Dead silence. Hostile silence. Darby could hear the hum of the Coke machine in the lobby.

‘Okay, let’s get down to business,’ Chief Robinson said. ‘The mobile lab from the FBI’s Denver office had some sort of mechanical problem yesterday, so the evidence recovered from the Downes home was taken to Denver last night. Now, about what was found in the Downes house. Same setup as the others – family tied to chairs, male suffocated to death, the women strangled. Same duct tape and same plastic bindings. You’ll know the lab results when I do.’

Lancaster spoke up. ‘I’d like copies as well.’

The chief didn’t answer or acknowledge Lancaster. ‘The Bureau’s lab identified the type of knot the killer used,’ Robinson said. ‘I’ll let Agent Hoder explain while I pass these out.’ He started to hand out pictures from a file as Hoder folded his arms and rested them on the podium. It was easier and more comfortable to lean against it than to try to balance his weight on the cane.

‘It’s called a surgeon’s knot,’ Hoder said.

The seated men leaned forward to hear Hoder’s soft voice.

‘A surgeon’s knot is a figure-eight knot that’s generally used in sailing and rock climbing, which leads me to believe the Ripper may have experience in one or both of these areas. Maybe he took sailing lessons as a boy or spent part of his youth working on boats. Maybe his father or grandfather was a fisherman; you get the idea. The other possibility is he could simply be a knot fetishist. And, yes, such a thing exists.’

Timid laughter, but not from Lancaster. His gaze, Darby saw, kept jumping between her and Williams.

‘There are the usual internet forums where people who are into bondage and S & M discuss various knots and binding techniques,’ Hoder said. ‘There are also people, generally men, who are simply fascinated by knots. They get together and teach each other how to tie these sorts of complicated knots. These clubs, get-togethers, whatever you want to call them, are a relatively new phenomenon. As you can imagine, they don’t advertise in the Yellow Pages. They don’t want to attract any unwanted attention for obvious reasons, but a few do openly advertise on the internet. We should see if such a club is operating in or around Red Hill.’

Smart, Darby thought. Damn smart. She had heard about clubs that catered to knot fetishists, but she hadn’t stopped to consider that the Red Hill Ripper might be a member of one.

‘My computer people haven’t found a local club listed on the web,’ Hoder said. ‘They might have a website that can’t be accessed conventionally, one that’s in the Deep Web or the Darknet. Our tech guys are going to see what they can uncover. I won’t bore you with the technical details.’

‘Good,’ someone said.

Snorts and chuckles all around.

‘We’re looking for a white male in his late forties to early fifties,’ Hoder said. ‘He’s an introvert but not a loner. He’ll have a steady job and be married or in a long-term relationship. He’ll have a normal sexual relationship with his wife or partner, but he won’t share his love of knots with her or his desire to tie her up and strangle her.

‘Check prostitutes to see if they had a john who was into knots, possibly tied them to chairs with plastic ties and used duct tape. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that he had practised using the same knot and the same items.

‘He won’t have a history of anger issues. He’ll be a regular guy-next-door type who is neat in appearance. The same holds true for his house. Everything will be neat and orderly, possibly to the point of an obsessive-compulsive disorder.

‘That’s all I have at the moment. Questions?’

There were none.

Chief Robinson took centre stage again. ‘It’s possible that we have an interesting development. I’ll let Dr McCormick explain. That’s the lady standing in the back – and she’s had great experience in these types of cases. Come on up and meet the fellas.’

Darby hesitated.

‘No need to be shy,’ Robinson said. ‘Crowley over there doesn’t bite any more.’

Snorts and titters.

Darby didn’t want to go up to the front. She didn’t want to turn this into a Q & A session. She didn’t have any concrete proof that the Ripper had, in fact, recorded what he had done to the Downes families and to the other families, or that the killer had been listening in on yesterday’s conversations. She could smell the desperation in the room. She didn’t want to give these men false hope.

She went, though, the heels of her harness boots clicking across the floor.

Darby turned and faced the room. Her deep green eyes stood out in her tanned face.

‘I have reason to believe the killer may have watched and possibly recorded what he did to the families,’ Darby said, and then launched into her theory of how the camera installed in a smartphone, iPad or laptop had been pointing at the murdered family at each crime scene.

‘At the moment it’s just a theory,’ Darby said. ‘We’ll know more later today, after the devices have been looked at.’

A cop with a buzz cut said, ‘So if he was recording himself, it’s possible he could’ve been listening, maybe even watching, what you guys were doing inside the house yesterday.’

‘I won’t know anything for sure until the FBI’s computer guys in Denver finish examining the devices.’

‘In other words, he could’ve been spying on us this whole time.’

‘Maybe.’

Darby saw the exhaustion and defeat in their faces. Some had taken out their phones and were studying the screens.

‘No tip or thought or theory is insignificant,’ Darby said. ‘Bring them to us. It goes without saying that this is your case. I don’t give a shit about turf or who gets credit. That holds true for Agents Hoder and Cooper. I’m leaving a stack of cards here on this desk.’

Darby had started to walk to the back of the room when Lancaster said, ‘I have some questions, Dr McCormick.’

21

Lancaster shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘This theory of yours,’ he said, puffing out his chest a bit. ‘Something of a stretch, don’t you think?’

‘I worked a case where the perp left behind hidden microphones at the crime scene, so he could listen in on the police and forensics,’ Darby said.

‘Just one case?’

‘So far.’

‘So this sort of thing is pretty rare.’

‘If you have an alternate theory or idea, I’m sure everyone here would love to hear it.’

From the corner of her eye Darby caught more than one man trying to suppress a grin. She looked only at Lancaster.

‘I meant no disrespect,’ Lancaster said. ‘You and Agent Hoder have stellar reputations, and I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say we’re glad to have you here with us.’

The man’s tone hit all the conciliatory notes. Darby wasn’t surprised. The deputy sheriff’s position was an elected office. As a seasoned politician, he knew how to serve up bullshit and call it filet mignon. But all his slick-speak and well-honed gestures couldn’t hide the fact that the man was a first-class asshole.

‘I understand you received a phone call last night,’ Lancaster said. ‘At your hotel.’

Darby had told only Williams and Hoder about the phone call, and neither would have told Lancaster. How did he find out? Because there’s at least one person here leaking information to Lancaster, she answered. Someone, maybe several people, were looking to score points with the deputy sheriff.

‘I was told this person threatened you,’ Lancaster said. ‘Something about wanting to get you in the rope.’

‘That’s right.’

‘Could you please tell us the contents of your conversation? It might be beneficial to our case.’

Not only was Lancaster trying to embarrass her – payback for last night – he was making an active play to diminish her worth as an investigator. If she didn’t answer – if she showed the slightest hint that she was embarrassed or uncomfortable – every man in this room would view her with a limp sympathy, similar to the way many viewed women who had been sexually assaulted. They’d isolate her like a leper and refuse to talk about the case in front of her.