Like This, for Ever

24




‘NO LESS THAN five of the online nationals are running the vampire story, as well as several of the big regionals; we’ve had over a dozen requests for an interview from the media on this subject specifically and Bram Stoker’s Dracula is currently climbing up the Amazon chart,’ said Anderson as he and Dana approached the incident room. ‘My younger, hipper colleagues inform me that the social networking sites are talking about nothing else. Suddenly it’s cool to be undead.’

‘OK,’ said Dana, raising her voice to get the attention of the room and walking to the front. ‘I want to knock this vampire business on the head once and for all. Then at least we can say we considered it fully. I’ve asked Gayle to do some research on known cases of so-called vampirism. What have you got for us, Gayle?’

Gayle Mizon stood, brushed biscuit crumbs off her skirt and came to join Dana at the front. ‘Right, two cases this decade of note,’ she began. ‘Both in 2002. First, a young Scottish man, Allan Menzies, who became obsessed by vampires after seeing a film called Queen of the Damned.’

‘That the one based on an Anne Rice book?’ asked Tom Barrett. As heads turned to him, he shrugged. ‘I had a girlfriend who loved that sort of stuff,’ he said.

‘Yes, Queen of the Damned is a vampire story by the American author Anne Rice,’ said Mizon. ‘Anyway, Menzies killed his friend and buried him in woods near his home. At his trial, he claimed to be a real vampire and to have drunk the dead man’s blood.’

‘Trying for an insanity plea?’ asked Stenning.

Mizon nodded. ‘The jury thought so. He was given a life sentence and committed suicide in prison. The same year, a German couple, Manuela and Daniel Ruda, stabbed a man sixty-six times and drank his blood. They claimed to have been indoctrinated into a vampire cult while they were staying in England and had met several willing donors over the internet.’

‘You can get anything on eBay,’ muttered Barrett.

‘Thank you, Tom,’ said Dana.

Mizon glanced at her notes. ‘A few years earlier, in 1998, Joshua Rudiger in San Francisco claimed to be a two-thousand-year-old vampire,’ she said. ‘He ran around slashing the necks of homeless people. One woman died. He was diagnosed as psychotic, schizophrenic and bipolar.’

Richmond made a gesture with her hands to indicate extreme frustration. ‘Not a vampire,’ she said. ‘Just a very sick man with exotic fantasies. As was Menzies, if you ask me.’

She put a pen down noisily on the desk and addressed the group. ‘What we have to understand is that vampires are seen as immensely glamorous,’ she said. ‘If you go back to Bram Stoker’s book, the female vampires in Dracula’s castle are as intent on seducing Jonathan Harker as they are on killing him. At the moment, thanks to Stephanie Meyer and all the rest of them, the popularity of vampires is at an all-time high. They’re beautiful, sexual, incredibly powerful and immortal. It’s not surprising that seriously disturbed people latch on to them.’

‘Comments noted, Susan,’ said Dana. ‘Carry on, Gayle.’

‘In the 1940s, another Englishman, John Haigh, was arrested for the possible murder of a missing woman,’ said Mizon. ‘He confessed to killing six people and drinking their blood. ‘But nobody believed him. For one thing, no bodies. It was generally believed he was making it up to convince people he was insane and avoid the death penalty.’

‘Has anyone else noticed most of these bozos are British?’ asked Barrett.

‘Go on, Gayle,’ said Dana.

Mizon had been glancing nervously at Susan Richmond. ‘Well, to cut a long story short, I found just seven cases in over a century,’ she said. ‘In some, there is indication that blood was a sexual stimulus, but in only a couple is there real evidence that blood was drunk. Others seem to have been nothing more than violent crimes involving perpetrators fantasizing about vampires, and with all due respect, Ma’am, I might fantasize about being in a successful girl band. It doesn’t make me Cheryl Cole.’

Dana gave the banter a minute to run its course. ‘Any thoughts, Susan?’ she asked, turning to the profiler.

‘In the last twenty-four hours, I’ve read nothing to convince me that Renfield’s Syndrome is something to take seriously,’ said Richmond. ‘I think people want to believe in it, because it’s scary and sensational, and I think they’ve combed through the history of violent crime trying to find cases that fit. The fact that there are so few, and that most of those are pretty unconvincing, suggests to me they failed.’

‘OK, but some people are turned on by blood,’ said Anderson. ‘You have to admit that?’

‘Any number of offenders have been sexually stimulated by violence,’ replied the profiler. ‘Blood is usually an integral part of that. But here we have four cases of murder with no evidence of sexual abuse or violence. This is not about sex, it’s not about violence, and I’m not even sure it’s about blood.’

‘Well, let us know when you decide what it is about,’ said Anderson.

‘Neil—’

‘Actually, there is something else I want to ask Mrs Richmond,’ said Anderson.

The profiler looked at him, wary. ‘Of course,’ she said.

‘We’ve all been talking about the killer as though he’s a bloke. Tell me I’m away with the fairies, but is it possible it’s a woman?’

Dana saw Stenning give a sharp glance her way. Anderson kept his eyes firmly on the profiler. She looked back at him steadily.

‘No evidence of sexual abuse or violence,’ said Anderson. ‘When men kill kids, they don’t do it gently – not in my experience, anyway.’

Richmond was looking troubled. ‘Female serial killers are rare,’ she said.

‘But not unheard of,’ said Anderson. ‘Myra Hindley, Rose West and Beverley Allitt, all of whom killed children.’

‘Two of them didn’t act alone,’ said Richmond. ‘Both West and Hindley were luring victims for their partners. And sex was a motive.’

‘Not with Allitt, though,’ said Dana, thinking that if Anderson could go out on a limb for her, the least she could do was give him a bit of support. ‘Allitt’s motives were altogether more complex. With her it was all about the power, being needed, being important.’

‘There are plenty of precedents for women killing their own children,’ said Mizon. ‘Though that’s often a result of post-natal depression.’

‘What about a woman who’s lost her own child?’ said Dana. ‘I can soon produce a list of nine-, ten- and eleven-year-old boys who died in London in recent years.’ Very soon, actually – it had been sitting on her desk since noon the previous day. ‘Neil, do you want to take a look at it when it’s ready? See if anything stands out?’

Anderson nodded, not quite meeting her eye.

‘OK, thanks everyone. Neil, can I have a word, please?’

Anderson stood up, and followed Dana out of the room. She walked several yards down the corridor, then stopped and turned. He stopped, too.

‘Ma’am, it’s an idea and I thought it needed airing,’ he said. ‘If it turns out it’s a duff one, I’ll be the one to look daft and that’s never bothered me in the past.’

He was right, of course, she should have said something herself. She was just frightened of what it might have revealed about her.

She forced herself to smile. ‘And if it turns out to be spot on, you’ll share the glory?’

‘Nope. I’ll graciously accept my promotion to DI and then I won’t have to call you Ma’am any more.’

‘You don’t have to call me Ma’am now.’

‘We all need something to aspire to, Ma’am.’