote. ‘You’re after all the info you can get about her, the kind of work she did, other employees she worked alongside, particularly any she was mates with, what they knew about her social life, whether she had any anxieties, you know the kind of thing. See what emerges on Christian Roberts, including what they know about his current whereabouts and when they last had contact with him.’

  Judd reached for her bag, stowed pen and notebook in it and headed for the door. Watts’ eyes tracked her. ‘Phone ahead to let them know you’re coming. When you come back, I want a report on what you found, plus the one on that wine shop visit!’ Watching the door close, he shook his head, glanced at Traynor. ‘If you come up with any theories about that one, I’ll be interested to hear them.’

  TWELVE

  Friday 19 August. Midday.

  Judd was sitting in the smart reception area of Blunt, Webb & Roberts, where she’d been for the last forty minutes. Long enough to realize that, rather than lending her authority, the full summer uniform she’d decided on hadn’t made so much as a dent to the workings of this busy law firm. Plus, she should have phoned ahead. Feeling one of the receptionist’s eyes on her, she looked up.

  ‘Mr Blunt has found a small space in his diary, PC Judd. I’ll show you to his room.’

  Judd stood, followed her through a code-protected door and along a corridor, breathing in perfume which smelled pricey, wondering how she tolerated the sheer tights, soaring heels and savagely tailored dress in this weather. Aware of the weight of her uniform trousers, Judd decided that their jobs weren’t so different. It was all about image. The woman stopped at a door bearing Damien Blunt’s name, knocked softly, opened it and moved aside. Judd stepped into the large corner office, its blinds almost down. The door closed smoothly, silently behind her. A quick glance around and Judd’s eyes settled on a middle-aged man seated behind a large desk. He was beckoning to her. Stifling a quick rush of unease, she went further into the room, sat on the edge of the chair he was indicating without missing a beat of his telephone conversation.

  ‘I know, but company law doesn’t allow them that freedom.’ He nodded. ‘Yes. See you there.’ He put down the phone, looked across at Judd. ‘You’re here about Zoe Roberts.’

  ‘Yes, I—’

  ‘This entire practice is absolutely appalled at what has happened to her. I’m going into a meeting in a few minutes, but I’ll give you a quick rundown of what I can tell you about her.’

  Pen poised, Judd studied the neat dark hair, the crisp white shirt, the striped tie. Her lip curled. Probably old-school.

  ‘Zoe was a much valued, hard-working member of this firm. She joined us approximately seven years ago, following a short stint at a Birmingham practice after she qualified. She settled extremely well here and was a valued member of our team.’

  Judd made quick notes, thinking that it all sounded like a standard bio any employer might offer about some faceless employee looking to new horizons, not one who had just been savagely killed. ‘What kind of law did she work on?’

  ‘Zoe specialized in tax and insurance law.’

  She waited. ‘You mean, like car accidents?’

  Blunt’s face creased into a smile. ‘A little more upmarket, a little more complex than that. Zoe’s specialism was tax law and regulations.’

  Judd wrote quickly. ‘Would that be likely to make her any enemies?’

  This time he laughed outright. ‘Not at all.’

  ‘Do you know the area where she was murdered?’

  Blunt’s smile disappeared. ‘I don’t.’

  ‘Did you know that she ran there regularly?’

  ‘I knew only that she ran. We all knew.’

  ‘Did she have a particular friend among the staff here?’

  Blunt looked dismissive. ‘Zoe was extremely driven where work was concerned. It was one of her characteristics we valued. This is a hard-working practice, not a place to socialize. Fiona Webb was probably the nearest I would describe as a friend of Zoe’s.’

  Judd looked up. ‘She’s like, a partner here?’

  Blunt turned on his chair, glanced down at papers on his desk. ‘No. Her husband is, like, the partner.’

  Judd nodded, wrote. ‘And Christian Roberts is also a partner, not Zoe?’

  Blunt sent her an evaluative look. ‘In case your questions have an agenda, both Julian Webb and Christian Roberts are very skilled lawyers, each with years of experience.’

  Aware that the exchange between them wasn’t offering her anything relevant to Zoe Roberts’ death, Judd took a direct approach. ‘Zoe and her husband were separated.’

  ‘Yes, but what that has to do with what happened—’

  ‘Was there friction between them during the time they worked in this office?’

  ‘They didn’t. At least, not for the last five or so years. Christian is not based here.’

  She looked up at him. ‘Yes, we know. Did they previously work here together?’

  ‘My understanding is that you’re here to ask questions about Zoe.’

  ‘Yes, and as she and Mr Roberts were still married at the time she was killed, questions relating to him are relevant, particularly as he’s failed to contact his in-laws and the police about what’s happened to her. He must be aware that there’s a problem.’ She waited. ‘When was the last time you had contact with him?’

  ‘About five days ago.’

  ‘What did you talk about with him?’

  She saw Blunt’s face harden.

  ‘That was before what happened to Zoe and is of no concern to the police.’

  ‘We don’t know that, do we? It might be relevant.’ She waited. ‘Does it bother you that he hasn’t contacted the police? What do you think about that?’

  Blunt stood. She was on her feet, heartrate quickening as he came from behind his desk. ‘I cannot discuss Christian with you until I’ve spoken directly with him.’

  ‘Are you saying you’re as much in the dark about his behaviour as the police?’

  ‘I’ve said all that I’m prepared to say about Christian.’

  She looked him in the eye. ‘Mr Blunt, this is a murder investigation involving two of your employees. I would have thought as a lawyer you’d see the need for questions like those I’m asking you.’

  He gave her a cold look. ‘I don’t need you to tell me what this situation requires.’

  ‘Aren’t you at all concerned that he hasn’t been in touch? Is Mr Roberts a concern for this firm?’

  ‘I don’t like your tone—�
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  ‘Are you aware of Zoe Roberts having a problem with anyone, either professionally or socially?’

  ‘I am not. She was a very competent, valued member of this practice. I know nothing about her social life, although Zoe always appeared to me to exude a certain’ – he gave Judd a slow up-down look – ‘d’esprit heureux.’

  She watched him go to the door, thinking what a supercilious twat he was. ‘So, to the best of your knowledge, you’re not aware of Zoe Roberts having any problems of any kind?’

  Blunt now had the door open. ‘I did not know Zoe that well.’

  ‘You didn’t know her socially?’

  ‘No.’ Blunt turned away from Judd as a woman walked past. ‘Fiona! Can you spare a couple of minutes to speak with PC …?’

  ‘Judd.’

  The woman reappeared, gave Judd a friendly glance. Blunt was already on the move with a curt nod for Judd, and to Fiona. ‘Don’t forget our meeting.’

  Judd watched him go then followed the woman to a small, pleasant office. ‘Have a seat,’ she said. ‘Would you like some coffee? Or a cold drink?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  The woman gave her a kindly look. ‘Damien didn’t introduce us properly. My name is Fiona Webb, one of the practice lawyers. How can I help?’

  Judd turned to a fresh page of her notebook. ‘I’m part of the investigation into Zoe Roberts’ homicide.’

  Webb’s eyes widened. ‘I’m sorry, I should have realized, but … you’re so young. That’s not a criticism, by the way, just a little unexpected.’

  ‘I’d like you to tell me all you know about Zoe Roberts.’

  Webb looked thoughtful. ‘Zoe and I didn’t do the same kind of work, and we didn’t socialize out of office hours, but I helped her find her feet when she first arrived here. I found her very pleasant.’ Aware of Judd waiting, she added, ‘I don’t know what more I can tell you, except to say that what’s happened to her is absolutely hideous. Her family must be totally devastated. We’re all devastated here.’