CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
With the discovery of another woman’s body Tony Lawrence’s Early Day Motion took off.
While it had been customarily difficult to attract signatures at the beginning it now became a must sign document. Members of Parliament from both sides of the House showed an eagerness to add their names to the document. It would remain highly unlikely to ever be debated but there was no doubt that before too long it would be noticed and the media would raise the heat on the government and the police to solve the case and prevent more women being murdered.
Lawrence need not have worried about press exposure. The discovery of the fifth body was already making the headlines in the print and electronic media. Not only was the discovery being written up in as much detail as reporters could glean from the police some of the newspapers took it on themselves to offer advice to women readers. The red top tabloids especially started putting together lists of dos and don’ts.
At the same time the police themselves stepped up their prevention activities as well. The Met’s communications department started preparing warning flyers that would be distributed to pubs and clubs across the capital. Other cities were not to be included as the evidence so far pointed to London being the only city where women were at risk. It was a huge undertaking and would take days before distribution was completed. Hopefully in the meantime the killer would not strike again.
Maguire stressed this point when he contacted me. “I don’t have to tell you this guy is a very nasty piece of work,” he said. “The sooner we can get hold of him and take him off the street the better.”
“That raises a point I wanted to pick up with you or someone at the Yard,” I said. “Thousands of words have been written about these murders and there is no doubt the media has been painting the murderer as a maniac. But we have not been told the full extent of the injuries these women suffered.”
“No,” Maguire answered.
“Can you tell me?”
“No.”
“Why not? I’m not interested for any sick reason. But if knew what the women went through it might help me get a stronger message out in the paper.”
“You really don’t want to know,” said Maguire.
“Listen,” I proposed, “if the readers of my paper and also of the other papers, not to mention the radio and especially the television, were to be told what had been done to these women it might actually lead to other women taking more precautions. It might prevent another death.”
Maguire did not say anything straight away. “How could I be sure if I did tell you that the media would not blast it all over the headlines in graphic detail? Don’t forget there are probably, very probably, other sickos out there who’d be turned on just knowing what the injuries were.”
“But if you told me first,” I countered, “and I mentioned it in my column and at the same time included a call for restraint on the part of the media it might be a positive thing.”
When Maguire did not answer immediately I went on: “I might also be able to convince my editor to make a request to all the other papers through the national media trade associations.”
There are two national associations that represent the local and regional press and the national press. The Newspaper Publishers’ Association is the trade association for British national newspapers. Its sole role is to represent, protect and promote the national newspaper industry. Founded in 1906 its members include Associated Newspapers, the Financial Times, Guardian newspapers, Independent newspapers, Trinity Mirror national titles, News International and the Telegraph Group.
On the other hand the Newspaper Society represents and promotes the interests of Britain's regional and local media. It was founded in 1836 and is believed to be the oldest publishers' association in the world. The sector is focused on providing local news and information across its twelve hundred daily and weekly, paid-for and free newspaper titles, and sixteen hundred websites. The NS is the voice of Britain's regional and local media. It exists to promote newspapers' interests in all political, legal and regulatory matters and to promote their strengths as news and marketing media.
“If we could bring them on board,” I said, “it would give us, and you, a good deal of control over what actually was published. Not just on this occasion but in future.”
I was mildly surprised when Maguire accepted my argument. With a condition. “Let me down on this Tighe and I really will have your balls on toast,” he said.
I was certain he meant what he said and so when I sat down at the computer immediately after the telephone conversation I primed myself mentally to be cautious and in no way go overboard with the descriptions even though there was adequate material to whet the temptation. When I had completed the column I would discuss it with my editor and at the same time try to sell in his approaches to the NPA and the NS.
Please read this calmly and with respect.
I thought that was the best way to start the column. Hint at a warning and at the same time whet the appetite.
What you are about to read here, for the very first time, will appal you.
It will disgust you.
It will shock you.
It will make you want to scream and damn to hell a fellow human being.
But I ask you to please exercise great control and do not overreact.
Had I gone too far? I recalled my conversation with Maguire and how I had promised not to over dramatise the issue, not to do anything to raise the ire of readers to such a level that would be dangerous.
I reread the introductory words. They were not inflammatory but they did border on overreaction. Border? Maybe more than border. Yet I could in all honesty see no other way to convey the message I was trying to get across. So, best to continue with the train of thought and see how it all looked when I had finished.
As readers will now know the serial killer has raised the total of his victims from four to five. The fifth body was discovered in Hackney Downs yesterday morning.
Once again it was a single woman.
And once again she had been brutally murdered.
Unlike the other victims whose bodies had been dumped and remained undiscovered for varying periods of time Paula Gibbons, aged twenty three, had been slain very recently. Or more accurately some of her injuries were very recent.
That distinction needs to be made because this writer is going to reveal, for the first time, the nature of how this serial killer operates.
He is certainly not what you would expect, even when weighed on the same scales of some of the most terrible serial killers this country has known.
