Bear in mind that her hair might be dyed, so don’t rule out other colours. Caroline Brant and Margaret Smith both dyed their hair. What you’re looking for is a natural brunette. She’ll be a career woman, educated to university level. This is a high-risk target for our unsub.’
‘Why take that risk?’ Hatcher asked. ‘If this guy’s whole game is to make these women suffer, why not kidnap a prostitute or a junkie?’
‘Because that’s not his whole game. These women represent someone significant to him. His ex-wife, would be my initial guess. Whoever the real target is, she’s the one he really wants to hurt, but he doesn’t have the courage to do that yet. He’s scared of her. Absolutely terrified. That makes him angry, and he takes that anger out on his victims.’
‘So, he’s just practising with these other women, working up the courage to go after his ex.’
‘Pretty much,’ I agreed. ‘You need to get your people to look at every missing person report for the last three days. All of them. I’m particularly interested in anyone reported missing over the last twenty-four hours. If I’m right about the way this unsub is escalating then that’s where we’ll find our next victim.’
‘So you think he’s already snatched someone?’
‘Without a doubt.’
‘What sort of area are we looking at?’
‘Everything north of the Thames.’
Hatcher took a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a reaction that was perfectly understandable since I’d just narrowed the search down to an area of hundreds of square miles and a population in the millions.
‘It gets worse,’ I added. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if he starts targeting victims outside of London. That stunt with the car park security light in St Albans shows he’s looking for ways to mislead us. From here on we need to assume he’ll send us on a wild goose chase at every opportunity. That said, let’s start with the area inside the M25 first. If we don’t get any hits there we’ll widen the search to take in the Home Counties.’
‘I’ll get right on to it,’ said Hatcher.
‘I’m going to need to see photographs ASAP. Send them to my cellphone.’
‘No problem. So when can I expect a full profile?’
‘I’ll have something for you by the end of the day.’
I hung up, put my coat on, stuffed my cigarettes and Zippo into a pocket, then headed downstairs. An unmarked BMW was waiting outside and I had to smile when I saw the driver. I stepped from the Cosmopolitan’s revolving door and walked over to the car.
‘Morning, Templeton.’
‘Morning, Winter.’
Templeton was leaning against the BMW dressed in a thick padded coat. Her jeans were so tight they clung to her legs like a second skin, and her blonde hair was scraped back in a ponytail. If anything, the daylight made her eyes appear even more spectacular. The way she was leaning on the car, she could have been in an advert.
‘So you drew the short straw again,’ I said.
‘Believe it or not, I volunteered for this. I’m interested in seeing you work first-hand.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘You should be. Usually, I’d rather pull out my own wisdom teeth than play babysitter.’
We got into the car and buckled up. A rock channel kicked in when the key was turned, classic Aerosmith pumping from the speakers. Templeton leant over the dash and turned the volume down. The engine had heated up during the drive from New Scotland Yard and the heater was working overtime to keep the chill out.
‘You said babysitter rather than taxi driver,’ I said. ‘That means you’ve spoken to Hatcher.’
Templeton nodded. ‘He called five minutes ago. He said you hadn’t done the profile yet. He sounded pretty pissed off about it.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘He told me to keep an eye on you and report back on everything you get up to.’
‘Will you?’
‘That depends on what you get up to. So where do you want to go?’
‘Enfield. I want to
‘Why take that risk?’ Hatcher asked. ‘If this guy’s whole game is to make these women suffer, why not kidnap a prostitute or a junkie?’
‘Because that’s not his whole game. These women represent someone significant to him. His ex-wife, would be my initial guess. Whoever the real target is, she’s the one he really wants to hurt, but he doesn’t have the courage to do that yet. He’s scared of her. Absolutely terrified. That makes him angry, and he takes that anger out on his victims.’
‘So, he’s just practising with these other women, working up the courage to go after his ex.’
‘Pretty much,’ I agreed. ‘You need to get your people to look at every missing person report for the last three days. All of them. I’m particularly interested in anyone reported missing over the last twenty-four hours. If I’m right about the way this unsub is escalating then that’s where we’ll find our next victim.’
‘So you think he’s already snatched someone?’
‘Without a doubt.’
‘What sort of area are we looking at?’
‘Everything north of the Thames.’
Hatcher took a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a reaction that was perfectly understandable since I’d just narrowed the search down to an area of hundreds of square miles and a population in the millions.
‘It gets worse,’ I added. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if he starts targeting victims outside of London. That stunt with the car park security light in St Albans shows he’s looking for ways to mislead us. From here on we need to assume he’ll send us on a wild goose chase at every opportunity. That said, let’s start with the area inside the M25 first. If we don’t get any hits there we’ll widen the search to take in the Home Counties.’
‘I’ll get right on to it,’ said Hatcher.
‘I’m going to need to see photographs ASAP. Send them to my cellphone.’
‘No problem. So when can I expect a full profile?’
‘I’ll have something for you by the end of the day.’
I hung up, put my coat on, stuffed my cigarettes and Zippo into a pocket, then headed downstairs. An unmarked BMW was waiting outside and I had to smile when I saw the driver. I stepped from the Cosmopolitan’s revolving door and walked over to the car.
‘Morning, Templeton.’
‘Morning, Winter.’
Templeton was leaning against the BMW dressed in a thick padded coat. Her jeans were so tight they clung to her legs like a second skin, and her blonde hair was scraped back in a ponytail. If anything, the daylight made her eyes appear even more spectacular. The way she was leaning on the car, she could have been in an advert.
‘So you drew the short straw again,’ I said.
‘Believe it or not, I volunteered for this. I’m interested in seeing you work first-hand.’
‘I’m flattered.’
‘You should be. Usually, I’d rather pull out my own wisdom teeth than play babysitter.’
We got into the car and buckled up. A rock channel kicked in when the key was turned, classic Aerosmith pumping from the speakers. Templeton leant over the dash and turned the volume down. The engine had heated up during the drive from New Scotland Yard and the heater was working overtime to keep the chill out.
‘You said babysitter rather than taxi driver,’ I said. ‘That means you’ve spoken to Hatcher.’
Templeton nodded. ‘He called five minutes ago. He said you hadn’t done the profile yet. He sounded pretty pissed off about it.’
‘What else did he say?’
‘He told me to keep an eye on you and report back on everything you get up to.’
‘Will you?’
‘That depends on what you get up to. So where do you want to go?’
‘Enfield. I want to
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