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    The Mermaids Singing
    The Mermaids Singing
    The Mermaids Singing
    Ebook460 pages7 hours

    The Mermaids Singing

    By Val McDermid

    4/5

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    This was the summer he discovered what he wanted--at a gruesome museum of criminology far off the beaten track of more timid tourists. Visions of torture inspired his fantasies like a muse. It would prove so terribly fulfilling.

    The bodies of four men have been discovered in the town of Bradfield. Enlisted to investigate is criminal psychologist Tony Hill. Even for a seasoned professional, the series of mutilation sex murders is unlike anything he's encountered before. But profiling the psychopath is not beyond him. Hill's own past has made him the perfect man to comprehend the killer's motives. It's also made him the perfect victim.

    A game has begun for the hunter and the hunted. But as Hill confronts his own hidden demons, he must also come face-to-face with an evil so profound he may not have the courage--or the power--to stop it...

    The Mermaids Singing is a chilling and taut psychological mystery from Val McDermid.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherMacmillan Publishers
    Release dateApr 1, 2007
    ISBN9781429977661
    Author

    Val McDermid

    Val McDermid is a No.1 bestseller whose novels have been translated into more than thirty languages, and have sold more than sixteen million copies. She has won many awards internationally, including the CWA Gold Dagger for best crime novel of the year. She was inducted into the ITV3 Crime Thriller Awards Hall of Fame in 2009, was the recipient of the CWA Cartier Diamond Dagger in 2010. Val writes full time and lives in Edinburgh and the East Neuk of Fife.

    Read more from Val Mc Dermid

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    Reviews for The Mermaids Singing

    4/5

    42 ratings38 reviews

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    • 3/5
      A holiday read. I've previously read the next book in this series, so no surprises on who is going to survive and who is not. Again, my own fault, this. As well as the next, I liked the book, Somewhat introductory regarding the main characters, but not too much to be a sole introduction. Quite graphic on the torture description, sometimes even too much so, and coming from me thatt's a lot! I find the subject interesting as such, but the way the delight on others' suffering is described is somewhat disturbing. References to computers date the book quite a bit. All in all, a good read.
    • 4/5
      The fact that I watched the TV show first obviously affected my experience of this book. As I expected, the book has far more details, but it is hard to avoid a comparison. And, of course, I already knew the solution. That said, I still enjoyed it, and I especially liked the much clearer picture I got of Tony Hill in this book.
    • 5/5
      Protagonist: forensic psychologist Tony Hill and DI Carol JordanSetting: present-day "Bradfield" in northern EnglandSeries: #1First Line: "Tony Hill tucked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling."By the time the police admit that Bradfield, a fictional city in northernEngland, has a serial killer, four men are already dead, each tortured in a different way and then abandoned outdoors in town. Baffled by a lack of physical evidence left by the meticulous sociopath, police bring in Tony Hill, a Home Office forensic psychologist who profiles criminals. Tony devours crime data with a fascination approaching admiration for the killer. DI Carol Jordan is Hill's liaison with the police force, and is a solid "normal" foil that keeps quirky Tony grounded. The books in this series are the basis for UK series "The Wire in the Blood". I enjoyed the printed page much more than watching Robson Green on the small screen. Although I twigged to the killer early on, this book was still a page-turner. From Kate Brannigan to Tony Hill to her meticulously crafted standalones, I relish McDermid's writing and love experiencing her continuing evolution.
    • 3/5
      The Mermaids Singing
      3.5 Stars

      Synopsis
      After the mutilated bodies of 4 men are discovered in Bradfield, the police are finally forced to admit that a serial killer is on the loose, and enlist the help of criminal psychologist Tony Hill. Haunted by demons of his own, Tony works with DI Carol Jordon to profile a killer who has just made Tony the latest target...

      Review

      Disclaimer: This book is the first in a series which forms the basis for the BBC show Wire in the Blood. As a fan of the series, I was glad to see that the producers did an excellent job in re-creating 90% of McDermid's characters and plot. However, my overall reading experience may have been influenced by the fact that I knew all the twists and turns ahead of time.

      That said, the plot of The Mermaids Singing is clever and well written. The events are told from multiple perspectives - Tony, Carol as well as the killer and others. Each of the characters, both primary and secondary, are intriguing and well-developed, and the revelation of the killer's identity and motivation is original and interesting. It is important to note that the book contains graphic descriptions of torture and mutilation so it is not for those who are turned off by blood and gore.

      Personally, the only scene that had me almost jettisoning the book is the near torture of the German Shepherd, as I have absolutely no tolerance for animal abuse. Thankfully, the act itself does not occur so I could move forward (very pleased this was taken out of the show).

      Tony is a compelling character, damaged and tortured in his own way, and trying to cope with his inner demons. He comes across as more eccentric in the series than in the book, an interpretation that I prefer. Carol is also a likeable character coping with the inevitable boys club in the police.

