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

held up the notebook I’d received from Dai, sent by Howard. “In here is the information we need about the man, his history, and the reason for his behaviour. We’re still in the dark as to why he’s targeted me, but at least let’s try to understand who he is, what drives him, and what’s caused him to become the twisted human being his actions suggest he’s become. Tom has been keeping a psychological profile on the killer for us, so I’ll hand the floor over to him while he explains it in a much more eloquent way than I’m sure I ever could, and I need a moment to go through some of this shorthand again, because I haven’t had enough time to do more than skim through parts of it.”

Tom had a natural flair for delivery, and, as I’d discovered since he’d started working for me and Harry, was fluent when reporting facts and eloquent along with it. As he spoke, he wrote down short sentences on the blackboard, each preceded by an asterisk.

“Let’s just recapitulate the salient points of what Clyde’s just told us and, if you don’t mind, I’ll add my own observations at the same time. The most important thing we’ve learned about the man is that he shows signs of extreme emotional disturbance, exhibited at times of social failure, or in moments of embarrassment. This occurs as childlike whines while pivoting on the spot, with one arm extended up and over the opposite shoulder, scratching at his spine—a recognised sign of extreme emotional stress. He’s also taken to jumping nervously from foot to foot when faced with a difficult choice. While these symptoms are indicative of a disturbed psyche, in my opinion the most telling feature of these behaviours is his ability to turn them off suddenly, with no warning and no transitional phase. He simply transitions from irrational to normal as if someone’s flicked a switch.”

I looked up from my notes and smiled at Harry, who seemed as pleased as Punch at Tom’s confident delivery.

“And this behaviour has been observed frequently?” Dioli asked.

“The whining and quick change on two occasions by the same reliable witness and then the twisting and anxiety on many occasions by more than one observer.”

Tom waited a moment for more questions, but then when none were forthcoming, continued.

“As Clyde explained earlier, the killer takes great pleasure and is proud of his ability to perform fellatio, and demonstrates a great deal of personal pleasure while he is doing it. He has both upper and lower dentures, which he removes beforehand, and because of this he’s very popular.”

I noticed Dioli shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Maybe something had hit a nerve, but he went back to notetaking while Tom continued.

“Under normal circumstances he’s only interested in performing oral sex, for which, as Clyde’s already told us, he hopes to be paid. As far as we know he’s never angry if he’s not given money, as long as he’s complimented. The only times he allows himself to be fellated is when the man is an intended victim. On the occasions he’s in the mood to kill—as we know at intervals of seven to eleven days—he always dresses in a unique manner. Fully clothed from the waist up, but without trousers or underwear. He seems to cover the top half either with a long jacket or an overcoat, but likes to open it to expose himself to possible victims when he first meets them. It seems part of his ritual.”

“Why would he do that?” Mark asked.

“He has a big cock and he likes to see the surprise on their faces, I suppose,” I said, glancing up briefly from what I’d been reading.

“However, something Clyde learned only recently is the only link we have between the murders in the toilets and the Bishop case,” Tom said.

Vince stared at me. I shook my head and then indicated he should wait until Tom explained.

“The murderer has a large shaggy dog, which he takes to parks with him on nights he is not going to commit a murder. He ties the dog up somewhere nearby while he services men.”

“Jesus!” Vince said. “So you think it’s the same dog that was seen just before Susan and David were taken outside the butcher?”

“We believe that if the man in the phone box could corroborate the description of the dog we know belongs to the killer to the one he saw, we might be able to hope the Bishop children are still alive, and safe and well.”

“How could you possibly know that, Tom?” Vince asked, amazed.

“That’s my story,” I said, “and it’s part of what I’m about to tell you, but I think I need a quick break before I explain why I believe it to be true and who the killer is, what turned him into a murderer and the connection between him, me, and Q.C. Billy Tancred.”

It was like a vaudeville act. Dioli, Vince, Jeff Ball, and Brendan all turning to look at Billy, disbelief in their eyes.

*****

Luka was sleeping soundly when I checked on him. I’d left the old lockup via the side door and had crossed the driveway to the forensics department. Jack was snoring softly in his armchair.

I ran my hand over Luka’s brow. “Sorry you had to go through that,” I whispered to him. Harry appeared through the door and kneeled behind me, folding his arms around me.

“Jeff’s got the copies of those two magazines that Green Eyes bought from Luka’s shop.”

“And?”

“I haven’t looked yet. He’s an extraordinary man, isn’t he,” he said, his head on my shoulder, our ears touching.

“Who, Luka?”

“Hm.”

“Him or Dai, which would it be?”

He didn’t answer but kissed my cheek. We hadn’t had that conversation yet, and I wasn’t really sure I was ready for it.

*****

“This photograph was delivered to me on the eleventh of December, the day I returned to the office after our trip to Melbourne,” I said, passing around a blown-up ten by eight to the others.