The Profiler Read Online Free PDF Page B

bone. I’ve applied to the powers that be for additional resources. They’ve agreed to pay for the services of an Australian Federal Police criminal profiler.”
    Ben stared at Ellie and then switched his gaze to Luke, his expression somber. “I think we could use his take on this.”
    What for? Memories of her ex-fiancée swamped Ellie’s mind. Robert Stevens, Federal Agent. The man whose career had meant more to him than his pregnant fiancé. The man who’d decided a wife and child would cramp his style, would hold him back from his dreams of Federal Agent glory. Oh yes, she knew firsthand what Feds were like.
    A protest burst from her mouth. “But, sir, I hear what you’re saying, but it’s only been a fortnight. Surely, we don’t need to call in the AFP yet?”
    “I understand your reluctance, Ellie, but the trail’s going cold. When I get approval to call in specialist services, there’s no way in hell I’m going to turn it down.”
    “But—”
    Ben held up his hand. “I know what everyone thinks of the Feds and there are a few who deserve your low opinion, but this guy’s different. I promise you. I’ve known him since he was a kid. Apart from that, he has an enviable solve rate. We couldn’t ask for someone better.”
    Ellie swallowed a sigh of defeat, knowing this was one battle she wasn’t going to win. Besides, the extra manpower and a fresh set of eyes and ears could only help their investigation. But did the help have to come from a Fed?
    Ben caught her eye, his expression hard. “I expect you to assist Federal Agent Munro in whatever way you can. He’s here to help. You’ll set aside any ego or misplaced sense of territorialism and get on with finding this killer. Do you understand?”
    Ellie lowered her gaze. “Yes, sir.”
    “Good.” His voice was dismissive. His attention turned to the massive pile of paperwork that spilled across his desk. In silence, Luke followed Ellie to the door.
    “That goes for you too, Detective Baxter. I won’t have an officer under my command treat an investigator who’s doing all of us a favor, with anything but courtesy and respect.”
    “Yes, sir. I understand, sir.”
    Luke closed the door behind them.
    * * *
    Clayton found the taxi stand outside Sydney’s Mascot Airport and joined the queue of travelers waiting for a ride. People were tightening their coats against the cool breeze that drifted in from Port Botany. The temperature had dropped along with the sun, but even the worst of Sydney’s winter chill had nothing on Canberra and now he barely felt its effects.
    His flight had been uneventful and he’d used the short time in the air to mull over the details of Ben’s case. The unidentified head intrigued him, as did the way it had been severed from the girl’s body.
    He’d only come across one similar case during his career, when a disagreement between a boner from the abattoirs and her unfortunate husband had turned violent. The autopsy had revealed over forty stab wounds, some so vicious they’d severed his spinal cord. The woman had carved up his body with her knife and had then concealed the pieces in garbage bags, disposing of them in various dumpsters around the small country town where she’d lived.
    Bridget Bowen was now serving twenty-five years in prison with a non-parole period of fifteen. Although she hadn’t used a hacksaw, the level of her savagery had snagged his attention. And even with all her brutality, Bridget Bowen had waited until her husband was dead before cutting him into pieces.
    Clayton’s lips tightened. It never ceased to shock him, the level of malice one human being could direct toward another. He supposed that was a good thing: He hadn’t become so de-sensitized to the frequent horror of his job that he’d lost his ability to care.
    He did care…for all of them. Perhaps, too much. Memories of the victims he’d managed to save brought him comfort during the silent, lonely hours before dawn when he’d