      While the book is entertaining, I won't be continuing with the series as I've seen the TV show, and I know what is to come. Reading the book does make me want to watch the show again though.
    • 4/5
      The Mermaids Singing is the first in Val McDermid’s Tony Hill & Carol Jordan series. It is a taught, well-written psychological thriller, which was actually turned into an excellent British crime drama in 2002. I highly recommend McDermid’s series to fans of exceptional crime fiction.
    • 1/5
      The first in a series and I honestly don't know how McDermid ever became as wildly successful as she did. I do understand now why it was so difficult to find a copy. This is the first time I have ever had to skip an entire section of a book because I couldn't stomach the subject and the absolute lack of need to go to such ridiculous lengths with it. The only reason I continued past the first few pages was the challenge of determining what Hill's "secret" was and that he might indeed be an intriguing character. What I found as the book wore on, and I do mean "wore", was that the character of DI Golden actually became much more interesting than finding out what Hill's dirty little secret was. By the end, there was no surprise as to whom the villian turned out to be, only that if further installments of these characters are anywhere as disgusting as this initial attempt, it was too bad they weren't all taken out. This one goes to the rubbish bin.
    • 4/5
      If your only exposure to Tony Hill and Carol Jordan is through "Wire in the Blood," you should take the time to read the books from which the series was created. The characters, including the various murderers, are far more complex and nuanced than is possible to show on TV. The violence and sex is more explicit but the depth of character development makes the journey worth it.
    • 5/5
      I started this series out of order with Fever Of The Bone, and liked it so much I decided to start at the beginning. The Mermaids Singing is a great police procedural that introduces the two main characters Tony Hill and Carol Jordan, who team up in 9 books so far.This book is very detailed and extremely graphic from the point of view of the serial killer. Is graphic descriptions of torture is problematic you might want to skip this book. Otherwise the gathering of clues and the eventual reveal of who the killer is was done very well.
    • 2/5
      So many things annoyed me here! The leads are bland, there are a bunch of tedious torture scenes, the female journalist gets her tips by sleeping with sources, unpleasant stereotypes of gay men abound, and there's the horrid evil transperson trope.McDermid makes a number of references to The Silence of the Lambs, which is really unfortunate because they only reminded me how much better Silence is.
    • 3/5
      Clinical Psychologist Dr. Tony Hall is brought in by police to profile a nasty serial killer with a penchant for medieval torture devices. I'm not particularly squeamish, but this got a bit too gruesome at times, even for me. I can only assume that McDermid thought long and hard to come up with the most nauseating modus operandi imaginable, and really successfully too. My big problem is that I don't quite believe in Tony Hall. Not that he's impossible, but he has rather a few too many quirks to be completely plausible. And, of course, Carol Jordan's reactions to him get unrealistic as well. I'm guessing they get better as the series goes on. Although I wasn't entirely convinced by the characters, the mystery is solid, the stakes high, and the writing high quality, so I'll definitely be reading other McDermid books.Since reading this, I've seen Robson Green's take on Tony Hill in Wire in the Blood and he's quite convincing. Strange as that sounds (especially on a site like LT...), I think I would have accepted Hill better had I seen the TV series first.
    • 4/5
      This was a well written mystery with a great cast of characters that was gripping from the opening line. The chapters alternate between the point of view of the killer and the official investigation which keeps the pages turning until the very end. Even though the murders scenes were very graphic, I do look forward to reading the 2nd book in this series.
    • 3/5
      Good but not great. Although there were many factors against the book as I read it. Well, one large one. I had already read a later book in this series and it gave away just enough details for it to make it much simpler for me to guess the criminal players in the book. I found the murderer very early - although I still very much enjoyed the ride of the writing until the end - so that is definately a plus in the author's favor. A serial killer is seeming to kill gay men in a ritualistic and tortured way. The police decide to bring in a profiler to help them track the killer down - thus launching the continuing partnership of Carol Jordan and Dr. Tony Hill.
    • 4/5
      This is the first in the Tony Hill series and a good psychological thriller. Gripping stuff - a good read.Back Cover Blurb:Up till now, the only serial killers Tony Hill had encountered were safely behind bars. This one's different - this one's on the loose.In the northern town of Bradfield four men have been found mutilated and tortured. Fear grips the city: no man feels safe.Clinical psychologist Tony Hill is brought in to profile the killer. A man with more than enough sexual problems of his own, Tony himself becomes the unsuspecting target in a battle of wits and wills where he has to use every ounce of his professional skill and personal nerve to survive.
    • 4/5
      Interesting serial killer story. Tony Hill is a psychologist working for the home office and being brought into a serial killer mystery. Along with Detective Inspector Carol Jordan they race to find the killer.It's gruesome but I did enjoy it. It kept me wondering throughout what was happening and what would happen next. There were parts that did drag on and also parts that could have done with tighter editing along with mixed up timeline situations that did confuse me a little but still not a bad read.
    • 4/5
      I suspect McDermid has been influenced by Thomas Harris but she reworks the formula and avoids making her serial killer into a 'bogey man' like Hannibal Lecter. Lecter is a force and not a real being. The killer in Mermaids is a real person and the novel is scarier as a result. An enormously enjoyable read as a clinical psychologist Tony Hill - who has his own problems - matches wits with a very sick and intelligent killer.
    • 4/5
      This is another book I read AFTER seeing the TV series (Wire In The Blood) and so I already had a picture in my mind about the main characters (Notably Dr. Tony Hill). The book in itself was very interesting and different to most others in this genre as it bared all of the information from showing the two perspectives of both the murderer (through diary entries at the end of each chapter) and the investigative team through the main chapters.As well as gaining an insight into the killers mind, you also witness the progression of the investigation and learned to understand and anticipate the next moves - with the final chapter still managing to come as a somewhat surprise. Although at times I found the violence outlined within the murderers diary entries unnecessarily gruesome and descriptive, I still felt it was done in relation to the extreme murders.Throughout the book there are also intertwining story lines and personal accounts from the personal troubles of Dr. Tony Hill to the journalists problems of constantly needing a story. As well as this, the book highlighted an important outside issue - the need for criminal profilers within the police force.