Once again, readers are advised to read these words with calm and with control.
All five women had been tortured.
All five women had various body parts missing.
It is believed that all five women had been part of some dreadful ritual that was carried out over time.
Paula Gibbons had clearly been tortured for some time before she died.
The police are not sure exactly what took place but they believe she, as with the other women, had different body parts cut off over varying lengths of time.
Body parts removed include fingers, toes, ears, noses, feet, hands and even breasts.
Preliminary examination suggests that Paula Gibbons’ left breast had been sliced off only recently, perhaps no more than a day or two before her body was dumped.
A hand and a foot along with other parts of her body had also been hacked off.
I sat back in my chair and read what I had written. Once again I asked myself if the couple of hundred words I had penned would incite overreaction by readers. I hoped not but I could not hope to control the emotions of every single person who read my column. I could just hope that my readers were sensible. Lots of hope.
Finally, I would ask once more for readers to react calmly and sensibly to what I have written.
My intention has been to inform readers of what this serial killer does, how he inflicts pain on his victims before killing them.
It is not intended to cause panic or incite violence.
It is though hoped that by providing these details I am reminding women anywhere in the city, or indeed anywhere in the country, to exercise caution when not in the company of others. Especially at night.
Be sensible.
Be careful.
Be safe.
Now I planned to discuss what I had written with my editor and explain that I was doing this, if not with the blessing but with the confidential support, of Detective Maguire. In turn if my editor agreed to support me I would try to convince him to exert his influence with the NPA and the NS to get their members on side. Having broken the story of the extent of the injuries the murderer was inflicting on his victims it would then be up to the rest of the media to exercise control over themselves. That was not something that all sectors of the media were happy doing.
*
Jacqui Harrison had had a narrow escape.
Less than twenty-four hours before she had actually been in the clutches of a man who police believed could well have been the serial killer. And she had lived to tell the tale. In fact she told it three times to police. Once to uniformed police who arrived on the scene in St James’s Square. Once more at the police station in Horseferry Road. And a third time to two detectives who had driven to the station from New Scotland Yard.
Maguire and Walden sat across the table from Jacqui Harrison. All three had cups of steaming coffee in front of them and there was a plate of mixed biscuits in the centre. The detectives were doing their best to help the young woman relax and not to feel under too much pressure.
“So,” said Maguire with a lightness in his tone, “not the best way to end a night out. But safe and sound in the end.”
Jacqui sniffed. “You could say that again. He frightened me to death. I thought I was going to be raped.”
“You’re a very lucky lady,” Walden said. “And you did exactly the right thing. By not going with him and then by shouting for help when he put his hands on you.”
“I didn’t actually shout for help,” she said. “To be honest I was scared as I said and just shouted to him to let go of me. If it wasn’t for those two guys across the road who heard me I don’t know what would have happened.”
“And they did the right thing by calling the police too,” Maguire said. “Even though you were not harmed it was correct to call the police.” He held up the plate of biscuits and offered them to Jacqui. “You don’t know what he might have done. He could have gone looking for another young woman to molest. We just hope that he was frightened off.”
Jacqui took a chocolate coated biscuit and took a nibble. “What happens now?” she asked. “I mean, it’s really getting late and I should be getting home.”
“Absolutely,” said Maguire. “We’ll drive you home. But just before we do could you please describe the man again.”
Jacqui took another bite of biscuit and a sip from her coffee. The man, she said, was aged probably around thirty, maybe a year or two older. He was not that tall, but not short, and he was lean. Not athletic, she said, but he took care with his appearance. His hair was dark and he had a moustache which she thought was not odd but different because men these days did not go in for moustaches. Overall, Jacqui said, the man was rather good looking.
“He was polite too,” she told the detectives. “He was really nice in the pub. Not pushy or in your face or anything like that. Just normal, or nicer than normal actually. So many men are so direct. They just want to get into your pants.”
She laughed. “Sorry,” she said, “but that is the truth. He just seemed different. Really nice.”
“That didn’t last though did it?” said Walden.
“No,” Jacqui replied. “He was really pleasant and talking really friendly when we were walking down from the pub. But as soon as I said I didn’t want to go home with him, or get into his car I mean, he got nasty. He just grabbed me. I was really frightened.”
“Well, you’re safe now,” comforted Maguire. “And what did you say his name was?”
“Brendon. I don’t know his last name, but he told me his first name was Brendon.”
“That’s ok,” said Maguire. He exchanged glances with Walden and then said: “Well, I think that’s all we can do for now. We’ll get someone to drive you home. We might want to get in touch with you again, and we have your details, so if anything turns up or we need to touch base with you again we’ll be in touch.”
They all stood. “In the meantime,” said Walden. “please be careful out there. I’m not saying don’t be friendly with any young men but no matter how nice they might seem you need to be very careful.” He smiled. “Attractive young ladies like yourself are always going to be targets so you need to be on guard at all times. Remember that.”
