A Date To Die For Page 4

  6

  'Thanks, we’ll see you there in about an hour.’ Tessa was ending a call when Joe and Paul returned.

  ‘That was the restaurant on the beach. The manager and two of the staff who worked last night will be there tonight. We can call by before we pick up my car.’

  Paul handed Tessa her coffee and blueberry muffin. ‘Is what happened last night related to the other murders?’

  Joe leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. ‘We think so.’ He nodded. ‘Pretty certain.’

  Paul sat on a spare chair near Tessa’s desk. ‘Any leads yet?’

  ‘No,’ Joe said. ‘We’ve got two or three suspects, but nothing concrete yet. The first victim, Amber—we’ve all but ruled out her flatmate, friends, and relatives. A jealous colleague is a contender, with a question mark. He has an alibi. We did some digging there but found nothing yet to reject it. And Amber’s manager, well—he’s married, and we suspect he may have been having an affair with her. Or trying to. He has no alibi, but we have no evidence either way, so…’ Joe shrugged. ‘Who knows?’

  ‘The second victim, Isabel—her ex-boyfriend is on our suspect list,’ Tessa said. ‘The background check on the primary suspects brought up one or two minor speeding and parking tickets. Nothing major.’

  ‘Our third victim.’ Joe walked to the board and pointed to Phoebe Duncan’s photo. ‘We know very little about Phoebe. It’s too soon. All we know is what we learned from her sister and her sister’s husband this afternoon. And what we saw this morning.’ Joe noticed Paul grimace and look away from the board.

  ‘Have you found any links between the victims?’ Paul asked.

  ‘No, but …’ Joe rubbed the back of his neck. ‘The white rose, the note, the similar physical characteristics of the victims … It’s not random. There has to be a link.’

  Paul nodded. ‘Agree. Any witnesses last night? Any clues about motive?’

  ‘We’ve ruled out robbery. Phoebe’s bag was still at the scene, and there didn’t appear to be anything missing out of it. A preliminary door-knock around the beach area has uncovered nothing so far,’ Joe said. ‘Based on the last report, nobody that the team has interviewed so far saw or heard anything unusual last night or early this morning. A helicopter and grid search of the beach and surrounding areas found nothing. We didn’t find the murder weapon.’ Joe pointed to the timeline on the board. ‘We have to move on this before there’s a fourth. Three months elapsed between Amber and Isabel, and two months between Isabel and Phoebe. The attack on Isabel was even more brutal than on Amber. He might be escalating.’

  ‘We know that’s what happens,’ Paul said. ‘The killer grows in confidence. Gets an insatiable taste for whatever sick pleasure he gets out of it—power, sexual gratification.’

  Joe returned to his desk. ‘Isabel was still a virgin, and there was no evidence that he raped Amber. We’ll have to wait for the medical examiner’s report to find out if he raped Phoebe.’

  Paul glanced at the photos briefly and turned away again. ‘Was there any sign of masturbation?’

  ‘Not that we found,’ Tessa said.

  ‘The attack looks angry, and the way he left the bodies—there’s no remorse,’ Paul said. ‘The killer isn’t thinking about the victim as an individual. He’s just thinking about the kill.’

  ‘If it’s anger,’ Tessa said. ‘Could the attacks be a spur of the moment? Something sets him off during the date, assuming it’s a date.’ Tessa shrugged. ‘But I’d say it’s definitely a date, judging by the “Meet me near the surf club—we’ll go for a walk before dinner,” text. And we know Amber left in a taxi to go on a date.’

  ‘The killer sent a text?’ Paul said. ‘So I assume you weren’t able to trace the number.’

  ‘We traced it, no problem,’ Tessa said. ‘It was a pre-paid mobile. And because the victims wouldn’t have recognised the mobile number, it was probably a blind date, possibly arranged on an online dating site. Online dating is trending upward. I know at least two married couples who met online.’

  ‘It’s hard to buy a prepaid without identification these days,’ Joe said. ‘We traced it to a first-year university student.’

  ‘I assume you’ve ruled out the student as the killer,’ Paul said. ‘Did he or she have a driver’s licence as proof of identity to buy the mobile?’

  Joe nodded.