    • 3/5
      I came to this one after reading the most recent book in the series, and I was disappointed. It was a slog, and frankly, overly creepy, which I suppose was to make it more popular. The author really seemed to be finding her way with this one. I found it repetitive, and was disappointed the book seemed to go out of its way to make the two main characters odd and unsympathetic, and their relationship the same. I didn't buy the setup where Jordan was supposed to be so instantly attracted to Hill, nor his impotence, nor really any of that early relationship.It's interesting to me that the series gets so much better later when she grows more comfortable with her characters, and can speak about them almost in shorthand. For a book that's supposed to revolve around a police-profiler relationship, the author seems unsure how to write about human relationships. I would advise skipping this one, and instead reading her later work, which is so much better.
    • 5/5
      This is my first Val McDermid book.Profiler Tony Hill and police detective Carol Jordan work together on a series of murders where the victims seem to be gay and the murders involve torture with sexual overtones. The book’s point of view alternates between Tony Hill, Carol Jordan and the killer. The latter point of view is in the form of a diary and I liked the way the description of each murder always lagged behind the description of the discovery of its victim.The book is very well written and the serial killer is really a very scary character. The torture scenes are detailed and extremely gruesome; I did find these rather uncomfortable reading. In the background the book is much about how Tony Hill needs to sell psychological profiling to a sceptical police force and the internal politics of that force. There is a nice twist towards the end although it’s clear from early on who the serial killer’s next target is.This really is an excellent book and I found it all the more gripping as I haven’t seen the TV series.
    • 4/5
      So different from the TV show (which is awesome)- the "hero" is an amazingly messed up individual - nothing compared to the villain tho.
    • 3/5
      This book was somewhat of a disappointment. I'm not keen on torture which was a major theme of the book and although the characters were well developed, they were predictable to the point that I'd figured out who the murderer was in the first 100 pages (and I'm usually totally clueless!). I'm surprised this book got an award - it must have been a slow year.
    • 4/5
      Nice twist! Solid thriller with McDermid's trademark humanity.
    • 3/5
      I don't like books whose titles have no discernible connection to the book. Why? Because I cannot believe it! And that leaves me to think I missed some key piece.I bought this book because of McDermid's book, _Forensics_. I read reviews about _Mermais_ on Amazon, so I was not shocked at the graphic descriptions. It reminded me of reading _The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich_...the juvenile feeling of titillation reading of the Nazi experiments that happened in the camps. Or, more to the point, reading graphic descriptions of the bizarre Christian (Christian?) Inquisition. Only we don't call it that. We distance ourselves from it by calling it the "Spanish Inquisition."Oh well, I thought I had found a new series to read. This is the first in the Tony Hill, Carol Jordon series.
    • 5/5
      I remember reading and enjoying this book when it was first published twenty years ago, but I had forgotten quite how good it was. I would, however, probably not have thought to re-read it if I had not had a recent exchange on Twitter with Val Mcdermid herself.This is the first instalment of the series featuring Inspector Carol Jordan and Dr Tony Hill that now extends to several volumes and spawned the television series 'Wire in the Blood'. As is so often the case, the television version sells the books rather short, with a prurient emphasis on the sordid and sensational aspects to the detriment of the well-crafted plots and finely-drawn characters.This book opens with the police in Bradfield struggling to find new leads in their investigation of some particularly vicious murders in which the victims had not merely been killed but appeared to have been tortured at length beforehand. Opinion within the police is divided as to whether the murders are the work of one serial killer or separate, unrelated perpetrators. Detective Inspector Carol Jordan is convinced that there is a serial killer at work, but has hitherto been unable to convince her boss, Superintendent Cross who is a traditional old school copper. It is also clear that Cross feels that, as the victims have been known participants in Bradfield's vibrant gay scene, they have been more or less asking for it, and he barely avoids using the term 'contributory negligence'. Fortunately, Assistant Chief Constable Brandon is more modern in his approach, and he invites Dr Tony Hill, a practising psychiatrist who has been working with the Home Office to develop a national profiling task force, to help the investigation.Tony Hill is not without his own demons, but he quickly establishes his bone fides with Carol Jordan and the rest of her team with some astute observations about the murders. In the meantime, the police stage an undercover operation with various officers staking out some of the clubs around Bradfield in the hope of flushing out the killer. One of the police officers is attacked, and then another body is found …Val Mcdermid manages the plot brilliantly, allowing the tension to mount quickly without compromising the plausibility of the story. The relationships between Hill and Jordan and the different strands of opinion within the police are all eminently credible.
    • 4/5
      I have been wanting to read this series since I saw The Wire in the Blood series on television, so I was excited to finally get to it. I am not sure how to review this book and even more unsure how to rate it. Ms. McDermid's writing skills are excellent. That is why she's won so many mystery writers awards, but perhaps, in this case, her skills are just too good. I found the contents of this book disturbing and upsetting. Her villain in this book is probably one of the worst fictional villains I've ever encountered. Ms. McDermid describes in graphic detail the horrendous crimes that this particular serial killer commits.I enjoy criminal profiler Tony Hill and his DI partner, Carol Jordan. They make a very effective crime fighting team. Ms. McDermid spares no punches either as she describes their weaknesses and insecurities just as clearly as she does their positive character traits. This makes them both very human. But I found that I had a great deal of difficulty getting through some of the graphic crime depictions, and I must admit, I even skipped over some of the descriptions in the book which come from the point of view of the perpetrator. And again I have to admit, that the book caused me one or two sleepless nights. It's that scary! Will I read more in this series? At this point I don't know. Tony Hill is brilliant! Carol Jordan is wonderful character, but it frightens me to think of the other sick villains that I saw in the television depicted in print. I will say that the television series was not nearly as graphic as the book. Of course they couldn't put that kind of depravity in full technicolour in a television series. And Robson Green as Tony Hill! Well, let me tell you, that was great casting on the part of the producers of this series.
