The Devil's Garden (6 page)

Serial killers. Their names litter the pages of criminal histories, sadistic, psychopathic individuals whose abominable crimes are driven by sexual fantasies or a compulsive, over-whelming desire to watch their victims suffer. Without the normal neural circuitry that characterises a balanced mind, they are deaf to the victims' pleas to stop hurting them, to spare their life. And when their violent fantasies are played out – torture, rape, mutilation – and the victim is finally killed, the body is simply a carcass to be thrown away. They have had their fun; there is no further need for them.

The statistics are frightening. Most serial killers are white, from middle-class backgrounds and with a higher than average IQ. They generally start killing in their mid-20s, long after their apprenticeship in minor crimes – house break-ins, voyeurism – has begun. There is usually abuse in early child-hood – physical, sexual and/or emotional. They often wet their beds into adolescence, deliberately light fires, torture animals and fail to bond with other people closely. In child-hood, it is often the father who plays the pivotal role; he will usually hold down a steady job but is erratically inconsistent with discipline.

They may be in and out of jail, perfecting their techniques from hardened crims, coming out and practising what they have learnt. Usually cowards, when picked up by police they often cry, but the tears are not for their victims. They are for themselves. Remorse is not in their vocabulary. The more sadistic the torture and murder, the more they cower in jail, often taking their lives to escape.

There will be pre-crime stressors, factors that tip this person into a killing frenzy. Perhaps loss of a job or added responsibility at work; marital break-up; money problems. Usually it is a fatal combination – the straw that breaks the camel's back – that is the main contributor, the key to their warped motivations. Recent events may be triggering memories from childhood. His partner leaves, he is driven to kill. Did he feel helpless as a child when his parents separated? Is he determined not to feel helpless again?

Serial killers initially appear friendly and easygoing with their victims, their voice and mannerism changing as the psychopath comes to the fore. They have a script for their victims, telling them what they want them to say, forcing them to use foul, sexually explicit language.
I am a dirty whore. I want you to fuck me
. Now she has admitted she is a slut, a whore, he can kill her because she deserves it. And he has to kill her, because she can identify him. The only protection she may have is to fight like hell, to scream, kick and get on top of the situation. 'You don't play like you're ill or defecate or throw up,' criminal profiler John Douglas advises. 'That just further degrades you in the eyes of the subject. You've got to fight with everything you've got.'

A serial killer rarely uses guns; they are too impersonal. He or she wants to watch their victim suffer, likes to watch them die. Stabbing, followed by strangulation and suffocation, is their preferred method. Death up close.

Creatures of habit, they generally – though not always – go for type. Prostitutes: easy targets who willingly go with strangers. Old women. Homosexuals. Young children. Blacks. The idea is cemented in their sick psyche, and they trawl for victims with the same dedication and planning that others use in normal pursuits. They do not advertise their work. Ritualistic and repetitive, their modus operandi often changes from those that characterise their early murders. As they become more sophisticated, more confident, so their 'signature' – based on their fantasies – emerges. While their pick-up area, method of entrapment, choice of weapon and the disposal site are all important elements in the jigsaw puzzle, the key to their modus operandi is the killers' ritual signature, the aggressive fantasy that is endlessly imagined prior to the first murder and finally played out on the victim, before death or post-mortem.

Serial killers fall into two categories – organised and disorganised – although the categories can sometimes fuse. The planning and murder themselves can be organised, the frenzied mutilation of the corpse the opposite. But if their targeted type is not available, they won't pass up an opportunity to kill. It is more important to them to see their victim suffer.

The 'organised' serial killer – more ruthlessly violent than their disorganised counterparts – is never hindered by con-science. They know what they are doing, and they know what they are doing is wrong. The concept of right and wrong is nothing more than an academic exercise: ego-driven and highly manipulative, the coldly planned and executed murders are his trademark. This killer usually uses a vehicle for a fast getaway and constrains his victims with handcuffs, gags or terrifying threats.

