majority of serial killers are male. If the killer was female, she would have to be extremely strong, and if a female bodybuilder was seen in the area, someone would have noticed.”
Mac snorted. “That’s true. There haven’t been any witnesses coming forward. They only seem to notice the women were missing, but they don’t know who took them.”
Tanner nodded. “I’m not surprised. Okay, so you’re looking for a male, probably around six-four or six-five, and he’s strong. None of the blood tests came back positive for drugs, which leads me to believe he overpowered them before stuffing them in his car or however he transports them. More than likely, he drives a van or a truck with a cap on the back, so he can move them without anyone seeing.”
“Do you have a thought about race or age?” Mac pulled out a notebook and pen.
“He’ll be in his mid to late thirties. As for race, I’m not sure. I haven’t seen any indicators to make you focus on one ethnic group over another, though traditionally African Americans don’t tend to be serial killers.” Tanner gestured again to the knife injuries. “Another thing suggested by the wounds is he’ll be left-handed.”
“Okay, explain why you believe that,” MacLaughlin spoke up. “I’ve never understood how you profilers come up with that from just looking at the wounds.”
“Mac, could you pull out the ME’s autopsy reports for the first four victims from their files on my desk?” Tanner nodded toward the pile of folders. “We don’t have the papers for the latest victim, but I’m confident they’ll tell us the same things as the others.”
Mac grimaced at the mention of Marissa but dug through all the files to pull out the right reports. He started to hand them to Tanner, but Tanner shook his head.
“I don’t know if you all want to look at them, but the ME was very thorough. He measured the depth of each stab wound. His determinations helped me with my ultimate conclusions. When you have a left-handed attacker striking from the front, the wounds will be deeper on the right side of the victim, even if the person being attacked isn’t fighting back. Again based on the evidence found at the scenes, we’re operating on the assumption that he bound them.”
“But wouldn’t the depth of the wounds be the same on both sides if there wasn’t any struggling or fight?” Billingsley asked, reading through one of the ME’s reports.
“Not entirely. You would still have deeper wounds on the right side, simply because the strength of the dominant hand would bring more force into his strikes.” He shrugged. “It’s not an exact science, but I haven’t been wrong yet when I’ve used the theory.”
He picked his tea from his desk and took a sip, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the lukewarm liquid. There wasn’t time to get more. He strolled back over to the board and stared at the pictures for a moment.
“The perp hangs his victim by her wrists before he starts the torture,” Tanner commented softly as his gaze outlined the bruises on the delicate wrists. “He doesn’t kill them where he dumps them, but he uses the same type of room or spot. Industrial warehouse with brick walls.”
Billingsley started to say something, but Tanner saw Mac stop him with a quick shake of his head. Sometimes profiling was almost like being psychic, yet Tanner’s knowledge came from studying hundreds, if not thousands of crime scene photos. He read articles and interviewed mass murderers, serial killers, and sociopaths. Each piece of research etched a scar into his soul until sometimes, at night, Tanner stared at the ceiling, wondering how much more of this he could do before he went over the edge into darkness himself.
“If you look at the photographs of their backs, you can see where their skin scraped against the brick each time he struck them. I’m sure the ME did tests to see if he could get any residue out of those abrasions.”
“Did you read
Mac snorted. “That’s true. There haven’t been any witnesses coming forward. They only seem to notice the women were missing, but they don’t know who took them.”
Tanner nodded. “I’m not surprised. Okay, so you’re looking for a male, probably around six-four or six-five, and he’s strong. None of the blood tests came back positive for drugs, which leads me to believe he overpowered them before stuffing them in his car or however he transports them. More than likely, he drives a van or a truck with a cap on the back, so he can move them without anyone seeing.”
“Do you have a thought about race or age?” Mac pulled out a notebook and pen.
“He’ll be in his mid to late thirties. As for race, I’m not sure. I haven’t seen any indicators to make you focus on one ethnic group over another, though traditionally African Americans don’t tend to be serial killers.” Tanner gestured again to the knife injuries. “Another thing suggested by the wounds is he’ll be left-handed.”
“Okay, explain why you believe that,” MacLaughlin spoke up. “I’ve never understood how you profilers come up with that from just looking at the wounds.”
“Mac, could you pull out the ME’s autopsy reports for the first four victims from their files on my desk?” Tanner nodded toward the pile of folders. “We don’t have the papers for the latest victim, but I’m confident they’ll tell us the same things as the others.”
Mac grimaced at the mention of Marissa but dug through all the files to pull out the right reports. He started to hand them to Tanner, but Tanner shook his head.
“I don’t know if you all want to look at them, but the ME was very thorough. He measured the depth of each stab wound. His determinations helped me with my ultimate conclusions. When you have a left-handed attacker striking from the front, the wounds will be deeper on the right side of the victim, even if the person being attacked isn’t fighting back. Again based on the evidence found at the scenes, we’re operating on the assumption that he bound them.”
“But wouldn’t the depth of the wounds be the same on both sides if there wasn’t any struggling or fight?” Billingsley asked, reading through one of the ME’s reports.
“Not entirely. You would still have deeper wounds on the right side, simply because the strength of the dominant hand would bring more force into his strikes.” He shrugged. “It’s not an exact science, but I haven’t been wrong yet when I’ve used the theory.”
He picked his tea from his desk and took a sip, wrinkling his nose in distaste at the lukewarm liquid. There wasn’t time to get more. He strolled back over to the board and stared at the pictures for a moment.
“The perp hangs his victim by her wrists before he starts the torture,” Tanner commented softly as his gaze outlined the bruises on the delicate wrists. “He doesn’t kill them where he dumps them, but he uses the same type of room or spot. Industrial warehouse with brick walls.”
Billingsley started to say something, but Tanner saw Mac stop him with a quick shake of his head. Sometimes profiling was almost like being psychic, yet Tanner’s knowledge came from studying hundreds, if not thousands of crime scene photos. He read articles and interviewed mass murderers, serial killers, and sociopaths. Each piece of research etched a scar into his soul until sometimes, at night, Tanner stared at the ceiling, wondering how much more of this he could do before he went over the edge into darkness himself.
“If you look at the photographs of their backs, you can see where their skin scraped against the brick each time he struck them. I’m sure the ME did tests to see if he could get any residue out of those abrasions.”
“Did you read
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