    • 3/5
      Very gruesome to the point of being hard to listen to.
    • 5/5
      From the beginning it’s clear that this is a gritty, fast paced novel which will involve fully drawn and vulnerable characters, graphic descriptions of torture and a focus on the psychological elements of police procedure involved in solving the crime.The initial chapter is narrated by a murderer who explains their fascination with torture devices and describes murder as a ‘strange and exotic drama’. The detachment of the narrator is chilling as they claim that they were compelled to commit murder the first time, but soon afterwards began thinking about how they could do it better next time. The quotations at the beginning of each chapter reinforce this idea of murder as a type of art that can be worked on. The intelligence of the murderer is clear through their language and grammar; their cruelty is even clearer as they admire the minds of those who perfected torture devices.Throughout the novel, the narrative shifts between this first person narrative and the third person narrative following the pursuit of this murderer. Intriguingly, the first person texts are clearly some kind of record of events, and although in this first narrative passage the murderer only really refers to this first murder, in the first real chapter we learn that three men are already dead. As the novel develops this time difference allows the reader to anticipate learning more about the terrible murders – each man was tortured and mutilated before being dumped, naked, in well-known gay cruising areas. This is not a novel for those with a sensitive stomach, but details are not gratuitous.Tony Hill is the next character that we meet and he seems incredibly uncomfortable in his own skin, choosing which persona to try on in the morning. Gradually more characters are introduced from the police force, all of whom are involved in trying to solve the individual murders without admitting that there is a serial killer on the loose. Not everyone is happy with this situation and McDermid establishes a lot of tension between the law enforcement officials which is only escalated when Tony is taken as an official Psychological Profiler to help them catch this killer.Characters’ motives and lives are skillfully drawn out, with just the right amount of information given to allow the reader to follow the twists and turns of the plot. A possible love interest is established early on, but Tony has some serious sexual hang-ups which create difficulties here, and the investigation quickly takes a very serious tone when the next victim turns out to be a little too familiar…This is an effective psychological thriller which will keep you wondering until the end as the police have very few leads, just an increasingly detailed psychological profile, and the killer seems capable of extreme manipulation. The interest of this novel lies in the relationships between characters and developments in the plot, but is primarily in Tony’s interpretation of the evidence. It is genuinely gripping: I read the whole novel in two days.There is also an implied criticism of police procedure in the story of the treatment of one suspect. The development of this situation gives the novel a greater level of depth and led to a truly disturbing event which reverberated in the novel and in my mind long after I’d finished reading.This novel won the 1995 CWA Gold Dagger Award for Best Crime Novel of the Year and is the start of a series of novels following Tony Hill’s work as a clinical psychologist. The front cover of my edition includes a quotation from Minette Walters, another excellent psychological crime writer, which effectively sums up the novel: ‘compelling and shocking’.
    • 5/5
      This book is one of a series of books by Val McDermid about the neurotic, socially inept but brilliant criminal profiler, Tony Hill, and assertive, maverick detective Carol Jordan, and the odd, dependent relationship that develops between them as they solve crimes together. This story (the first in the series), revolves around a series of killings in the town of Bradfield. Tony is brought in to help catch the killer via profiling, and Carol is eventually won over. As always, there is a good cast of supporting characters, all of whom are realistically multi-faceted and interesting.
    • 4/5
      After finishing Mapp and Lucia a while back, I felt in need of murder and mayhem. I can't say I've ever felt that before; I don't remember ever hating one book's characters enough to want to go read graphic descriptions of a serial killer's work. Although the demographic being murdered in The Mermaids Singing was completely different from that I had a wished death on in M&L, it still hit the spot.That sounds a bit twisted, doesn't it… It hit the spot surprisingly well, in fact. Maybe I've watched too much "Criminal Minds" and "Walking Dead" and so on over the years (and Wire in the Blood); maybe I've become jaded. Because this was beyond all doubt graphic. I usually do avoid this subsection of the genre, but back when Netflix still included streaming video with all subscriptions I stumbled on and became a huge fan of "The Wire in the Blood", and being as this is what that was based on, I wanted more of Tony Hill and Carol Jordan. And that's exactly what I got. As it turns out, the first episode of the TV series was a remarkably faithful adaptation of this first book. Happily, I saw it long enough ago that details had faded, and my memory is bad enough that the end wasn't spoiled. This isn't one of the sporting class of murder mysteries, where the clues are planted throughout the story for the clever and attentive reader to pick up and put together. This is pure procedural, with the coppers both dreading and hoping for the next victim of the serial killer on the loose: dreading, for obvious reasons, and anticipating in hopes that with a new body will come more data toward finding the killer. Intercut with the personal and professional lives of Tony Hill and Carol Jordan and their colleagues are journal entries from the killer, shadowing the timeline without giving away any real detail about the killer except how contact was made with the victims.But it all really comes down to those two, Tony Hill and Carol Jordan. They're terrific characters. I don't know that I'm quite jaded enough to pursue the book series - but it's good to know it's out there.
    • 5/5
      I was wrong. Mostly wrong anyway. About who the killer was. I got part of it right. And I'm unsure if I remembered it from the tv series Wire in the Blood (which I miss horribly since I no longer have BBC America--damn Cablevision!). Excellent book. Except for that issue at the beginning with the fourth body--I still maintain Tony should have seen what had been done to him at the crime scene. But I was able to overlook it. I'm now addicted to Val McDermid (I've started the next Hill/Jordan book already). I do keep picturing the actors from the tv show as the characters, but I'm okay with that. The changes they made for the tv show are interesting though, and the characters are obviously a lot more complex in the book. John Connolly said recently in his blog that the problem with buying new books is that the room he has to keep books doesn't expand and that it's like his books breed. I see this happening with Val McDermid's books (and Connolly's for that matter). There are so many!
    • 5/5
      If you are looking for a gritty, dark, disturbing murder mystery, then look no further. From beginning to end, the action is non-stop. I was amazed how the BBC series Wire in the Blood brings to life the book. And Robson Green is Tony Hill.

