Ability to disconnect and compartmentalise events – high
Capable of establishing trust/building rapport
Ribbons/plaiting/positioning of body of personal relevance
Choice of victims based on physical and personality traits.
Stalks, and seeks relationship – murder may not be main motivation for subsequent killings.
Similarities in age and physical characteristics of victims – early basic pattern.
Selection of burial sites unlikely random – first site may be of greater significance.
***Likelihood of repeat killing – HIGH***
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The phone only rang twice before O’Connor picked up.
‘O’Connor, Kate here.’
‘Just about to phone you.’
‘The report’s ready.’
‘Good, Nolan’s been on my case.’
‘Can we meet? There are a couple of things I’d prefer to talk through with you face to face.’
‘Sure. Where?’
‘Near here, if possible.’
‘I could call up.’
‘No don’t do that. Charlie’s asleep. I’ll meet you in Slattery’s.’
‘Give me ten minutes.
Meadow View
HE FOUND THE HOUSE EASILY USING GOOGLE MAPS. He was already familiar with the street, having passed through it many times before. Research was vital. Getting to grips with the exterior, grounds front and back, connection and proximity to surrounding dwellings, streets and laneways, were all part of the preparation process. He was pleased the rear of the house had a large garden, with access to a laneway running along the back of the houses, and those opposite. Each house had a side entrance, connecting front and back of the property accessible at ground level. So much could be done from the comfort of your own home, and he wanted to get all the external factors about her location firmly in his mind before making his next move.
It was dark by the time he left Meadow View, but the darkness always pleased him. He loved the night, drifting through it, almost invisible in his black running gear, avoiding streetlights, slipping easily around corners, sliding from one street to the next. There was a special hum tonight, cars passing, making a swishing sound as their tyres embraced the damp tarmac, raised voices from a basement flat causing his head to turn, a cat rummaging in a bin. They all converged in the symmetry of the night. The roads became quieter as he neared her street. He moved with ease, having learned over time the art of being unseen.
The streetlights bounced off the wet concrete, showing the tentative beginnings of black ice. As a boy, he had found the dark to be an adventure, offering him insights into many things that daylight could not. He had a natural boyhood curiosity, often going from place to place unnoticed, well after he’d been sent upstairs. ‘Go along up, darling, and read some of your books’, ‘William, it’s time for you to go upstairs’, ‘Mommy is entertaining, run along now’. He was something to be dismissed, the list of prompts as endless as the nights. He didn’t mind going upstairs, preferring his room to spending time with her and whatever male companion she’d chosen to replace him. Most of them let him be, but those who didn’t, with their pathetic efforts at being friendly, irritated him more. When it came to the many male guests his mother entertained, he was well aware that neither they nor his mother wanted him as part of their enjoyment.
He was glad he’d decided to go out running. Running wasn’t normally one of his night-time pursuits, but he’d made an exception because of the necessary timing of events. When he left Meadow View, he did so with two destinations in mind, and neither had a lot to do with healthy exercise.
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