  ‘So how did the killer end up with the mobile?’

  ‘She said he paid her to buy it. Imagine what an eighteen-year-old university student can do with five-hundred dollars.’

  ‘What did she say he looked like?’

  ‘He wore dark sunglasses and had a fake looking beard and moustache,’ Tessa said. ‘She said his jeans were frayed, but not in a fashionable way, more in an old, grubby way. He looked creepy, but she wasn’t going to let five hundred dollars get away. She thought there was something hinky about the deal. But …’ Tessa shrugged. ‘Well, student, five-hundred dollars. And they were in a busy Westfield shopping complex, so she didn’t feel threatened.’

  ‘Disguised himself behind fake facial hair,’ Paul said. ‘And no way to see the colour of his eyes behind the sunglasses. Did she notice the colour of his hair?’

  Joe shook his head. ‘He wore a cap, and she didn’t take that much notice.’

  ‘So, no way to match him with the suspects,’ Paul concluded. ‘He was wearing shabby jeans, but he could afford to throw away five-hundred dollars to get a pre-paid.’

  ‘Yep, it’s an easy guess he was disguised,’ Joe said. ‘Our killer is probably clean shaven and well dressed.’

  ‘Back to whether it could have been a spur-of-the-moment attack,’ Tessa said. ‘If the date doesn’t go as planned, does he become angry, go into a rage?’

  ‘No, I don’t think it’s spur-of-the-moment,’ Paul said. ‘He’s got away with it three times that we know of. He’s cold, calculating. He’s angry. But he can control his anger long enough to plan and engineer the time, the victim, and the setting. When you said about the dates not going as planned. I don’t think that would be the case. The dates will almost certainly go as planned. He plans down to the last meticulous detail. The planning—it’s foreplay for him. And the final release, the climax comes during the kill. That’s when his anger explodes, and he goes into a rage. That’s his climax.’ Paul looked at the photos, closed his eyes as he turned away again. ‘How many times did he stab Phoebe?’

  ‘We’re not sure yet,’ Joe said. ‘It looks like seven. The same as Amber and Isabel. We’ll know for sure when we get the medical report.’

  ‘As I said,’ Paul continued. ‘The anger explodes from him during the kill, but he still has control.’

  Joe studied his friend. Paul was in control. Not timid or shy now. There was no hesitation in his words. He didn’t run his fingers through his hair, the way he did when he’s nervous. The way he did in the coffee shop when he was talking about asking Trudi to marry him. Paul was confident in his own ability to read a crime scene, see the violence happening. The ability his years of experience had given him. But there was pain in Paul’s eyes. Joe knew Paul was not only reading the killer’s intent and emotions. He was also feeling the fear, terror and pain the victims suffered for who knows how long before their death.

  Paul was the most gentle and caring person Joe knew, apart from his father. Joe’s thoughts drifted to his father again. He thought about the times his father nursed injured animals back to health. And the tears that filled his father’s eyes when he couldn’t save an animal. Was it the memory of his father’s gentleness that drew Joe to Paul? Was gentleness the foundation of his friendship with Paul? Was it the gentleness he sees in Olivia’s eyes that draws him to her?

  ‘He stabs them seven times, not six times or eight times. Why?’ Paul said, bringing Joe back to the present.

  Tessa shrugged. ‘Seven. Everybody’s favourite number.’

  Paul’s turn to shrug. ‘You’re right. Not everything a killer does has premeditated intent. Any other similar cases elsewhere?’

  ‘A search of our databases found nothing here or in any other state,’ Tessa said. ‘And nothing that links our victims to each other or any other victims.’

  ‘What about work, social, Facebook?’ Paul asked.

  ‘Isabel was at university full time, studying veterinary science,’ Joe said. ‘So, there’s no work connection there. Amber was a compliance analyst, studied law part time but at a different university from Isabel. No work connections, no university connections, and it appears no social connections.’

  ‘It’s possible Amber and Isabel were just practice runs,’ Tessa said. ‘And Phoebe was the actual target. Or Amber, the first victim was the target, and he got a taste for the kill and kept going, selecting victims at random. Or is there a connection between Amber, Isabel, and Phoebe and we just need to dig deeper?’ Tessa paused, shook her head. ‘Or there’s no connection. And we’re going around in circles.’