    Book preview

    The Mermaids Singing - Val McDermid

    1

    Gentlemen, I have had the honour to be appointed by your committee to the trying task of reading the Williams’ Lecture on Murder, considered as one of the Fine Arts; a task which might be easy enough three or four centuries ago, when the art was little understood, and few great models had been exhibited; but in this age, when masterpieces of excellence have been executed by professional men, it must be evident, that in the style of criticism applied to them, the public will look for something of a corresponding improvement.

    Tony Hill tucked his hands behind his head and stared up at the ceiling. There was a fine web of cracks around the elaborate plaster rose which surrounded the light fitting, but he was oblivious to it. The faint light of dawn tinged with the orange of sodium streetlamps filtered in through a triangular gap at the top of his curtains, but he had no interest in that either. Subconsciously, he registered the central-heating boiler kicking in, readying itself to take the edge off the damp winter chill that seeped in round door and window frames. His nose was cold, his eyes gritty. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a straight night’s sleep. His concerns about what he had to get through that day was part of the reason for the night’s interrupted dreams, but there was more than that. Much more.

    As if today wasn’t more than enough to worry about. He knew what was expected of him, but delivering it was another story. Other people managed these things with nothing more than a short-lived flutter in the stomach, but not Tony. It required all his resources to maintain the façade he’d need to get through the day. In circumstances like these, he understood how much it took out of method actors to produce the fraught, driven performances that captivated their audiences. By tonight, he’d be good for nothing except another vain attempt at eight hours’ sleep.

