The Jigsaw Man by Paul Britton Read Free Book Online Page B

Caroline’s murder,’ I said. ‘If he’s your man, then I think you’re going to find knives, pornography and a lot of black magic paraphernalia … that sort of thing.’
    Baker hadn’t forgotten. ‘Listen, I’ve got another favour to ask. In the light of what you told me about the killer’s motivation, I want you to talk to some of the other lads, particularly the interviewing officers. I want you to help them understand what they’re dealing with.’
    ‘When did you have in mind?’
    ‘Now. That’s police work for you.’
    On the drive to Blackbird Lane Police Station, I kept asking myself why one of the most senior detectives in the county would come to a rather modestly placed psychologist and ask for help with interrogating a suspect? Interviewing is at the heart of what they do and my knowledge of their methods was slight.
    As I crawled through the roundabouts on the outskirts of Leicester, I began to think in terms of my clinical work. If I had Paul Bostock in my consulting room for assessment, the first task would be to take his history, and to do that I’d have to build a rapport with him. Not everyone wants to revisit their past and have their deepest secrets unlocked. Some fight against it or have totally blocked out the events at the heart of their problem. To overcome this requires a particular interview strategy that slowly draws back the veil.
    This is all I could offer the police, I thought, along with an understanding of the psychosexual functioning of the killer and the nature of his deviation and sexual fantasies.
    At the police station I was ushered into a large room in which half a dozen detectives sat casually, some with shirt sleeves rolled up, jackets slung on chairs and elbows resting on the table. I’d met some of them already but still felt self-conscious as Baker made the introductions and told me the boys were ‘eerily impressed’ by how accurate my description had been. There was no sense of me bruising any egos despite being an outsider. It said a lot for the admiration and respect they held for David Baker; if I was OK with him, I was OK with them.
    Everybody in the room was convinced that Bostock was their man, particularly following the search of his parents’ house. A collection of knives were found in his bedroom, displayed alongside other weapons such as swords, guns and kung fu stars. The walls were plastered with posters and drawings, some of which he’d done himself, which included black magic symbols and bondage scenes with topless women trussed up and being tortured. One of the symbols matched that found near to Caroline Osborne’s body. Detectives had also found a large number of violent comics and magazines.
    Baker explained to me the importance of tying up every loose-end. After so much work, they couldn’t afford to see a guilty man walk free at some later date because something had been overlooked or correct procedure hadn’t been followed. Equally, he said it was important that an innocent man was not tricked or pressurized into making a false admission.
    When it was my turn to talk, I began by describing the nature of sexual dysfunction and sexual deviation, much as I’d first explained it to Baker. I spoke about the patterns of how people develop, how they become who they are and the psychological defences they build to protect them from seeing themselves as they truly are.
    ‘Tell me about the early interviews,’ I asked.
    ‘Well, he’s not rolling over,’ said Detective Chief Inspector Ian Leacy in a gruff voice. ‘To begin with I couldn’t decide if he was a fucking moron or a genius. Now? Well, I don’t think he’s being deliberately uncooperative but whenever we get close to the big questions he clams up or says “No” or “I can’t remember.”’
    ‘What’s he like? How does he hold himself?’
    ‘He’s not cocky or aggressive, if that’s what you mean. He says he wants to help. He keeps asking about his mum and dad. To be