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machines.”
    Percy didn’t respond. But his darkening complexion spoke volumes.
    The consultant waited to see if there were any further challenges. Hearing none, he continued: “This Towers individual doesn’t present any diagnostic difficulties. He kills when he panics, and he panics every time one of his sexual assaults doesn’t go according to his script. I don’t know any more than what you already told me, plus the material you sent, but I guarantee you that when they search his lousy little furnished room, or the car he was living out of, they won’t find any women’s panties, or hair ribbons, or Polaroid photos … nothing like that.
    “Why? Because, in his mind, the women he raped all wanted him. That’s the music playing in his head, and there’s only one tune on that jukebox. Mostly rapes, but some homicides. The only women who
didn’t
want him are the ones he killed. To him, those women would be ‘cock-teasers.’ Miserable lying sluts who led him on, then pulled back at the last minute.
    “But they were
not
trophies, nor was the style of killing designed to ‘pose’ the victims. He already knows how long any death-penalty appeal is going to take, and he still wants to do everything possible to extend that time. What he
really
wants is to be extradited. The state where the Canyon Killings took place didn’t have the death penalty at the time they occurred. They were still in what we call the
Furman
window, when the Supreme Court struck down the death penalty on constitutional grounds. All of the death-penalty states had to rewrite their laws to comply with that ruling, but they couldn’t do it retroactively. Why do you think Manson still gets parole hearings?
    “So what this Towers individual is doing is working this unsolved case the same way any good psychopath would—he’s
using
it. The more he pulls a Henry Lee Lucas blanket over law enforcement’s eyes, the better treatment he gets. Soon, he’ll be getting deranged women to write him love letters … and
those
he’ll want to keep. He’ll probably negotiate a book-and-movie deal, too.
    “But, like I said, not all psychopaths are intelligent. This one blew it on the time line. The Canyon Killings were more than forty years ago. He probably read about them in one of those ‘true crime’ porno books. But you’ve got a verified DOB on this beauty—pretty hard to kill before you’ve even been born.”
    “Look,” the blond man said, “let’s say we already knew all that. And we have plenty of reasons—solid forensic reasons—to take this freak out of the picture on the Canyon Killings. That’s not the real reason we brought you here.”
    “I figured as much,” the consultant said, unfazed. “Point out the target and I’ll take my best shot.”
    “Is there anything you can tell us? Anything about who
would
do the kind of thing we’ve been studying?”
    “Whoever did the Canyon Killings, now,
there’s
your trophy-taker. Classic ‘collector’ mentality.”
    “Some psychopaths take trophies, and
this
one took human spinal cords?” Tiger said, a slight trace of disbelief in her tone.
    “I don’t think so,” Doc answered. “It doesn’t feel like that to me. I don’t get that same sense of triggering—where something sets them off
after
a killing. It feels more as if whoever did these thought removing the skin of the victims would reveal whatever was under it.
    “And don’t even say ‘organized serial killer’ to me. The Canyon Killings actually come across almost like … like an investigation of some kind.”
    “What’s this ‘investigation,’ then?” the tiger-maned woman demanded. “Isn’t that what you’re here to tell us?”
    “Yeah,” Percy echoed. “Isn’t that what makes you worth seven hundred bucks a damn hour?”
    The husky man again rubbed his glasses, this time with apristine handkerchief. “You think my services aren’t worth what I charge, don’t hire me next time.”
    “We