Their victims are usually targeted strangers – a person the killer has stalked during his stake-out of his chosen territory. Like a wild beast hunting its prey, targeting the victim involves a carefully planned reconnoitre of both the pick-up and disposal sites. Streets and highways are memorised, driven or walked hundreds of times before the abduction, and all entrances and exits mentally marked. Given the seemingly flawless way in which the Claremont serial killer lures his victims into his vehicle, police are in no doubt he fits this type. A chameleon, easily able to blend into his environment, control is his catchword: able to glibly seduce a victim, often with just conversation, to do his bidding. It is the planning that most excites this killer, using his logical mind to act out his fantasies.

The level of organisation will be evident in his taking the weapon of choice to the crime scene and disposing of it after-wards. He will also not leave victims where they are killed; instead, their bodies are moved after death. From that point, he develops an obsession with keeping track of news items or police reports to see whether the body has been found.

Outgoing and charming in the entrapment phase, the killer's real personality quickly asserts itself once he is alone with his victim. If rape is involved in the murder, the organised killer needs his victim to be submissive. Resistance heightens his rage and sense of indignation; women are the hated, worthless sex, for whom he feels contempt. If he fails to gain an erection during the rape, this killer will likely blame the woman for failing to ignite his sexual interest. The crimes are always driven by sex, even if the act itself is not completed. Sex equals power and control. They take trophies, grim mementos of their crime. Jewellery, clothing, hair, body parts. Items to salivate over, to fondle and view when they celebrate the murder in their memory.

In contrast, there is no apparent rhyme or reason to the disorganised killer's choice of victims. He has no interest in personalising the people he chooses and when caught, finds it difficult to explain rationally to others the fractured logic he used to target his high-risk victims. His vehicle, like his mind and home, will be dirty and his personal appearance slovenly. Mutilation of the corpse and a chaotically frenzied crime scene are pointers to this killer's state of mind: the body is often found quickly as the disorganised type is not in possession of the clarity of thought required to move a body without being caught. The disorganised offender is very often raised in a household where the father's work patterns are haphazard, discipline is tough and there are external pressures: drug addiction, alcoholism or mental illness. As a child, he is virtually silent at school, retreating behind the mask of shyness but as an adult, he can disrupt his workplace by not getting along with his colleagues. Normal emotions – fear, rage, hurt – are internalised; the disorganised type is incapable or unwilling to express himself. Often physically unassuming or unattractive, they are serial loners, with no social skills at all. Finding it impossible to discourse with others, this type very often lives with their parents, or parent.

Instead of planning the crime, the disorganised killer will strike impulsively, without warning, an attack that may be precipitated by mental illness. Their victims are usually, though not always, females and after, he has virtually no interest in what he has done. This type does not take trophies.

Profilers have divided serial killers into distinct types who engage in either slow or fast kills. The Visionary, often a psychotic, hears voices or sees visions that order him to commit murder. The voices are variously that of Satan or God, and the victims are strangers. The Missionary is driven by a misguided, warped sense that it is his duty to eliminate certain people – often prostitutes or those of certain religious persuasions. Both engage in fast kills – the urgent need to enact their violent thoughts. The Hedonist kills purely for pleasure, and often gains financially from the murder; the Lust-driven Hedonist gains pleasure from the anticipatory and real association between sex and murder. These killers will often return to the disposal site to sexually violate a corpse, experience erotic pleasure while fantasising about murder or become sexually aroused while in the act of killing. The Thrill-driven Hedonist experiences a sensational 'rush' when killing, exulting in the mix of control and excitement he feels when a victim is powerless in his hands. The Control Freak takes extreme pleasure in dominating and manipulating his quarry. The latter types will frequently tape their victims' screams or pleas for mercy or photograph them – as was the Birnies' wont – in varying stages of their capture and death.

