his girlfriend he was going on a lads' night out, but none of his male friends or colleagues seemed to know anything about it, and it is not clear whether he was abducted from his home or if the contact took place at a prearranged point. It may be that the killer has had prior arrangements to meet each of his victims, either at their homes or elsewhere. He may even be posing as an insurance salesman or something similar, though I feel it's unlikely that he would have the people skills to do such a job successfully for a living.
3. He likes the extra excitement that walking out on the high wire gives him. He needs that buzz.
4. He must have some areas of emotional maturity in his make-up that allow him to hold himself under control in these highly stressful situations. This may also allow him to buck the poor work-history pattern so common among serial offenders. (See below. ) Most serial of fences demonstrate a degree of escalation, indicating the killer's need for more thrills, better execution of his fantasies. Like a roller coaster, each high needs to be bigger to compensate for the inevitable low that has preceded . Tony looked up, startled. What was that noise? It had sounded like the door to the open-plan outer office, but at this time of night, there shouldn't be anyone on this floor. Nervously, he pushed himself away from the computer desk, steering his chair across the carpet on silent castors till he was behind his desk and out of the pool of light shed by the lamp beside the computer. He held his breath and listened. Silence. The tension gradually began to ooze away. Then, abruptly, a line of light appeared under his office door.
The metallic taste of fear gripped Tony. The nearest thing to an offensive weapon on his desk was a chunk of agate he used as a paperweight. He snatched it up and moved stealthily out of his chair.
When Carol opened the door, she was taken aback to find Tony halfway across the room, herring a rock in his hand.
"It's me," she yelped.
Tony's arms dropped to his side.
"Oh shit," he said.
Carol grinned.
"Who were you expecting? Burglars? Journalists? The bogeyman?"
Tony relaxed.
"I'm sorry," he said.
"You spend all day trying to get inside some nutter's head and you end up as paranoid as he is."
"Nutter," Carol mused.
"Now would that be some technical term you psychologists use?"
"Only inside these four walls," Tony said, walking back to his desk and putting the agate back where it belonged. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Since British Telecom don't seem to be able to connect us, I thought I'd better come round personally," Carol replied, pulling up a chair.
"I left a message on your machine at home this morning. I assumed you'd already left for work, but you weren't here either. I tried again around four, but there was no reply from your extension. At least, I assume that's why the switchboard operator said,
"I'm putting you through now," and I ended up in a black hole.
And, of course, now the switchboard have all gone home and I never thought to ask for your direct line. "
"And you a detective," Tony teased.
"That's my excuse, anyway. Actually, I couldn't face another minute in Scargill Street."
"Want to talk about it?"
"Only if I can talk with my mouth full," Carol said.
"I'm starving.
Chapter 15
Could you go a quick curry?"
Tony glanced at his computer screen, then back at Carol's drawn face and tired eyes. He liked her, even though he didn't want to get close, and he needed her on his side.
"Just let me save this file, and I'm out of here. I can come back later and finish this."
Twenty minutes later they were attacking onion bhajis and chicken pakora in an Asian cafe in Greenholm. The other customers were students and those of the terminally right-on tendency who hadn't quite adjusted to the fact they were no longer studying anything except political correctness.
"It's not exactly Good Food Guide, but it's cheap and cheerful, and the service is quick," Tony apologized.
"Fine by me. I'm more egg on toast than Egon Ronay. My brother got the gourmet genes in our family," Carol said. She glanced quickly around her. Their table for two was less than a foot away from the next.
"Did you bring me here deliberately so we couldn't talk about work? Some psychologist's ploy to refresh my mind?"
Tony's eyes widened.
"I didn't even think of that. You're right,