A Deadly Compulsion by Michael Kerr Page B

stopped, then all blue-eyed blondes better dye their hair and start wearing green or brown contact lenses.”
    “Is that the good news or the bad?” Laura almost whispered.
    “There is no good news.  Now, where’s your john?  I need to off-load about half a gallon of coffee.”
    “The loo is upstairs, first on the left,” Laura said, smiling at his Americanism.
    “I’ll be back,” he said in perfect Schwarzenese as he headed through the lounge towards the spiral staircase and vanished from view.
    Laura made notes.  Jim had already given her leads to follow that they had not even considered.  His way of thinking, or feeling, was from out of left field and not hindered by just hard evidence, or lack of it.  He had an insight that put him on the outside, looking in at an almost blank canvas, but able to conjure up the picture from just seeing the first few brushstrokes.
    “That’s better,” Jim said, returning and mulling over the sheets of paper in front of him.
    “What do you suggest?” Laura said.  “How would you proceed?”
    “Apart from checking out likely past victims and the matricide angle, there’s not a lot you can do.  To sum up, I think you’re looking for a young Caucasian male, who may be fair-haired and blue-eyed.  He’s fit, probably works out, and will be around six feet or even taller.  I’d bet the farm on him being local to the area, living alone in an isolated setting.  He is left-handed, and most likely holds a position of authority in a field of work that he enjoys.  As for the victims, he doesn’t know them.  He picks them out purely because of their physical appearance, and will then stalk them for a while to get to know their habits and assess how easily they can be abducted.  He’ll take no chances.
    “He may be out of control and running amok from your point of view, but he’s calling the shots, manipulating the proceedings, and would abort an attack if anything unforeseen came up.  If he stops killing, then you may never know his identity.  Like it or not, you need for him to carry on, and even then he could fill a graveyard before you get him.”
    “I’m impressed,” Laura said.  “But run through some points for me.  How can you know so much about him from what I sent you?”
    “The autopsy protocols say a lot.  The downward angle of blows to the right side of the heads, correlated with the height of the victims, pins his approximate height.  And that he cut the throats right to left confirms that he’s a lefty.  He has no need to pretend to be left-handed.  Your handwriting experts will confirm that from the note.  And the fact that only twelve to fifteen percent of the male population are left-handed cuts out a high percentage of men who might otherwise fit the bill.  As for his colouring, I’m sticking with my theory that the girls represent an idealised version of how his mother looked.  I choose to believe that he takes after her, which makes him a blonde, or fair with blue eyes.  It’s a stretch, but good odds.  She hurt him, sexually abused him, or just pissed him off big time.  Whatever she did, scrambled him.  The rapes are violent and aggressive, and the stapling of the mouth is to shut his imagined mother up and prevent further lies, scolding, or any verbal communication.”
    “And what makes you so sure that this is his patch?  Couldn’t he be killing a long way from where he lives?”
    “Not if he stalks them, and I know he does.  This dude lives and works in the York area.  He takes them back to his...lair, which is why I think he’s single.  He also keeps them for varying periods of time, sometimes days, so he has privacy.  He’s out in the country, lives in a semi-remote cottage, or on a farm.  He has to have a place where his comings and goings don’t attract attention.  Based on what information you’ve given me, combined with calculated guesswork and gut feeling, that’s the best I can come up with. At the