He addressed the left side of the hall, where Amaia and her colleagues were seated. “The vast size of the United States gives the murderer a large territory to operate in. You in the European Union have had open borders for a decade now, so you face a similar situation.
“This killer has no intention of getting caught. Notoriety doesn’t interest him. He has his reputation and social status already.”
Dupree paused and fixed his eyes on Amaia again. He grinned. “Like the devil himself, he gains his satisfaction and power from the fact that we don’t believe he exists.”
A stir went through the room.
Agent Emerson was staring at Amaia, but she kept her eyes on Dupree and pretended not to notice. Gertha was harder to ignore when she leaned over and whispered, “He is talking directly to you.”
Dupree surveyed his audience. “Homicide detectives have their methodologies. They’re trained to look for discrepancies that raise questions in the usual areas of inquiry: jealousy, sex, drugs, money, inheritances, who stands to benefit, the possibility of blackmail. But serial killers don’t fit the usual categories; their gratification is psychological. We have to understand how the killer rewards himself, so as to determine what needs he’s satisfying. This presentation and your next training exercises will focus on the identification of common elements and discrepancies related to victim types, apparent accidents, murder scenes, and missing-person cases. Above all, we consider elements that might suggest that an apparent suicide or accident is nothing of the kind. We may in fact be looking at a murder or even one in a series of murders.
“How do we study a serial killer who hides the evidence of his existence? How do we create databases with information unknown to us? How do we describe the behavior of a phantom, a hidden predator who is thrilled by the fact we don’t even know he exists?” He looked around, as if expecting someone to reply.
“Victimology,” Amaia breathed.
“Victimology,” declared Dupree. “The science founded upon studies not only of actual victims but also of suspected victims, as well as those who disappeared into thin air. In such cases, victim profiling is necessarily an abstract science, for our investigator’s intuition must tell us whether a victim does in fact exist. Analysts must keep in mind a wide range of variables, including physical characteristics, psychological factors, social position, and character traits. Clues could be suggested by character weaknesses, physical anomalies, or even unique physical features. We consider the family around him. If he has none, that’s significant as well. And, of course, illnesses and pathologies, medical treatments, and any available information concerning behavior, personality, tastes, and affinities. The work is grueling, certainly, but it’s necessary whenever a detective has even the slightest suspicion a victim may exist. It doesn’t matter whether there’s a body or not. Complicating the task even further is the fact that our memories are fallible, and we may overlook things. We must document each prospective case fully, watching for common characteristics or incongruities, clues that signal that a disappearance may in fact have been a murder.”
Dupree pressed a button on the lectern. A screen behind him on the stage lit up with the image of a handsome but extremely thin young man in a suit. The black-and-white photo looked like an old newspaper clipping.
“Back in the 1980s, the English researcher Noah Scott Sherrington of Scotland Yard began putting together a database of possible victims. He collected information about women, fugitives, missing persons, and runaways. You’ll get a copy of his case file after this presentation. The most striking aspect of his work was that Inspector Sherrington didn’t have a shred of evidence that these women were dead. Not a single body or body part or even any indication they might have been kidnapped.
“Sherrington was looking at an economically depressed coastal region where the weather was atrocious most of the year. London was a huge draw, compared to working in a local cannery if you were lucky enough to get a job. That’s why many young women left. Technicians and manual workers assigned to the area for short periods found the little ladies eager to leave for a better life in the big city.
“By setting up a database for those missing girls, Sherrington was able to draw up a map of the actions of a hypothetical predator. It took him years. He eliminated the names of women who had turned up elsewhere in the country. A clear profile of the typical victim emerged. His conclusions were specific and horrifying. Today, Inspector Sherrington is recognized the world over as a pioneer of victimology for his achievement of proving the existence of a previously unknown serial killer.
“Sherrington had so refined his work, he was virtually one hundred percent sure which women were runaways and which had been murdered. He achieved this without the support his work deserved.
“Using Sherrington’s research as a foundation, the police went to work with their usual methods, locating and reinterviewing witnesses, reconstructing the women’s movements, sifting through the case files and Sherrington’s profiles.”
Dupree paused. He gave Amaia a look so challenging that some in the hall turned to stare at her. “Following his instinct and based on his flawless investigation, Sherrington had eliminated all suspects but two. At the time he referred to this as ‘a hunch.’”
“‘A hunch,’” Amaia repeated under her breath. Now she understood the connection.
When the Judicial Police promoted her to assistant inspector only six months earlier, she’d inherited a cold case involving the disappearance of a young nurse trainee at a hospital who’d just started her assignment. Officers who interviewed her acquaintances there concluded her disappearance was voluntary, but the girl’s mother disagreed. She raised a racket with tearful television appearances and appeals for help made through the press. It was a difficult case; no one wanted anything to do with it.
Except Amaia. She reviewed every detail of the investigation and quickly focused her attention on a staff surgeon. He hadn’t even been considered as a possible suspect, though they’d interviewed him because the girl’s coworkers remembered seeing her with him. The doctor was eliminated as a suspect both because there was no evidence of a relationship and because he had a sterling reputation. He was from a Pamplona family of distinguished medical practitioners.
Amaia’s supervisor dismissed her suspicions out of hand. “I know the family. It’s unthinkable.” She didn’t bring up the subject again, but she shadowed the physician for weeks in her off-duty hours. He eventually led her to a secret apartment where he was keeping the young woman as his sex slave.
She wasn’t his first victim. His arrest resulted in the discovery of evidence implicating him in the disappearances of at least two others. In her case report, Amaia wasn’t able to specify the factors that had roused her suspicions. She wrote that she’d “had a hunch.”
Dupree surveyed the crowd. “Sherrington’s hunch obsessed him. He trailed those two suspects for weeks, first one and then the other. One wild, stormy night on his way home after monitoring one suspect, he stopped at a traffic light. The other suspect happened to cross the intersection in front of him. On an impulse, Sherrington followed. It was pure chance; the inspector had no idea the murderer was on his way to dispose of a victim. Sherrington’s profile lacked one vital detail: he hadn’t determined how the killer got rid of his victims’ bodies. A later review of the case notes revealed the brilliance of Sherrington’s conclusions. Unfortunately, no one supported his work or even paid any attention to it.