"See what I mean about being- slow on the uptake? I had access to all the same information as you, and Michael never even crossed my mind as a possibility."
"Not so surprising. You know him well enough to know he's not a psychopath."
Carol shrugged.
"Do I, though? It wouldn't be the first time a close family member, a wife even, has made the same mistake."
"Usually, they're either deluding themselves or they're emotionally unstable and dependent on the killer in some way. Neither of which would have applied in this case." He gave a tired smile.
"Anyway, tell me about what your Michael uncovered."
"The computer was a total gold mine She'd kept her own diary of the stalking and the murders. It even says that she wanted it published after her death. Can you beat that?"
"Easily," Tony said.
"Remind me to show you some of the academic papers I've got on the subject of serial killers."
Carol shivered.
"Thanks, but no thanks. I got a printout of the diary for you. I figured you'd be interested." She gestured to the envelope.
"It's in there. Also, as you'd surmised, she had video-taped the killings, and as I suggested, she'd imported them into her computer and manipulated the images to keep the fantasy alive. It was absolutely gruesome. Tony. It went way beyond nightmare."
Tony nodded.
"I won't say you get used to it, because you never do if you're going to be any use at this job. But you do get to the stage where you can lock it away, so it doesn't jump out and wreck your head unawares."
"Oh, yeah?"
"That's the theory. Ask me again in a few weeks," he said grimly.
"Was there anything in there about how she chose her victims?"
"Just a fucking bit," Carol said bitterly.
"She'd been at this for months before she even picked out the first victim. She worked for the phone company, a computer systems manager. Apparently, she used to work for a small private phone company back in Seaford, which gave her the experience to get the job in Bradfield. She was what they call a super-user of the computer system, so she had access to every piece of data in there. She used the phone company's computer to extract all the residential numbers who had made regular calls to sex chat lines in the past year." Carol paused, letting the obvious question hang in the air.
"It was research," Tony said wearily.
"I published a paper on the role of chat lines in the development of fantasies among serial offenders. Someone should have told Angelica not to jump to conclusions."
Reading his remark as a veiled reproach, Carol moved on.
"She cross-referenced that against the electoral roll and came up with men who lived alone. Then she just checked them out by watching their houses. She had a clear picture of the physical type she wanted, and she wanted one with his own house, a decent income and good career prospects. Can you believe it?"
"Only too well," Tony said grimly.
"Her rationale was that she never wanted to kill them, she only wanted to love them. But they made her murder because they betrayed her. She kept telling herself that what she really wanted was a man who would love her and live with her."
Don't we all, Carol thought but didn't say.
"Anyway, once she'd decided on the likely candidate, she paved the way with the dirty phone calls. She got them on the hook that way, on account of all you sleazy men can't resist anonymous sex."
"Ouch," Tony said, wincing.
"In my defence, I'd have to say that a large part of my interest was purely academic. I was interested in the psychology of a woman who would do what she did on the phone."
Carol smiled tightly.
"At least I know now that you were telling the truth when you said you didn't know the woman who was leaving the sexy messages on your answering machine."
Tony looked away.
"And the discovery that a man you were attracted to was getting his rocks off in kinky telephone sex with a stranger must have been delightful for you."
Carol was silent, unsure what to say.
"I've heard the tapes now," she admitted.
"Yours are very different from the others. You were clearly uncomfortable a lot of the time. Not that it's any of my business."
Still unable to meet her eyes. Tony spoke, his voice clipped and clinical.
"I have a problem with sex. To be precise, I have problems with achieving and maintaining an erection. The honest truth is that only part of me was treating