A signature is also apparent in the half-drunk bottle of wine in the living room and rinsed glasses in the kitchen. Steele suggests the initial approach was ‘social’ rather than ‘sexual’. (This sits well with Britton, who is regularly described as ‘fastidious’.)
We are looking for one individual. Steele believes both Britton and Atkins would have been suspicious if a ‘visitor’ had turned up with a companion. (Steele does not preclude the possibility that a companion waited outside but points to the fact that none of the neighbours or passers-by saw anything suspicious on the night of the murders.)
The discrepancy between the lack of ‘forced entry’ evidence and the frenzied nature of the attack suggests a manipulative and convincing individual who is easily roused to anger.
Steele posits the theory that the perpetrator was naked or semi-naked during the attack. (No sightings of any individual in bloodstained clothing afterwards.)
Because fingernail scrapings show no evidence of skin contact, and none of the victims has defence wounds, Steele believes all three were immobilized before they were attacked. In the absence of anything specific from the post-mortems and toxicology reports, he suggests a stun gun to the neck or head. (FSS have re-examined Kevin Atkins to this purpose but say there’s too much bruising in both areas to corroborate Steele’s theory.)
Steele cites the lack of evidence at the crime scenes as an indication that we are looking for a ‘high-IQ, forensically aware’ killer. He also suggests that we keep an open mind about the damage to the rectum and the exposure of the buttocks. The illusion of ‘gay sex’ may have been done for amusement and/or as a blind – or double blind – to create confusion about the perpetrator’s sexual orientation.
Steele further advises that we avoid labelling the victims ‘gay’, despite Britton’s declared single-sex status, as it may influence our decisions.
He points to the difference between Britton’s lifestyle and that of the other two victims. He describes Britton as ‘old-fashioned’ and ‘intellectual’, and suggests he may have invited his killer in for ‘companionship’.
Steele believes an army connection may be the means by which the killer wins credibility with his victims and/or gains access to their premises.
He draws particular attention to the victims’ habit of keeping cash on their premises. As a taxi driver,
Harry Peel dealt only in cash; Martin Britton shopped ‘locally’ using cash; as a builder, Kevin Atkins kept cash in a roll to pay casual workers. This habit may have been known to the killer.
Steele’s Recommendations
The perpetrator is likely to be male, aged 18–25. He may be a prostitute/escort and/or current army or ex-army. Drug addiction may be what drives the prostitution and leads to the sudden outbursts of anger. The individual may be known to other men who have employed his services. The most likely motive was money.
The paucity of forensic evidence suggests an average or above-average IQ and a premeditated willingness on the part of the perpetrator to commit a crime. In support of this, Steele cites the fact that weapons must have been brought to the properties by the killer.
In the absence of any real overlaps between the three victims, Steele proposes we go back to the drawing board. He believes the killer knows the area well, probably lives within a three-mile radius of the crime scenes, and is happy to go ‘freelance’ when a suitable punter/victim presents. If so, he will be using the direct approach and arranging the meetings away from the bars and clubs. Steele warns that if we concentrate all our energy on the ‘gay scene’ and/or recognized ‘dating’ agencies we may overlook the obvious – that our killer is free to kill because no one else knows of the arrangement.
He adds, ‘There may be something distinctive about this individual that encourages a sympathetic response. Martin Britton, in particular, would have needed a powerful stimulus to overcome his natural reserve and invite the killer back to his house.’
Steele advises that we concentrate the inquiry on a search for clients who have experienced anger or violence at the hands of a male prostitute but have managed to avoid the fates of Peel, Britton and Atkins. He also advises that we reinterview Mrs Peel, Mrs Atkins and Hugh Britton in an attempt to identify behavioural characteristics that might trigger the killer’s rage at an early stage of the encounter.
With kind regards,
Detective Superintendent Brian Jones
Southwark Echo, Friday, 4 May 2007
72-yr-old attacked for mobile telephone
ABIMBOLA OSHODI, 72, was recovering in hospital last night after being kicked and punched by two assailants when she refused to hand over her mobile telephone. The assault is the latest in a spate of similar violent muggings in the south London area in the last few months.
Police are warning everyone to be aware of the danger of displaying mobiles too obviously. A spokesman said, ‘Carrying a cell phone in your hand is a green light to anyone intent on theft.’
Abimbola’s assailants are described as a young white male, slim, approximately 5' 10" tall, with blond or ginger hair, and a young white female, approximately 5' 4" tall, with dark hair. Both wore hoodies and Doc Martens-style boots.
Eight weeks later
Seven
DR WILLIS HAD BEEN a good reader of minds. When Acland’s request to return to active service was finally denied at the end of June, the last person he wanted to confide in was the psychiatrist. He was convinced, on little justification, that Willis’s first words would be ‘I told you so’. Certainly, most of Willis’s predictions had come true, leaving Acland to brood over his own naivety in believing there was a place for a disabled officer in a modern fighting force.
The medical board’s findings were crushingly negative. Recognition was given to Lieutenant Charles D. B. Acland’s clear desire to return to duty, but his ambition was at odds with the severity of his disabilities. His blind side would make him a liability in action, and his tinnitus and increasingly frequent migraines would reduce his competence to make decisions. As the first duty of the board was to consider the safety of all service personnel, it was the opinion of the members that Lieutenant Acland would pose a risk to others if he were allowed to resume his command in the field.
Even in his own mind, Acland drew a veil over his departure from his regiment. He handled his disappointment badly, rejecting any suggestion of a desk job and freezing out anyone who tried to help him. He persuaded himself he’d become an embarrassment – a hanger-on to a group rather than a member of it – and, when he packed his bags on the day of his departure, he knew he’d never see any of his colleagues again. He exited the barrack gates without ceremony or farewell, a lonely and embittered man with deep-set fears about himself and his future.
After the comments he’d made to Robert Willis about his stay with Susan Campbell – ‘too many people . . . and they all gape like idiots...’ – Acland’s choice to live in London might have seemed a strange one. Yet, despite his distinctive appearance, he knew he could be anonymous in the capital city. Passers-by might stare but he wouldn’t attract the same attention as he would in a smaller community. The gossiping curiosity in his parents’ village would have driven him mad. He craved obscurity. The chance to rethink his life without interference or pressure from outside.
With no dependants, an unspent salary while he’d been in hospital and a deposit account swollen by compensation from the MOD for injuries sustained on the battlefield, Acland had no incentive to find a job. Instead, he took a six-month lease on a ground-floor flat in the Waterloo area and lived like a pauper, eating frugally and only spending money on the rare times he stopped at a pub for a lager.