A Reason to Kill by Michael Kerr Page A

opened a couple of windows front and back to create a through draught, and sprayed the kitchen and lounge with air freshener to nullify the stink of stale sweat, cigarette smoke and Scotch. He even washed up the pile of plates and cutlery he’d dumped in the sink, and closed up the sofa bed. Lastly, he got Des – the cop who was on duty outside, guarding him – to go upstairs and find him a clean T-shirt and pair of jeans. He then cut the left leg out of the jeans and slit the side of them open so that he could fit them around the cast and fasten them up with safety pins. A cruel waste of a good pair of Levi’s that were only five or six years old.
    He had washed, combed his hair, but not shaved, when a car pulled up outside. He limped through to the front door before the bell rang.
    “I’ll get the coffee going,” Tom said after the introductions were done with and Matt was sitting on the sofa. Beth took an easy chair, facing him across an Ikea coffee table.
    “We met briefly on the Gentleman Killer case three years ago,” Matt said.
    Beth remembered his face. “You’ve lost a little weight since then,” she said. “It doesn’t suit you. And I’m not so sure about the designer stubble.”
    “Thanks. I’ll go on a junk food binge and shave.”
    They smiled. Both had the simultaneous thought that they could probably work together.
    “Isn’t your forte serial murderers, Beth?” Matt asked.
    “Yes, but Jack McClane asked me to look at this one. And I get the feeling that your hitman falls into the same category. A career choice of killing people for money is serial to me on one level.”
    Matt shrugged. “I think they have a different mindset.”
    “More disciplined, Matt. And channelled in a way that on the surface might appear to be wholly different. But the bottom line is that they are repeat killers.”
    “So you’d compare this guy to say, the Gentleman?”
    Beth frowned and pursed her lips for a second. “To a degree, yes. Karl Mason committed up-close acts of barbarism on his victims, and left them covered by a sheet with a ‘thank you’ card and a rose on their chests. In each case, he had stalked the women after careful selection. They had to conform specifically. All seven of them were approximately the same age and colouring. They physically resembled his ex-wife, who had left him for another man. But not all ritual or pattern murderers are reacting to one traumatic event that has triggered their actions. This guy kills for the thrill of it. I have no doubt that although he does it professionally, he will also do it for pleasure. The bottom line is, that behaviour always reflects personality. Something started him off. Maybe contract killing is grandstanding. His actions impress the people that hire him. The payment is reward for a job well done. It will bolster his self esteem as well as his bank account.”
    Tom brought three mugs of coffee through on a tray and set it down on the table.
    “Are you saying that one incident can blow their circuits and send them down a certain path?” Matt asked Beth.
    Beth shook her head. “No. It’s never usually as simple as that. I think it’s an accumulation of things, culminating in one event too many. Research shows that a typical serial killer has been disturbed as a child. They become apart from the society they live among, introverted, and vent their pain by making others suffer.”
    “You don’t accept that some apples just go bad without any outside stimulus to account for it?” Tom asked.
    “Yes, as an exception, but not the rule. From what I already know, this man has mental problems. He self mutilates and talks to himself. He might be a homicidal psychopath who also suffers from schizophrenia. At the very least, he may well be dysfunctional, unable to form relationships, and have a host of other symptoms.”
    “Does that help us?” Matt asked.
    “It should. He may have spent some time in an institution. And even if not, he could be