Autopsy Of A Mind 17 The Reason For His Failures

It was amusing watching Mr. Butler answering pa.s.sive-aggressive questions from law enforcers from Town X and City Y, who had never collaborated with a criminal psychologist or handled a case like this. Obviously, there were a lot of doubts about the method through which he had estimated the location of the killer's residence and the areas where the bodies may be disposed of.

"The killer is male, between the age of twenty-five and thirty, rents his house, but is single and not living with any family member. He is of average build and is una.s.suming in looks, but he is a good conversationalist and has a job which required him to talk to a lot of people on a regular basis." As he made the profile, the general reluctance to believe him was evidently high. When asked how he came to the conclusion, he smiled and changed the slide on the screen.

"All the victims frequent the farmer's market and internet cafes to play videogames. The location of contact between the victim and killer is in the market, where he works at the stall or behind the scenes. This is where he scopes out his victims and lures them. He makes them comfortable and accompanies them to the cafes after which he invites them to his place and kills them. Even though he is organized and intelligent in his approach, he lacks confidence, especially on his first kill. He shouldn't have ventured beyond his comfort zone, therefore, the location of disposal of bodies should be one of these locations," he pointed.

"Any questions?" He asked generously. A couple of people raised their hand.

"Could the place of contact have been the cafe and not the market?" One asked. Mr. Butler shook his head.

"The farmer's market is full of adults and usually teenagers accompany their family there. It would be difficult for the killer to lure the kids away if they were in such an atmosphere. Cafes, on the other hand, are frequented by younger people who are immersed in the game and somewhat familiar with one another. The killer would find it easier to accompany the victim to such a location." His explanation eased some of the distrust.

"Why do you think the killer lacks confidence?"

"He kidnaps male teenagers who can be considered capable of making their own life choices. If you notice the timeline carefully, all the disappearances were called in days after they actually happened, because there was a chance that the kid had run away or left the home temporarily." This shocked me. I had not noticed this. "This shows that he is deeply insecure about his masculinity and feels the need to reinforce it through such a fantasy. He feels that he lives an unremarkable life for someone his age, that his mediocrity is the reason for his failures."

'That explains the age estimate he gave,' I thought.

The room grew silent after that.

"From my estimates, there should be at least eight bodies. The number may be more as most cases go unreported." He looked around the room once more to ensure no one else had any questions.

"Meeting adjourned," he stated. He shoved his hand in his pocket and left the room. The police officers started discussing the plan among themselves, negotiating the task force to be asked for, crime scene a.n.a.lysts and such. I took the time to arrange the doc.u.ments and leave the premises.

It was fortunate that he had waited for me at the car. When I got inside, I saw him wearing sungla.s.ses.

'Who wears sungla.s.ses in their car?'

He noticed my stare and took it off.

"It makes me look cooler," he said, replying to my unasked question. I shrugged, almost used to his uncanny behavior.

"I'm sorry for offending you," I mumbled.

"Don't act docile, it doesn't suit you. I wasn't offended." He looked over at me. "You'll learn in time."

I almost snorted. We won't be seeing each other after the case is closed. I'll have to go to my intended company and work where I actually want to.

But I didn't say anything. As we drove, the silence became stifling.

.

"How long do you think it will take them?"

"You'll wake up to the news of the corpses being found tomorrow." I nodded. "I advise you to stay at my place. I don't want to wake up early and have to drive to pick you up and then go to the scene." Though reluctant, I understood what he meant.

"We don't have much work today, but we are sure that the place of contact is the market, so should we go to the administration committee and ask for the list of stalls and owners do narrow down the search?" I suggested.

"Ideally, it should be the cops doing that job, but if you are truly interested, you can do it. I will drive you," he said nonchalantly.

I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

"Is there a divide between the task of a criminal psychologist and the police department? Isn't the goal the same?" He shook his head.

"The myth comes from the misrepresentation of criminal psychologists in serialized television. Most of us don't pursue investigations and focus on academic research, but there are a number of us who do both. The job is to paint a picture of the criminal and understand them, we are not a part of the enforcement which searches for evidence and therefore catches the culprit. Our jobs coincide, but the purpose of each is different. The cops look for a coherent strain of proof which they can present at court while criminal psychologists refer to previous study of human psyche and deviance to conclude who the killer is." He waited for some time for me to process it.

"I understand, but don't you feel a duty to the law enforcement to find out the killer?" My question was born out of apprehension.

"Researching possible candidates helps evolve us as a.n.a.lysts, but this is at a basic level. Our relations.h.i.+p with law enforcement is based on the trust that we will do our respective jobs. I have shown them the way, now they will have to use their resources to give me a list of individuals who fit the profile I have made. It is similar to finding bodies, I can't just decide to dig up a certain location, I need authority and permission for that."

As he calmly explained the process, I realized my mistake in judging him. When he said that he didn't fault them for not being adept in his field, this was what he had meant.

"Then why did you ask me to visit the committee?" Strange.

He chuckled.

"I don't know what career you will choose, but research and communication skills are mandatory for any job description. Further, when you put this on your CV it will look beautiful." The smile on his lips remained. I found myself smiling, too.

"Thank you, Mr. Butler." He did not reply. He drove back to the villa silently and ordered me to contact the committee. It was not difficult to find a cell phone number and convince them to email me a list of stores. It was grueling work, contacting the sellers and inconspicuously asking about their employees. It was already very late when I was done with the task.

Mr. Butler had graciously prepared food and had somehow figured out my distaste for non-vegetarian dishes. As we cleaned the dishes, I asked Mr. Butler if he had some spare clothes and room for me to crash in.

He reluctantly told me that he has no clothing to share.

"Don't tell me you want me to sleep on the sofa," I grumbled as he was about to go back upstairs.

"Did you think I would let you take the bed? These TV shows are ruining expectations," he clucked his tongue.

"It's a villa, there are at least two guest rooms from what I noticed. You are being rude by denying me the right to sleep comfortably." He leveled me with a stare and told me to take the empty guest bedroom that Alec had never used. I shrugged and went into the room.

Sometime later, I heard him knock on the door, I opened it to find him looking utterly disinterested, with dark colored clothes in his hand.

"They are Alec's and have never been worn," he rushed as if fearing I would mistake it for his and think he was kind. I nodded and was about to close the door when I heard him say something else. "I don't like others in my clothes or in my personal s.p.a.ce." His explanation was easy to hear, but hard to fathom. It was unexpected, but the words were rational.

"I shouldn't have asked you for them, anyway," I a.s.sured him gently. I bid him goodnight and went to bed.

He was rational and protective of his privacy… not an unpleasant combination. I liked his company far better than the average person's. At least I didn't have to pretend to be virtuous or smile. Being around most people was exhausting, but here, the lack of contact kept me on my toes and energized. Certainly not a bad thing.