Cut You Dead (Dr. Samantha Willerby Mystery #4) - A J Waines Page 0,3
of having a go at profiling, but never believed I’d get the chance. Normally, you’d need a master’s in forensic psychology and two years’ experience to be taken seriously. But I knew that would have meant a complete change of direction in my career some time ago. I’d always thought it was too late. Claussen was dangling a very juicy carrot indeed!
I kept my face straight. I didn’t want to fall into a very large hole, then find myself immediately desperate to climb out of it. ‘What sort of links do you mean?’
‘We know that serial killers often display delusions of grandeur. It makes sense to bring in an expert who can skim the files and spot the signs. You’d be joining our Serious Crime Analysis Unit.’
3
‘Why now? Why for only two weeks?’ I asked.
Claussen scratched her ear in the way people do when they’re slightly embarrassed. ‘We get injections of funding from time to time. Small amounts usually, that have to be used within a certain timeframe.’ Her lips were thin and resumed the bitter expression around her mouth. ‘That’s all I can say.’
A thought occurred to me. ‘What about Dr Herts, the police psychiatrist I worked with last time? Isn’t he able to do this kind of work for you?’
She sniffed dismissively. ‘He’s busy,’ she said, offering no elaboration. I nodded knowingly. He’d always been ‘busy’, I recalled, even when assigned as the go-to psychologist in a case.
I let out an inconclusive sigh and sat back. This was a chance of a lifetime. To work, hands on, in an area I’d become more and more fascinated by. Instead of examining details of a crime scene for fingerprints, fibres or bloodstains, profilers searched for the ‘mind trace’ left behind by the perpetrator. A different way of looking for a killer. I’d be accessing a hidden trapdoor into the criminal mind.
Inside my head, I was dancing the cancan, but I kept my face like granite.
A shadow clouded her demeanour. ‘It’s not for the faint-hearted. You’ll be trawling through the minds of those who abduct, torture, rape and kill other human beings.’
I stiffened at her words.
She leant closer. ‘Are you sure you’re up to it?’
If it wasn’t a test to start with, it was now.
‘Yes, count me in,’ I said, before I had the chance to change my mind. ‘I’ll do it.’
She clapped her hands and another smile almost graced her lips. ‘You remember DCI Wilde from the Aiden Blake case?’
I dropped my eyes. Oh, no – the nervy, snappy officer who used to hang around the back of my chair in meetings, driving me mad.
‘I’m afraid he won’t be with us this time,’ she said.
I turned the puff of air escaping my lips into a cough. Thank goodness. I’d be working with someone new.
‘DI Jeremy Fenway will be working closely with you, instead.’
I almost flinched. This wasn’t what I wanted to hear. DI Fenway had also been involved with the Aiden Blake case and we’d ended up having what could only be described as a humdinger of a falling out. At first, he’d seemed like the one person on the team I could make a decent connection with: he had a soft-handed approach, was welcoming, warm even. But before long, he let himself down. Badly. Mainly due to poor judgement and downright impudence. Unfortunately, he’d never quite redeemed himself. If I was going to be working with him again, things were going to be awkward, to say the least.
I opened my mouth to protest, but the words stayed trapped inside my head. I nipped the skin on my neck; it was too late to back out.
‘That’s sorted then,’ she said, clasping her hands against her bosom. She looked like a tycoon who’d just landed a mind-blowing deal. ‘I’ll get all the paperwork over to St Luke’s right now.’ She turned to the printer beside the filing cabinet and scooped up three or four sheets of paper lying in the tray. She laid them on the desk in front of me and held up a pen.
I glanced down to discover the sheets already had my name printed on them. I felt a flush of heat in my cheeks. I see. She’d decided I was a shoe-in for this job before I’d even set foot in here. I managed to refrain from letting out an irritated tut and quickly scanned the forms.
‘Fee satisfactory?’ she added, hovering over me.
The fee was more than adequate, but I wasn’t going to admit it.