Which category does the Claremont serial killer fit? Visionary? This type rarely has a controlled crime scene, moves the body from the murder site or targets a specific victim. What can point to the signature of this killer is penetration of the body using an object, and necrophilia – having sex with the corpse after death. Missionary? Though the crime scene is controlled, this type of killer does not move the body and targets a specific victim. Like the visionary killer, the missionary will not indulge in aberrant sex, use weapons of torture and will not have a prior relationship with the victim. Unlike the former, there will not be penetration with an object or necrophilia. Comfort? These killers like a controlled crime scene, often have a prior relationship with the victim and will leave a weapon at the scene. Lust? This type of killer has a controlled crime scene, may torture, targets a specific victim, engages in aberrant sex and does not know the victim. Thrill? He will move the body, target a specific victim and use penile or object penetration. And the killer with a need for power and control? The crime scene is controlled, torture is possible, a specific victim is targeted and necrophilia is often practised.

From the way in which the Claremont victims vanish into thin air, it is likely that the killer is organised, social and clever, with an IQ that is probably above average. A person who is used to dealing with intelligent women and able to hold his own in social situations. If single, he will have a history of dating women. If married, he will maintain the façade of being a good husband and father. He could have a history of some form of abuse in childhood but is also possibly well educated and mobile in his work and leisure. His hygiene levels would be high and he would not drive an old car. Before discovery of the body and after, he would very possibly return to the crime scene as an onlooker or participant, and may contact police to offer help.

But regardless of how the serial killer – usually a white male, between the ages of 25 and 35 – acts, one thing never changes. It is never his fault. He is adept at abrogating responsibility, blaming society or someone else. And by shifting the blame, he feels no requirement to examine his behaviour.

It's not his fault. So he will do it again.

Macro taskforce investigators engage in official, formal debates. Police on one side, police on the other. Airing ideas and possible scenarios. 'How often do these debates occur?' I later ask a Macro insider. He can't tell me, he says. I will have to talk to Dave Caporn, but he may not wish to answer. It becomes a frequent mantra, bordering on the absurd; the squirrelling of information that could not in any way hinder the investigation if it was made public. 'Why?' I persist. 'Why would Caporn not want to discuss this?' He does not answer.

The Macro taskforce has twice daily briefings, at 7 am and 7 pm, which everyone, from the youngest constable to senior detectives, must attend. No one can plead ignorance or shy-ness. It is a dynamic strategy that pays dividends: by checking and cross-checking information gained during the day, it is often the younger team members with vibrant, fresh ideas that bring the best results. The need to look after the health and safety of the Macro team is also paramount. Everyone is encouraged to have counselling, whether they feel they need it or not. For the older officers the concept is often regarded as 'soft', but they are told to set an example. If someone is not coping, their superiors cut them loose early, putting them back into other areas. The needs of the investigation override those of the individual.

The taskforce adapts the American version of VICAP – Victim Identification of Violent Crime – to help organise the over-whelming amount of data. A comprehensive recording of all details of violent crime, including murder and sexual assaults, it creates a searchable database which is interrogated to find a link between old recorded cases with new cases. It is a quantum leap forward; pre-VICAP, officers who worked the modus operandi section physically examined offence reports and wrote up cards on each particular characteristic of the offence. Time-consuming, it also wasted space: Sergeant Tony Potts, who started at Macro in February 1997 in the role of media officer, recalls there was a drawer full of index cards that identified offenders who had a cobweb tattoo on the elbow alone. Computers could easily store and search that information; however, it was still time-consuming.

Macro officers set about the arduous task of identifying and linking known facts about the Claremont victims to any previous offence in WA, the rest of Australia and overseas and any known or recorded modus operandi. To do this, they need a system that can expedite the feeding of that information.

In conjunction with VICAP, they settle on the HOLMES system – Home Office Large Major Enquiry System – developed by the UK Home Office in response to identified failings of several British police jurisdictions when investigating the Yorkshire Ripper murders in the 1980s. Murders that changed the face of policing.

The most notorious serial killer in Britain since Jack the Ripper, the Yorkshire Ripper, as he was dubbed by the press, first attacked a stranger in 1969. It was the start of a maniacal killing spree that would stop only with his arrest. Police failures to identify the Ripper's modus operandi started early, when they did not notice similarities between attacks and murders. As late as 1996, the Chief Constable of West York-shire, Keith Hellawell, theorised that judging by the weapon used and other similar indicators in a large number of unsolved murders and attacks, 20 murders could have been the handiwork of the Ripper. For six years, Peter Sutcliffe terrorised Yorkshire residents. Of his 13 victims, eight were prostitutes and other women who had made the simple fatal decision to go out after dark. Sutcliffe's weapon of choice was the knife: the signature of his murders was repeated slashing in the area of his victims' stomachs and vaginas. Many were mutilated after death. By 1978, the hunt for the Yorkshire Ripper was the biggest in British criminal history.

