Last Kiss

‘Sociopaths can demonstrate empathy? What makes you think our killer has empathy?’


‘If it’s the same killer, she left Pierre Laurent’s face completely unmarked.’

‘So?’

‘She couldn’t bring herself to damage it. Something stopped her. For whatever reason, it was out of bounds. Our killer cares, all right. She cares enough to ensure she leaves the scene exactly as she wants it to be. It’s her anger that demonstrates her hurt.’

‘A femme fatale.’

‘Your words, not mine.’ He hadn’t mentioned their conversation of the previous day. She reminded herself that she had asked him to give her more time. ‘But there’s something else.’

‘There usually is with you, Kate.’

His voice sounds so upbeat, she thought. Maybe work does make the man. ‘It’s about her level of detachment. Our killer needs to be of a particular mind-set to do what she does. Think of it as a bit like the way a surgeon operates.’

‘I’d hardly put a clinical operation to save someone’s life on the same level as chopping a guy up, then playing creative with the props.’

‘You’re right, but surgeons have to detach at some level to do their job. They need to focus on the task in hand to bring it to a successful conclusion, and they do so in a clinical manner. There is no place for emotion and doubt when a surgeon is operating. In many ways our killer is the same. The planning of the killing is on one level. The act of killing is then charged with emotion, but the aftermath is clinical, her mind switching from one mode to the next.’

‘You have to love the versatility of the female mind,’ he jested, again sounding far more energised than he had the day before.

‘It’s not a laughing matter.’ She heard the tetchiness in her voice.

‘No, it’s not, but it could be tricky down the line.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘A jury, despite their best intentions, tend to be biased, unwilling to believe a woman is capable of such things. I’ve been through enough cases to know how easily murder can become manslaughter, and a killer can walk.’

‘If this murder is linked conclusively to the European cases, I doubt self-defence or mental or physical abuse will sway anyone. Multiple killings rarely happen without premeditation.’

‘Maybe so. All I’m saying is that it can prove to be divisive when dealing with the fairer sex.’

‘Listen, I’ve got to go. I’m nearly at Ocean House.’

‘Before you hang up, there’s a couple of things you should know.’

‘What?’

‘Mark’s applied pressure to extend the size of the investigative team. He wants you at the midday incident-room briefing.’

‘And what if I’ve other plans?’

‘Kate, you know what the force is like. The case dictates everything. If you can’t make it, say so, but the chief super is expecting you.’

‘I’ll be there.’

‘Is your passport up to date?’

‘Why?’

‘He’s also talking about you going to Paris.’

‘For Christ’s sake …’

‘Don’t shoot me, I’m only the messenger.’

‘Well, tell Chief Superintendent Gary Egan and Mark Lynch I have a job and a life outside the force.’

‘They’ll be delighted to hear it.’





I


I WAS EIGHT years old when I first considered killing someone. Some years later, I confided this to a friend. She thought I was lying.

The desire to kill isn’t as strange as you might think. Circumstances may vary, but what matters is that, once you’ve reached that point, you’re aware of how easy it is. For me, it started with a need to rid the earth of a specific someone. I viewed my prospective victim, contemplating their death without one iota of guilt, and in some ways without anger. It wasn’t a cold feeling. Nor was it primed with passion. If anything, it was completely calm.

I had reached a decision, considered the means – it was that simple. In the end, I didn’t do it. Why? It wasn’t the right time. I was still a child, and it had logistical difficulties I wasn’t in a position to overcome. My eight-year-old self wouldn’t have been able to get away with it. If she had been, I have no doubt she would have done it. People underestimate the power of children, perceiving their vulnerability as weakness. Never miscalculate the rat trapped in a corner, irrespective of age or experience. And, like the rat, we’re all born with the survival instinct. Children are no different from their adult selves in that regard and, at times, more resolute.

Do you remember the road, the one in the woods that people can no longer see? That road remains steadfast in my mind. It is with me when I close my eyes to sleep and I see the myriad of evil faces. Do you believe in ghosts? I do.