    He shifted in bed, pulling one hand out and running it through his short dark hair. He scratched the stubble on his chin and sighed. He knew what he wanted to do today, but equally, he was well aware it would be professional suicide if he did. It didn’t matter that he knew there was a serial killer loose in Bradfield. He couldn’t afford to be the one to say it first. His stomach clenched on emptiness and he winced. With a sigh, he pushed the duvet back and got out of bed, shaking his legs to unfurl the concertina folds of his baggy pyjamas.

    Tony trudged off to the bathroom and snapped on the light. As he emptied his bladder, he reached out with his free hand and switched on the radio. Bradfield Sound’s traffic announcer was revealing the morning’s projected bottlenecks with a cheerfulness that no motorist could have equalled without large doses of Prozac. Thankful that he wouldn’t be driving that morning, Tony turned to the sink.

    He gazed into his deep-set blue eyes, still bleary with sleep. Whoever said the eyes were mirrors of the soul was a true bullshit merchant, he thought ironically. Probably just as well, or he wouldn’t have an intact mirror in the house. He undid the top button of his pyjama jacket and opened the bathroom cabinet, reaching out for the shaving foam. The tremor he spotted in his hand stopped him short. Angrily, he slid the door shut with a loud crack and reached up for his electric razor. He hated the shave it produced, never leaving him with the fresh, clean feeling that came from a wet shave. But better to feel vaguely scruffy than to turn up looking like a walking illustration of the death of a thousand cuts.

    The other disadvantage of the electric razor was that he didn’t have to concentrate so hard on what he was doing, leaving his mind free to range over the day ahead. Sometimes it was tempting to imagine that everybody was like him, getting up each morning and selecting a persona for the day. But he had learned over years of exploring other people’s minds that it wasn’t so. For most people, the available selection was severely limited. Some people would doubtless be grateful for the choices that knowledge, skill and necessity had brought Tony. He wasn’t one of them.

    As he switched off the razor, he heard the frantic chords that preceded every news summary on Bradfield Sound. With a sense of foreboding, he turned to face the radio, tense and alert as a middle-distance runner waiting for the starting pistol. At the end of the five-minute bulletin, he sighed with relief and pushed open the shower curtain. He’d expected a revelation that would have been impossible for him to ignore. But so far, the body count was still three.

    On the other side of the city, John Brandon, Bradfield Metropolitan Police’s Assistant Chief Constable (Crime) stooped over the washbasin and stared glumly into the bathroom mirror. Not even the shaving soap covering his face like a Santa Claus beard could give him an air of benevolence. If he hadn’t chosen the police, he’d have been an ideal candidate for a career as a funeral director. He was two inches over six feet, slim to the point of skinny, with deep-set dark eyes and prematurely steel-grey hair. Even when he smiled, his long face managed to sustain an air of melancholy. Today, he thought, he looked like a bloodhound with a head cold. At least there was good reason for his misery. He was about to pursue a course of action that would be as popular with his Chief Constable as a priest in an Orange Lodge.

    Brandon sighed deeply, spattering the mirror with foam. Derek Armthwaite, his Chief, had the burning blue eyes of a visionary, but there was nothing revolutionary in what they saw. He was a man who thought the Old Testament a more appropriate handbook for police officers than the Police And Criminal Evidence Act. He believed most modern police methods were not only ineffective but also heretical. In Derek Armthwaite’s frequently aired opinion, bringing back the birch and the cat-o’-nine-tails would be far more effective in reducing crime figures than any number of social workers, sociologists and psychologists. If he’d had any idea of what Brandon had planned for that morning, he’d have had him transferred to Traffic, the present-day equivalent of Jonah being swallowed by a whale.

    Before his depression could overwhelm his resolve, Brandon was startled by a banging on the bathroom door. Dad? his elder daughter shouted. You going to be much longer?

    Brandon snatched up his razor, dunked it in the basin and scraped it down one cheek before replying. Five minutes, Karen, he called. Sorry, love. In a house with three teenagers and only one bathroom, there was seldom much opportunity for brooding.

    Carol Jordan dumped her half-drunk coffee on the side of the washbasin and stumbled into the shower, nearly tripping headlong over the black cat that wound himself round her ankles. In a minute, Nelson, she muttered as she closed the door on his interrogative miaow. And don’t waken Michael.

    Carol had imagined that promotion to detective inspector and the concomitant departure from the shift rota would have granted her the regular eight hours’ sleep a night that had been her constant craving since the first week she joined the force. Just her luck that the promotion had coincided with what her team were privately calling the Queer Killings. However much Superintendent Tom Cross might bluster to the press and in the squad room that there were no forensic connections between the killings, and nothing to suggest the presence of a serial killer in Bradfield, the murder teams thought differently.