Frustrated by the lack of strong leads and with the killer not leaving behind evidence that offered clues to his identity, the UK police were forced to resort to slow, mechanical means: sifting through the huge number of suspects, checking the car registration numbers of vehicles regularly seen in the red-light districts and pulling the drivers in for questioning. Then, a breakthrough. A murdered street worker was found in possession of a new five-pound note, and police started the laborious task of tracing the destination of the batch of notes. At one of the 23 factories traced, Peter Sutcliffe calmly answered police questions about his whereabouts on the night of the murder, offering an alibi that police believed. He would again call on his sangfroid the following year when questioned as to why his car had been seen numerous times in a red-light district, coolly answering that he had to drive through the area to get to work. Sutcliffe again walked away from the questioning and continued to kill for another two years.

It was this, in hindsight, where police recognised they had made their biggest mistake. While Sutcliffe's vehicle registration number was in the computer at police headquarters, there was no corresponding information to link that he had also been interviewed with regard to the five-pound note. The sheer number of suspects' names that had been fed into police computers ensured that cross-checking was laborious. The errors compounded. Reducing the number of factories that could have been recipients of the five-pound note from 23 to three, Sutcliffe was again questioned. The evidence was liter-ally at the policemen's feet: during this questioning, Sutcliffe was wearing the boots he had worn when he murdered his tenth victim. An imprint of the boot mark had been taken, but police did not think to look at his boots.

Something had to give. Public disquiet had reached a frenzied pitch and a fresh approach needed to be taken. A team of examiners was established to take a fresh look at the entire evidence and the sites at which the women had been murdered. Dr David Canter, Professor of Psychology at the University of Surrey, applied his skills in locating what he termed the 'centre of gravity'. It was this that brought another breakthrough: with the aid of a computer centralising the murder areas, investigators homed in on Bradford as the city in which the killer lived. They only needed now to join the dots: Bradford; known suspects; five-pound note; evidence.

Despite the manhunt and the heightened risk of being discovered – or because of a subconscious desire to be caught – Sutcliffe went trawling for another victim. He gave police a false name when he was interrupted sitting in his car with another prostitute he planned to murder, but this time a check of his name proved that the car also had false number plates. Asking to relieve himself before he was taken in for questioning, Sutcliffe disposed of the hammer and knife behind a storage tank. He had been committing murder for six years; finally in 1981, the identity of the Yorkshire Ripper was about to be revealed. Returning to where Sutcliffe had relieved himself, an astute young police officer found the weapons he had secreted behind the tank. When Sutcliffe confessed, he gave police an insight into the disturbed psyche of a serial killer. Driven to avenge a prostitute who had ripped him off for ten pounds, Sutcliffe targeted prostitutes as his victims. In his warped state of mind, any woman walking along the street at night was fair game. After his first murder, revenge intertwined with blood lust. He could not stop.

The lessons from the Yorkshire Ripper case led to a significant shift in the way British police tackled evidence and suspects in major crimes. Dr Canter had described to police how people use 'mental maps' to centre themselves in an area, marking out their territory with their own idiosyncratic memory of that place. '...Each person creates a unique representation of the place in which he lives, with its own particular distortions,' he wrote. 'In the case of John Duffy [serial rapist], journalists recognised his preference for committing crimes near railway lines to the extent that they dubbed him the "Railway Rapist". What neither they nor police appreciated was that this characteristic was likely to be part of his way of thinking about the layout of London, and so was a clue to his own particular mental map. It could there-fore be used to see where the psychological focus of this map was and so specify the area in which he lived.'

It was a salient lesson that their police counterparts in Western Australia would need to heed – that, and the wisdom of Friedrich Nietzsche: 'Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he doesn't become a monster.'