  ‘He maybe selecting victims that resemble somebody he knows,’ Paul said. ‘Like Bundy did.’ Paul huffed and shook his head. ‘I just did the very thing that makes me angry. Just like everyone does, I used Bundy as the serial killer benchmark.’

  ‘Are you talking about Zac Efron or Mark Harmon?’ Tessa smirked. ‘Hollywood certainly has glorified serial killers.’

  ‘Especially Bundy. Because he was handsome and charming,’ Joe said. ‘A charismatic psychopath. Or was he a narcissist?’

  ‘I’ll settle for just plain evil,’ Paul said.

  Joe walked back to the board. ‘He left the same note pinned to Phoebe that he left pinned to Amber and Isabel. Trust no
t too much to appearances. The beauty hides the thorns. Obviously a message. But who for?’

  ‘He met both Amber and Isabel near the surf club, maybe lured them into his car, and then… well, we know the rest,’ Tessa said. ‘He took Amber and Isabel to the National Park. The question is, why did he take Phoebe to the beach, breaking the pattern? Not that two makes a pattern, but… maybe there is no pattern. Maybe there’s no connection. Maybe he selects the victims randomly. Shit, maybe, maybe, maybe …’

  ‘No maybes.’ Joe stood in front of the board with his hands on his hips. ‘There is a connection between the victims.’ He inhaled deeply and breathed out slowly. In a calmer voice he said, ‘And we’ll find it. Hopefully, we’ll know more when we examine Phoebe’s background.’

  ‘This is what we think we know about him so far.’ Joe pointed to each of the photos. ‘The major stab wounds were on the left side of the bodies. So we think he’s right-handed. But so is ninety percent of the population.’

  Joe continued. ‘There were no wounds in the back. And the bruising pattern on the necks shows he choked them front on. He wants to watch the fear on their faces.’

  ‘Yeah,’ Paul said with a hard edge to his voice. ‘And he wants to watch their last moments as the life fades from their eyes.’

  Paul spoke quietly, but Joe sensed the anger and rage in his voice.

  Tessa stood and walked to the board. ‘Based on the age of the victims and assuming they were on a date with him, we estimate he’s in his late twenties, early thirties, possibly late thirties.’

  ‘Late twenties to mid-thirties would fit the serial killer stereotype,’ Paul said. He looked briefly at the photos again. ‘What about the rose? That has to be a message.’

  ‘Agree.’ Joe returned to his desk. ‘Based on Google articles, roses are ancient—they’ve been around for about thirty-five million years. And the oldest living rose is about one thousand years. The history’s probably not relevant. But the colour, white, I think that’s key. The white rose traditionally symbolises love, innocence, and purity,’ Joe said. ‘And some sources say it can symbolise new beginnings.’

  ‘I know we’ve been over and over this,’ Tessa said. ‘But the way he left the bodies—in an obscene pose. That’s in direct contrast to what the white rose symbolises.’

  ‘And I think this is where the note comes into play.’ Joe handed a copy to Paul.

  There was nothing distinguishing about the note. It was computer generated, so there were no handwriting clues. The font was Calibri, size fourteen, italics, with expanded spacing between the letters. There were four lines on the note, each of them centre aligned, and each line started with an uppercase letter. The first line was ‘Trust not too much.’ The second line read ‘To appearances.’ The third line ‘The beauty,’ and the fourth ‘Hides the thorns.’

  ‘There are no fingerprints on the note,’ Joe said. ‘The killer isn’t dumb enough to leave prints. Which doesn’t necessarily mean he’s a genius.’

  ‘But he’s smart,’ Paul said. ‘So, do you have any theories about the note? Agree, it’s a message. But what does it mean?’

  ‘The first bit, Trust not too much to appearances, is a quote from Virgil.’

  Paul frowned. ‘Virgil Donati. The drummer?’

  ‘I admire your knowledge of Australian music,’ Joe said. ‘But no—not Donati. Virgil. The ancient Roman poet.’

  Joe looked at the note again. ‘Trust not too much to appearances. Is he saying these women appeared to be pure and innocent? But in his mind, they weren’t. Or maybe it’s not about them specifically. Do they symbolise somebody whose appearances deceived him—somebody who betrayed him?’