    As the hot water cascaded over Carol, turning her blonde hair mouse, she thought, not for the first time, that Cross’s attitude, like that of the Chief Constable, served his prejudices rather than the community. The longer he denied that there was a serial killer attacking men whose respectable façade hid a secret gay life, the more gay men would die. If you couldn’t get them off the streets any longer by arresting them, let a killer remove them. It didn’t much matter whether he did it by murder or by fear.

    It was a policy that made a nonsense of all the hours she and her colleagues were putting in on the investigation. Not to mention the hundreds of thousands of pounds of taxpayers’ money that these enquiries were costing, particularly since Cross insisted each killing be treated as an entirely separate entity. Every time one of the three teams came up with some detail that seemed to link the killings, Tom Cross dismissed it with five points of dissimilarity. It didn’t matter that each time the links were different and the dissimilarities the same tired quintet. Cross was the boss. And the DCI had opted out of the strife completely, taking sick leave with his opportunistic bad back.

    Carol rubbed the shampoo to a rich lather and felt herself gradually wake under the warm spray. Well, her corner of the investigation wasn’t going to run aground on the rock of Popeye Cross’s bigoted prejudice. Even if some of her junior officers were inclined to grasp at the boss’s tunnel vision as an excuse for their own uninspired investigations, she wasn’t going to stand for anything less than one hundred per cent committed action, and in the right direction. She’d worked her socks off for the best part of nine years, first to get a good degree and then to justify her place on the promotion fast track. She didn’t intend her career to hit the buffers just because she’d made the mistake of opting for a force run by Neanderthals.

    Her mind made up, Carol stepped out of the shower, shoulders straight, a defiant glint in her green eyes. Come on, Nelson, she said, shrugging into her dressing gown and scooping up the muscular bundle of black fur. Let’s hit the red meat, boy.

    common

    Tony studied the overhead projection on the screen behind him for a final five seconds. Since the majority of his audience had expressed their lack of commitment to his lecture by pointedly not taking notes, he wanted at least to give their subconscious minds the maximum opportunity to absorb his flow chart of the criminal profile generating process.

    He turned back to his audience. I don’t have to tell you what you already know. Profilers don’t catch criminals. It’s bobbies that do that. He smiled at his audience of senior police officers and Home Office officials, inviting them to share his self-deprecation. A few did, though most remained stony faced, heads on one side.

    However he dressed it up, Tony knew he couldn’t convince the bulk of the senior police officers that he wasn’t some out-of-touch university boffin there to tell them how to do their jobs. Stifling a sigh, he glanced at his notes and continued, aiming for as much eye contact as he could achieve, copying the casual body language of the successful stand-up comics he’d studied working the northern clubs. But sometimes we profilers see things differently, he said. "And that fresh perspective can make all the difference. Dead men do tell tales, and the ones they tell profilers are not the same as the ones they tell police officers.

    An example. A body is found in bushes ten feet away from the road. A police officer will note that fact. He’ll check the ground all around for clues. Are there footprints? Has anything been discarded by the killer? Have any fibres been snagged on the bushes? But for me, that single fact is only the starting point for speculations that, taken in conjunction with all the other information at my disposal, may well lead me to useful conclusions about the killer. I’ll ask myself, was the body deliberately placed there? Or was the killer too knackered to carry it further? Was he hiding it or dumping it? Did he want it to be found? How long did he expect or want it to stay hidden? What is the significance of this site for him? Tony lifted his shoulders and held out his hands in an open, questioning gesture. The audience looked on, unmoved. God, how many tricks of the trade was he going to have to pull out of the hat before he got a response? The prickle of sweat along the back of his neck was becoming a trickle, sliding down between his skin and his shirt collar. It was an uncomfortable sensation that reminded him of who he really was behind the mask he’d assumed for his public appearance.

    Tony cleared his throat, focused on what he was projecting rather than what he was feeling, and continued. "Profiling is just another tool that can help investigating officers to narrow the focus of their investigation. Our job is to make sense of the bizarre. We can’t give you an offender’s name, address and phone number. But what we can do is point you in the direction of the kind of person who has committed a crime with particular characteristics. Sometimes we can indicate the area where he might live, the kind of work we’d expect him to do.

    I know that some of you have questioned the necessity for setting up a National Criminal Profiling Task Force. You’re not alone. The civil libertarians are screaming about it too. At last, Tony thought with profound relief. Smiles and nods from the audience. It had taken him forty minutes to get there, but he’d finally cracked their composure. It didn’t mean he could relax, but it eased his discomfort. After all, he went on, we’re not like the Americans. We don’t have serial killers lurking round every corner. We still have a society where more than ninety per cent of murders are committed by family members or people known to the victims. He was really taking them with him now. Several pairs of legs and arms uncrossed, neat as a practised drill-hall routine.

    But profiling isn’t just about nailing the next Hannibal the Cannibal. It can be used in a wide variety of crimes. We’ve already had notable success in airport anti-hijacking measures, in catching drug couriers, poison-pen writers, blackmailers, serial rapists and arsonists. And just as importantly, profiling has been used very effectively to advise police officers on interview techniques for dealing with suspects in major crime enquiries. It’s not that your officers lack interviewing skills; it’s just that our clinical background means we have developed different approaches that can often be more productive than familiar techniques.

