“And as you can see, it’s just like the other victims. Repeated stab wounds as if the killer was in a frenzy. Like the other female victims, she was also sexually assaulted and her heart, as well as most of her other organs, have been badly mutilated…”
Amy dashed away from the autopsy table and managed to reach the sink just in time. When she finished, she found herself wondering why the hell there would be a sink in a pathology lab, then she realised why and threw up again.
“Here you go, luv.” Amy looked up. The coroner, a short balding man with grey hair, was holding a paper towel. She snatched it from him to show that she didn’t approve of the sexism and threw in a dirty look for good measure.
“Thanks,” she said sullenly as she wiped her mouth. “Where is everyone?”
The old man smirked. “They’ve gone upstairs.”
Amy threw the soiled towel in a nearby peddle bin and made her way to the door, trying hard not to look at the autopsy table as she dashed past. She was going to kill Dave; he’d done that on purpose!
She found herself alone in the lift and started to pace around, running her hand through her long brown hair and fiddle with her curls like she always did when she was agitated. God, this was worse than she thought; she knew the freak was nuts but this was terrible. That made six victims now, two men and four women; how could he butcher them so badly? Hell, she should know that, it was the reason she was here, for Heaven’s sake!
She checked herself over in the reflective surface of the lift walls and was relieved to see that her little ‘discharge’ hadn’t spoilt the small amount of make-up she wore or caused her to crease her perfectly pressed business suit. She always felt that it was vital to keep a professional appearance at all times when working, especially during this, her first solo assignment. She never carried a handbag, preferring to keep her wallet in her pockets – if it was good enough for men, it was good enough for her. Unfortunately, it also meant she had no spare make-up to carry out repairs if they’d been needed.
The lift doors finally opened and she stepped out onto the fifth floor. It looked like any other open-plan office in any other business, all blue nylon carpet, shared desks and computers. Except that this was no accountancy firm; it was a special police task force that had been set up to catch a dangerous killer.
Amy looked around and finally noticed her brother standing in the corner of the office talking to another police officer. The other man wasn’t someone she recognised, but then again, she still hadn’t really met anyone in CID except Dave and his sergeant. Whoever this new guy was, he was taller than her brother. He must have been over six feet tall and Dave was no shorty at five eleven. The stranger was a tall black guy with a completely bald head and a smooth face that had soft features and a warm kind look. This was quite a contrast to Dave with his wavy brown hair and rough features, and even rougher manner, in Amy’s opinion! The only thing that the two men had in common were the equally smart dark blue business suits that they were both wearing.
Not giving any thought as to who the stranger was, Amy strode over to them and yelled for attention, “Dave! We need to talk.”
Her brother looked up. “Not now, sis. Chief Inspector Williams and I have things to discuss.”
“Oh really and who’s he?”
Chief Inspector Williams smiled warmly and extended his hand. “Sorry, ma’am, I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. I’ve just been temporarily transferred from London. Detective Chief Inspector Frank Williams.”
He was as well spoken as he was well dressed, with a very kind demeanour and great warmth in his voice. Amy couldn’t help but feel herself blush slightly as she shook his hand. He was so tall that she felt even shorter than usual; she almost felt that her neck was right back at a right angle as she looked up at him!
“Nice to meet you, Inspector. I’m Dr Amy Walsh.”
“Oh, pleased to meet you. What brings you here?”
“Ahem.” Dave made sure that the clearing of his throat was audibly heard by all. “If you don’t mind, Frank, Amy is my little sister. She’s just here visiting me.”
“Just visiting you!” Amy was still annoyed and had had enough of being subtle.
“Look, sis, if you’ll come with me, I’ve got your stuff in here.”
“What stu—” Dave put his arm round her shoulder and expertly spun her around and pulled her into the nearest door. It turned out to be an empty interview room and her brother slammed the door behind them. “What is your problem?” she asked, starting to get extremely irritated.
“You are, Amy. Do you know who that is?”
“Yeah, Detective Chief Inspector Frank Williams. He just said.”
“And where did he say he was from?”
“London. Though I must admit he sounds more like he’s from East London to me.”
“Never mind that. What do you think he’s doing here?”
“I assume he’s helping out.”
“Helping himself, more like.”
Amy gave her brother a curious look. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s allegedly been brought in because he’s a trained criminologist who’s got experience with serial killers.”
“And what do you think he’s here for if he’s not here to help catch Mad Jack?”
Dave groaned. ‘Mad Jack’ was the press’s cute little nickname for the bastard, a throwback to the infamous ripper, coupled with a recent pop culture icon. Dave gritted his teeth. “He’s trying to take the investigation away from me.”
Amy gave him a sceptical look. “You’re paranoid.”
“No, I’m realistic.”
Amy sighed and shook her head. “Whatever. I don’t care about what problems you have round here, just give me those case files.”
“I’ll get you them in a minute.”
“No, now!”
“You’re not my boss, Amy.”
“No, I’m a private consultant who has been brought in by your department to produce a psychological profile on a serial killer and in order to do that I need to know everything about the case.”
“I let you see the latest evidence firsthand, didn’t I?”
Amy could have sworn he almost smirked as he said that. “Oh yeah. Hilarious.”
“Well, haven’t you got enough information on what a sick bastard he is now?”
“Don’t act clever, Dave, it doesn’t suit you! You know bloody well that it doesn’t work like that.”
Dave snorted in an attempt to stop his anger boiling over. “Look, sis, I know you’ve got a degree in psychology and even a bloody PhD in this profiling thing but try and see it from my point of view. I’ve been a copper for over 10 years and I know how things are done. I don’t appreciate having an outsider come into my investigation and try to tell me how to catch criminals!”
“An outsider?”
“You know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. You don’t trust criminal profiling because you don’t understand it. Well, like it or not, Dave, your superiors think differently. Now get me those damn files or I’m taking it up with your super.” With that, Amy left the interview room with a slam of the door, leaving her brother to stand there to grind his teeth and clench his fists.