"It's hard to say. A few days, certainly. However, Handy Andy seems to work on an eight-week cycle, and there's no sign that he's accelerating. That's unusual in itself, by the way. Once I've studied the material I'll have a better idea of how in control he is, but I think we've probably got a bit of time to spare before he kills again. Having said that, he may well have already selected his next victim, so we've got to make sure that we keep any progress we make well away from the press. The last thing we want is to be the catalyst for him speeding up the process."
Carol groaned.
"Are you always this optimistic?"
"It goes with the territory. Oh, and one more thing? If you develop any suspects, I'd prefer not to know anything about them at this stage there's a danger that my subconscious will alter the profile accordingly."
Carol snorted.
"We should be so lucky."
That bad, is it? "
"Oh, we've pulled in anybody who's got form for indecent assault or violent of fences against gay men, but none of them looks even a remote possibility."
Tony pulled a sympathetic face then picked up the photographs of Adam Scott's corpse and slowly started going through them. He picked up a pen and moved his A4 pad nearer to him. He glanced up at Carol.
"Coffee?" he asked.
"I meant to ask earlier, but I was too interested in what we were talking about."
Carol felt like a co-conspirator. She had been enjoying their conversation too, in spite of a twinge of guilt that multiple murders shouldn't be a source of pleasure. Talking with Tony was like talking to an equal who had no axe to grind, whose primary concern was finding a path to the truth rather than a way to boost the ego. It was something she'd missed on this case so far. The too," she admitted. " I'm probably approaching the point where coffee is a necessity. Do you want me to go and fetch some? "
"Good God, no!" Tony laughed.
"That's not what you're here for. Wait there, I'll be right back. How do you take yours?"
"Black, no sugar. In an intravenous drip, preferably."
Tony took a large Thermos jug out of his filing cabinet and disappeared. He was back inside five minutes with two steaming mugs and the jug. He handed Carol a mug and gestured towards the Thermos.
"I filled it up. I figured we might be some time. Help yourself as and when."
Carol took a grateful sip.
"Will you marry me?" she asked, mock romantic.
Chapter 6
Tony laughed again, to cover the lurch of apprehension that shifted his stomach, a familiar response to even the most idle of flirtations.
"You won't be saying that in a few days' time," he said evasively, turning his attention back to the photographs.
"Victim number one. Adam Scott," he said softly, making a note on his pad. He went through the photographs one by one, then went back to the beginning. The first picture showed a city square, tall Georgian houses on one side, a modern office block on a second and a row of shops, bars and restaurants on the third. In the centre of the square was a public garden, crossed by two diagonal paths. In the middle was an ornate Victorian drinking fountain. The park was surrounded by a three feet high brick wall.
Along two sides of the garden was deep shrubbery. The ambience was slightly seedy, the stucco of the houses peeling in places. He imagined himself standing on the corner, taking in the view, smelling the humid city air mixed with the stink of stale alcohol and fast food, hearing the night sounds. The rev of engines, the sound of high heels on pavements, occasional laughs and cries borne on the wind, the twitter of starlings, conned out of sleep by the sodium light of streetlamps. Where did you stand, Andy? Where did you watch your ground from? What did you see? What did you hear? What did you feel?
Why here?
The second photograph showed a section of the wall and the shrubbery from the street side. The photograph was clear enough for Tony to make out the little iron squares on the top of the wall, which were all that remained of railings that had presumably been removed during the war to make guns and shells. A section of the bushes showed broken branches and crumpled leaves. The third shot showed the body of a man, face