  ‘What about the second part of the note?’ Paul asked.

  ‘The beauty hides the thorns. I don’t think this is a quote from anyone famous. I’ve Googled it, checked with my mother and her other teacher friends. I’m pretty sure it’s the killer’s own words. So what’s he telling us? Maybe something beautiful is hiding something evil on the inside.’

  ‘He hid the thorns inside their vaginas.’ Tessa studied the photos on the board. ‘Is he saying that part of the woman’s body is the beautiful part of a woman?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Paul said. ‘Or maybe the woman’s entire body is hiding the thorn—hiding an evil soul. This could tie in with the new-beginnings symbolism. Maybe by killing them he’s giving them a chance at a new beginning. A chance for an existence of innocence and purity.’

  ‘The obscene pose symbolises their existence when they’re alive and the rose their new beginnings in death,’ Tessa said.

  ‘Or should we not trust the appearance of the body or the rose? Maybe none of it means anything. The only reality is the first part of the note,’ Joe said. ‘Trust not too much to appearances.’

  ‘Are we dealing with extremist religious motives?’ Tessa said. ‘But if he’s a religious nut, wouldn’t he be leaving Bible quotes?’

  ‘The rose might be the religious connection. New Testament. Mary is often linked with the white rose. Maybe that’s why he’s hiding the thorns. He might be making a garland of roses, like a string of rosary beads,’ Joe said. ‘And he’s adding to the garland with each victim. Which means there’s no end in sight for him.’

  ‘Or his motive might be as simple as revenge?’ Paul said.

  ‘Or a combination of religion and vengeance,’ Joe said. ‘We’re going around in circles, again. But what we know for sure is we have to stop this psychopath before he kills again. Time is not on our side. It’s not a matter of if he kills again, it’s a matter of when.’

  7

  Joe and Tessa left the station around five-thirty and headed to the Sandpiper restaurant at the beach before picking up Tessa’s car. It was early, and a Monday evening, so there were only a few patrons and cars at the restaurant. Joe didn’t have to drive too far from the restaurant to find a park away from the ever-present danger of cars with careless drivers and passengers who didn’t care about denting other cars when they opened their doors.

  Joe and Tessa walked up the wooden ramp that led to the restaurant which had the words Sandpiper Restaurant and the outline of a bird etched on the glass door. Inside, six couples and two tables of four clinked glasses and solved the problems of the world over plates of prawns, scallops, and other assortments of seafood in a restaurant that holds fifty diners on a busy night.

  After interviewing the staff and the manager, Joe and Tessa took the names and contact numbers of the other staff and details of the contactable patrons who dined at the restaurant the previous night. The manager confirmed that most of the patrons were walk-ins, which was usual for a Sunday night. Only one of the staff, a waiter, noticed anything unusual the night before. He saw a young woman waiting outside the restaurant entry for about five minutes. He described her as blonde and petite.

  ‘Is this her?’ Tessa handed him a photograph of Phoebe that her sister, Sally had given them.

  ‘Could be her. She had her back to me, so I’m not sure if I’d recognise her.’ The waiter handed the photo back to Tessa. ‘I can’t say it wasn’t her. She was there when I went down to the cellar to get a bottle of Moët champagne for a couple celebrating their wedding anniversary. I noticed she was still there when I came out of the cellar.’

  ‘What time was this?’ Joe asked.

  ‘Around seven-thirty. When I saw her the second time, I think she was sending a text message. And then she left.’

  ‘Did you notice which way she went?’ Tessa asked.

  ‘No, it was dark outside, and I really wasn’t taking any notice. I was concentrating on not falling up the stairs and dropping the champagne.’

  ‘Did you see anybody else by themselves, a man?’ Joe asked.

  ‘No, nobody. Just the blonde chick.’

  Joe handed the waiter a card. ‘Okay, thanks. Contact us if you think of anything else.’

  Joe and Tessa walked towards the door.

  ‘Hang on,’ the waiter called after them. ‘I just thought of something. I’m not sure if it has anything to do with it.’

  ‘Anything you can tell us. The smallest detail might be relevant,’ Joe said.