Excerpt of Prior Sins by DJ Gross

Hadrian Prior studied the man sitting behind the two-way mirror of the Thames Valley Police Station. With his white hair and beard, Rodney Martin looked like Santa’s younger brother, not a killer of three adulterous couples in the Oxford area. Hadrian picked up his notebook, and paged through to find the passage where he’d first put himself in Rodney’s head.

Rage fills me up, oozing out of every poor as I cut through connective tissue. I look down at his lifeless eyes and feel a pang of regret. This poor sod was just her tool. For that she’ll pay. Three taps on the door. I shiver in anticipation. She’s here.

"If you’re to have any chance of making your flight we need to get started." Detective Chief Inspector John Skinner, Hadrian's closest friend, handed him an earpiece.

Missing his flight to self imposed purgatory sounded like a brilliant plan. Still Hadrian nodded and put his earpiece in.

"Don’t worry, mate," John said. "We’ll get this guy."

"I'm not worried." His statement wasn't bravado. The first two couple murders were flawless, but by number three Rodney had started disintegrating. A witness had caught a glimpse of Rodney at the last scene and a review of closed circuit camera footage confirmed Rodney was in the area at the time of the murders. A confession would tie things up nicely.

Hadrian crawled back into Rodney’s head. I show mercy to the men. The women have earned every moment of pain I bring them. Rodney had killed the men quickly, mutilating them post-mortem. He’d slaked his rage on the women. "John, I’d suggest probing Rodney for any guilt about his male victims."

Hadrian turned to the other occupant of the room. Detective Inspector Kathy Marsh reported to John, but today she was playing the role of John’s supervisor. "Once John’s softened Rodney up, you’ll go in and assume control of the interview. Having a woman order him about should incite the rage simmering beneath Rodney's placid exterior." Rage blocked reason. If they got Rodney angry enough, he would make a mistake.

The roots of Rodney’s anger towards women were obvious — losing his job and his marriage in a one-two punch. First Rodney’s female manager fired him and then his wife left him for another man. Unfortunately when Rodney’s rage built to an intolerable pressure, he’d chosen a most inappropriate coping mechanism.

"I’m ready to channel my inner bitch," Kathy grinned.

John laughed. "As if that’s difficult."

"Hey," Kathy punched John’s arm. "Enough of that."

"I’m off." John picked up two cups of tea from the table and breezed into the interview room. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Martin. Tea?"

"Cheers." Rodney took one of the cups. "Why am I here?"

"You’ve heard about the series of couples murdered in motels in the Thames Valley area, right? Front page of the papers nearly every day."

"Might have seen something on the telly. Don’t read the papers." His shoulders hunched like a cornered animal.

"We are talking to everyone who showed up in camera footage near the last murder scene. Strictly routine."

Rodney’s shoulders lowered. "How can I help?"

"Bollocks. I forgot to read you the caution." John sighed and picked up a card from the table. "You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention now anything you later rely on in court. Anything you do say will be given in evidence." John dropped the card and raised his eyes to the ceiling. "You understand, right?"

"Sure," Rodney nodded.

"Glad that’s done. Now Mr. Martin, last Tuesday you were seen near the Idlewild Motel. Any chance you noticed anyone unusual?" John flipped open his notepad.

"No. Sorry." Rodney blinked rapidly as he took a sip of tea.

Time to start rattling Rodney. Hadrian leaned into the microphone, speaking into John’s earpiece. "Mention the castrations." They’d withheld the mutilations from the vultures in the media.

"The murder scenes were gruesome." John lowered his voice. "The killer cut off the balls of all the male victims."

"I heard something about that." Rodney blinked several times in succession and then looked down at the floor, breaking eye contact.

No, you didn’t. You were there, Rodney. "We’ve hit a pressure point, John. Keep pushing."

John shook his head slowly. "What kind of a man cuts off another man’s balls?"

Rodney blinked in a quick trio.

His tell.

"Right, John," Hadrian said. "If you imply the attacker was impotent, perhaps Rodney will justify his actions."

"You ask me, I think our guy has trouble satisfying a woman. He tortures the blokes because he’s jealous of men who can get the job done," John said.

Rodney sat up straighter in his chair. "Maybe you’ve got it wrong."

"How so?" John sounded skeptical.

Rodney’s eyelids flickered again — blink, blink, blink. "The papers said the men had their throats cut."

So he did follow the papers. Hadrian smiled at Rodney's first admission, the first crack in the wall.

John shrugged. "Yeah."

"Maybe this guy waited until after he cut their throats. It’s not torture if they were already dead."

"Brilliant," Hadrian whispered. Rodney suggesting the castration occurred after death was significant. "John, tell him Kathy is keeping you in the dark and then I’ll send her in."

John grimaced. "Wouldn't know about that, haven't even seen the autopsy report. The inspector in charge tells us blokes nothing. Thinks she's better than us."

"Sounds like a right bitch."

"You don’t know the half of it."

"Nicely played, John." Hadrian turned to Kathy. "You’re up. Assert yourself over both John and Rodney early on."

"No problem there."

Ten seconds later, Kathy opened the interview room door, slamming it behind her.