“I will,” Jacqui answered. “Believe me I’m going on a man diet now for a while.”
After she had left with a uniformed constable Maguire and Walden sat at the table again and munched on the remaining biscuits.
“What do you reckon?” asked Maguire.
“Impossible to say,” Walden replied. “Could have been a random attack.”
“Could have.”
“On the other hand it could be our man. But there’s nothing to suggest it was.”
“Or wasn’t.”
“Right,” said Walden.
“The only part of it all that intrigues me,” said Maguire, “was the guy’s manner leading up to the assault. All very friendly, overly so. And then when it came down to it his mood changes instantly and he becomes aggressive.”
“Mmmmm.”
Maguire went on: “Our guy is cutting up his victims. But he is doing it in different ways with the different women. It’s almost like he’s experimenting with something.”
“He’s a sick bastard,” said Walden.
“Absolutely,” Maguire agreed. “But he might be getting desperate. This latest victim was dumped in a more open space than most of the others. I’m just wondering if his modus operandi is to hang around pubs and clubs and sweet talk the women into going home with him and then holding them there and over time butchering them. And that’s the other thing: The injuries are carefully inflicted. They are not the result of frenzied attacks with a weapon. He’s cutting bits of his victims with care.”
“So,” said Walden, “You think he might be what, experimenting, by chopping up the women? What is he hoping to achieve then?”
“I have no idea. But if that is what he’s doing he isn’t going to stop now. And maybe Jacqui Harrison was targeted as his next victim.”
Walden drained his coffee cup. “If she was she was the luckiest woman in London tonight.”
*
All the way home he shook.
So much that he was sure that anyone following behind would notice his car veering from side to side in minute zig zags.
God how lucky he had been.
He had been certain that the woman would be compliant and that when he got her to his home he would be in total control.
But then she had got all virginal and backed off.
That was bad enough, but then he had lost it.
He had even tried to force it, had actually grabbed hold of her.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
He was lucky to have got away.
As soon as she screamed he knew that was the end and he had walked as fast as he could round the corner of the square to where his car was angle parked.
Without haste he had started up and driven off sedately so that if anyone was watching he would not draw undue attention.
But then the drive home was nerve wracking.
He could not help looking in his rear view mirror to check if he was being followed, or worse, if a police vehicle with its siren blaring was chasing him.
Of course it wasn’t but his hands continued to shake right up to the time he parked his car two blocks away from his home and walked the remainder of the way.
Once inside with the door closed behind him he almost burst into tears.
He slumped down on his sofa in the sitting room, buried his face in his hands, and sat very still for a long time.
Finally he removed his hands from his face, straightened his back, stared at the wall opposite and controlled his breathing.
When he was ready and in full control again he would consider his next move.
It would have to be soon but he would make very sure that nothing would go wrong this time.
And he would also do everything he possibly could to make sure the feathers were in his favour.
*
Forensic scientists use chemical, physical and biological techniques in the collection, analysis and reporting of forensic evidence. A plethora of television crime shows suggest that skilled scientists who have learned these techniques over years can produce vital incriminating evidence in a matter of minutes or at least hours. In fact it takes much longer and often the detailed analysis leads nowhere.
Forensic investigation begins with the collection of evidence and then proceeds through analysis and ultimately the results in a variety of formats for use in the court hearings that hopefully follow.
It is the collection and packaging of evidence at a crime scene that is a vital process. A forensic scientist is not routinely present at a crime scene and it is the police officer who generally is the first person to begin the process. If the officer’s approach to the identification of evidence and also the appreciation of the processes involved is professional then the scientist’s work thereafter can be that much easier. If the collection is haphazard or careless the chances of the evidence being of value diminishes.
The scientists use sophisticated equipment and techniques including spectrophotometers, chromatography, microscopy and photography. The investigation of crime scene samples frequently involves the use of biology and its applications including fingerprint analysis, DNA testing and the identification of hairs and fibres. They also have a keen understanding of DNA analysis and its use in profiling.
When the preliminary report from the FSS was delivered personally to Detective Senior Superintendent Alasdair Ford he had two surprises. The first was that it came through so quickly and the second was that it contained some very interesting information. The reason for the speed was twofold also. The FSS was well aware of the pressure on the police and the level of concern in the public domain over the murders. The other reason concerned what they had discovered.
“Right,” said Superintendent Ford when the contents of the report were explained to him. “Right. We’ll get right on this. Very helpful. Very helpful indeed.” Then he called his team together and briefed them.
DynamX is a high performance fabric made from sustainable resources. Those resources, he told his men, are woven into a yarn. This finished yarn is used to create the layer which offers key technical attributes which include that it is breathable, anti-microbial, offers thermal regulation and is durable. In other words it is great for use in materials worn by people who sweat a lot. Such as athletes.
When he stopped one of the detectives in the front row spoke up: “Are you saying that this stuff is made from stuff we could grow in our backyards?”
“You could say that, or something like that if you had a big enough yard?