The Gilded Madonna by Garrick Jones (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📕

related second-hand, was verified to me by someone else as being accurately reported.”

Vince and Brendan raised their eyebrows or muttered sounds of surprise. Dioli was about to speak, but I didn’t give them the chance to ask about Allan and Max, the friends of Boyd and Neil, the men who’d been fortunate enough to get away, because I hadn’t finished what I was saying and I wanted to keep the identities of my informants at Craig’s baths secret if I could.

“Now you know Lola’s story,” I continued, “let me outline what I’ve learned from my confidential informants about the two lucky men who escaped, combine it with what our witness told us, together with what we know from the crime scenes, so that you understand why I think Louisiana Lola’s modus operandi is relevant to our Silent Cop killer.”

“But you said you know who he is?” Dioli looked puzzled. “You told us next door in the forensic department you know his name.”

“Yes, thanks to someone who provided me the information in this shorthand pad, which I’ve only just received, I do know the murderer’s birth name. But finding him is going to be the major problem because according to these notes, he’s been using a different alias since near the end of the war and we don’t know what it is … yet.”

Billy looked as if he was about to say something, but then changed his mind. If it had been important, I know he would have interrupted me.

“Are you positive this person is our killer?” Brendan asked.

“Absolutely, and I’ll explain why if you’ll just allow me to reveal what I know in a way that’s not too confusing. May I go on?” I asked and then continued when he gave me the go-ahead, albeit with a slight look of annoyance.

“So, in order to find our man, we need to know how he operates so we can catch him in the act, hopefully early next week at one of the two public toilets we’ve arranged to stay open. I’ve organised two specialist combat veterans at each to act as lures, and we’ll have teams ready to apprehend him the moment he makes a move that will allow us to place him under arrest. For without evidence of direct physical contact, or intent to commit grievous bodily harm, as Q.C. Tancred will tell you, any good lawyer will have the case thrown out of court in five minutes.”

“Very well, Miss Marple, please proceed,” Brendan said.

“That’s Agatha to you, D.I. Fox. Nothing fictional about me, not even the reported size of my dick.”

Everyone but Dioli laughed, but then when he realised everyone else saw I was joking he relaxed and smiled sheepishly. I’d noticed him scribbling furiously while I told the story of the American killer, and what had impressed me was the way he’d nodded while he was writing, as if he was making connections of his own. There was a good detective hiding away in there somewhere. I felt it my duty to help him find that person, even if he resented me for it.

“Very well,” I said. “Here’s what we know about the way our murderer operates. None of his victims look similar in terms of hair colour, facial structure, or physical build. Therefore he does not have a ‘type’. The way he selects his victims seems to be opportunistic. Like Lola, he feels guilty after having sex with men who he does not intend to murder …”

“He’s queer then?” Dioli asked.

“Most likely. What I have learned is that in his ‘normal’ life, he performs fellatio on men for money, but doesn’t seem interested in letting anyone else do it to him—only those he intends to kill. The same seems to go for more intimate play, kissing for example. He gets passionate with his victims, but is aloof with the men he services—enthusiastic while he’s doing it, but aloof, nonetheless. His sex life is compartmentalised. Allowing men to fellate him and kissing them is his foreplay, his lead up to murder. He’s also not known to engage in anal sex, except for when he’s about to—”

“Wait,” Dioli interrupted. “Don’t all—?”

“No. Homosexual acts do not always involve penetration. Not all heterosexual activities do either. It depends on the situation and the person. Somehow, our murderer has a sixth sense that tells him which of the men he picks up likes to be the passive partner in anal sex. Either that or he just out and out asks them. Who knows if there are others he’s tried it on earlier in the evening before he’s killed who don’t like to do something in public that’s so risky, or who merely don’t have penetration as part of their normal sexual activity.”

I continued. “He’s not unknown around the traps, and it was reported to me from several sources that he puts his hand out for payment in exchange for his mouth jobs. It’s to assuage his guilt, his feeling, like Lola’s, that he’s been bad. I was told by one man that he’d said something like, ‘the devil got in him while he was servicing men, and only the fact they paid him for what he did could drive the evil from his body afterwards’. That’s as close as I can get to the actual words I was told, but I believe they’re accurate enough. I didn’t take notes at the time.”

Mark Dioli cleared his throat and leafed back through his notepad. “I know I’m leaping forward, Smith, but from what I can deduce from what you’ve said, our man kills his victims because, like Lola, he’s using the victim as a symbolic substitute for someone who may have abused him, and he may have, like her, killed that person to stop the violence. It seems like he’s recreating that moment with random victims, like she did with the men she picked up in the bar and then took back to motel rooms.”

“Those are my thoughts too, D.S. Dioli,” I said and then