    Tony took a deep breath and leaned forward, gripping the edge of the lectern. His final paragraph had sounded good in front of the bathroom mirror. He prayed it would hit the right spot rather than stamp on people’s corns. My team and I are now one year into a two-year feasibility study on setting up the National Criminal Profiling Task Force. I’ve already delivered an interim report to the Home Office, who confirmed to me yesterday that they are committed to forming this task force as soon as my final report is delivered. Ladies and gentlemen, this revolution in crime fighting is going to happen. You’ve got a year to make sure it happens in a form that you feel comfortable with. My team and I have all got open minds. We’re all on the same side. We want to know what you think, because we want it to work. We want violent, serial offenders behind bars, just like you do. I believe you could use our help. I know we can use yours.

    Tony took a step backwards and savoured the applause, not because it was particularly enthusiastic, but because it signalled the end of the forty-five minutes he’d been dreading for weeks. Public speaking had always been firmly outside the boundaries of his comfort zone, so much so that he’d turned his back on an academic career after achieving his doctorate because he couldn’t face the constant spectre of the lecture theatre. The ability to perform was not a reason in itself for doing so. Somehow, spending his days poking around in the distorted recesses of the minds of the criminally insane was far less threatening.

    As the short-lived clapping died away, Tony’s Home Office minder bounced to his feet from his front-row chair. While Tony provoked a wary distrust in the police section of his audience, George Rasmussen generated more universal irritation than a flea bite. His eager smile revealed too many teeth and a disturbing resemblance to George Formby that was at odds with the seniority of his Civil Service post, the elegant cut of his grey pinstripe suit and the yammering bray of a public-school accent so exaggerated that Tony was convinced Rasmussen had really been educated in some inner-city comprehensive. Tony half listened as he shuffled his notes together and replaced his acetates in their folder. Grateful for fascinating insight, blah, blah . . . coffee and those absolutely delicious biscuits, blah, blah . . . opportunity for informal questions, blah, blah . . . remind you all submissions to Dr. Hill due by . . .

    The sound of shuffling feet drowned out the rest of Rasmussen’s spiel. When it came to a choice between a civil servant’s vote of thanks and a cup of coffee, it was no contest. Not even for the civil servants. Tony took a deep breath. Time to abandon the lecturer. Now he had to be the charming, well-informed colleague, eager to listen, to assimilate and to make his new contacts feel he was really on their side.

    John Brandon stood up and stepped aside to allow the other people in his row to move out of their seats. Watching Tony Hill’s performance hadn’t been as informative as he’d hoped. It had told him a lot about psychological profiling, but almost nothing about the man, except that he seemed self-assured without being arrogant. The last three quarters of an hour hadn’t made him any more certain that what he was planning was the right course of action. But he couldn’t see any alternative. Staying close to the wall, Brandon moved forward against the flow until he was level with Rasmussen. Seeing his audience vote with its feet, the civil servant had sharply wound up his speech and switched off his smile. As Rasmussen gathered up the papers he’d dumped on his seat, Brandon slipped past him and crossed the floor towards Tony, who was fastening the clasps on his battered Gladstone bag.

    Brandon cleared his throat and said, Dr. Hill? Tony looked up, polite enquiry on his face. Brandon swallowed his qualms and continued. We haven’t met before, but you’ve been working on my patch. I’m John Brandon . . .

    The ACC Crime? Tony interrupted, a smile reaching his eyes. He’d heard enough about John Brandon to know he was a man he wanted on his side. I’m delighted to meet you, Mr. Brandon, he said, injecting warmth into his voice.

    John. It’s John, Brandon said, more abruptly than he’d intended. He realized with a spurt of surprise that he was nervous. There was something about Tony Hill’s calm assurance that unsettled him. I wonder if we can have a word?

    Before Tony could reply, Rasmussen was between them. If you’d excuse me, he interjected without any note of humility, the smile back in place. Tony, if you’d just come through now to the coffee lounge, I know our friends in the police will be eager to chat to you on a more intimate basis. Mr. Brandon, if you’d like to follow us.

    Brandon could feel his hackles rising. He felt awkward enough about the situation without having to fight to keep their conversation confidential in a room full of coffee-swilling coppers and nosy Home Office mandarins. If I could just have a word with Dr. Hill in private?

    Tony glanced at Rasmussen, noting the slight deepening of the parallel lines between his eyebrows. Normally, it would have tickled him to wind up Rasmussen by continuing his conversation with Brandon. He always enjoyed pricking pomposity, reducing the self-important to impotent. But too much hung on the success of his encounters with other police officers today, so he decided to forego the pleasure. Instead, he turned pointedly away from Rasmussen and said, "John, are you driving back to Bradfield after

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