I was referring to the so-called Chicago Rippers of the 1980s. A psycho named Robin Gecht led a team of three other like-minded men. By the time they were caught, seventeen women or more had been raped, beaten, tortured, and strangled. Gecht's crew severed one or both breasts off their victims, which they used later for sexual purposes and . . . dining purposes.
"Gecht never personally killed anyone, did he?" I ask.
"No, he did not. But he was the driving force behind it all. Very charismatic man."
"Similar," I muse. "But not the same."
Dr. Child cocks his head, interested. "Explain."
"It's just a sense of him that I get. Sure, Jack Jr. is the dominant. He's calling the shots. But in most cases of team killings, there's an interpersonal relationship between the killers. They give each other something. They may be twisted, but they're a team. Jack sacrificed Barnes, and it was all to get to me and confuse us." I shake my head. "I think the followers are a calculated means to an end. I don't think he needs them, emotionally, for his fantasy."
Dr. Child steeples his fingers, considering this. He sighs. "Well, that would fit with his dual victimology."
"You mean his other victim type being us."
"Yes. It certainly makes him more dangerous. He's a 'man with a plan' as they say. Mr. Barnes--and any others--would in that scenario be pawns. Plastic pieces to move on a chessboard. Not the worst news, but not the best either. Less emotional involvement means less chance of him tripping himself up."
Great, I think.
"How would he go about finding potential teammates?" I ask. "In your opinion."
"Obviously, the Internet has provided him with both anonymity and access." Dr. Child looks almost wistful. "It's the continuing irony: worldchanging inventions, they can do great things or be used for great harm. On one hand, the Internet has broken down political boundaries. E-mails came out of Russia before the Iron Curtain fell. People from different places in the world can communicate in a heartbeat. Americans and Eskimos can find out that they aren't really so different from one another. On the other hand, it has provided an environment nearly free of constraint for the Jack Jr.'s of this world. Rape Web sites, pedophilia, sites devoted to displaying photographic grotesqueries such as execution victims or the bloody results of car crashes." He looks at me. "So, to answer your question, and based on the evidence he's provided thus far, he would look for converts by rooting around in the less-desirable areas of the Internet, specifically in areas where he could first observe. He'd need to be able to do nothing, in the beginning, but watch. He'd look for certain proclivities. Like all manipulators, he'd find key talking points, those things to ingratiate himself, to be authoritative about. However"--and he leans forward as he says this--"he would have to meet them face-to-face. Simple e-mail or chat rooms would not be sufficient. For various reasons. One would be simple security. It's far too easy to pretend an online identity. Our Jack is a risk taker, but he prepares before taking those risks. He'd want to ensure that the person he was talking to really was who and what they claimed to be."
"Why else?" I ask.
"Foremost is the proverbial two-way street. Those he was speaking to would be just as concerned about the truth of his identity. Most relevant, however, is that I simply do not think it's plausible for him to make them act on their fantasies without personal interaction on his part. No. If I were him, I would take my time, look around, and make my list. Next, I would verify their identity in some way. Then I would initiate online contact. This would be followed by face-to-face meetings. From there, you can pick your method of will-bending. Perhaps it begins on a small scale.
'Let's go peeping on a sorority house. Let's beat up a prostitute, but not kill her. Now let's murder a cat, and be sure to look into its eyes as it dies.'
By building slowly, he would break down whatever flimsy morality they may have thrown up to regulate their behavior, to make them feel human. Once you've put one foot into hell, why not two? After all, and let's not forget: To them, hell feels like heaven itself."
"How long would something like that take? Conditioning a person, making them cross that line?"
He looks at me. "You're asking me how many other proteges could he have created, yes?"
"Basically."
Dr. Child spreads his hands. "That is an unknown. It depends on too many factors. How long has he been doing this? What pool does he draw from? If, for example, he were to choose recently paroled rapists to contact and mold . . . well, the jump from rape to murder is a short leap indeed."
I look into his tired eyes and take this in. How many years? How many Jack Jr. converts? We don't know. Can't know.
"One other thing bothers me about him, Doctor. You touched on it when you said he's a risk taker. This whole process of creating followers, it's a dangerous move. Any one of these 'proteges' could become a point of exposure." I shake my head. "It seems like a contradiction. On one hand, he's smart. Very smart, and very careful. On the other, he's taking huge chances. I don't get it."
Dr. Child smiles. "You haven't considered the simplest explanation for this contradiction?"
I frown. "Which is?"
"That's he's insane."
I stare at him. "That's it? 'He's insane'?"
"I'll expound some." His face gets serious. "But don't lose sight of that simple truth. It is the Occam's razor of my profession, and it has served me well, many times." He leans back. "As to specifics . . . I think there are two factors. One fits the fantasy. This twisted 'propagation of the species,' passing the Ripper torch, and so on." He pauses. "The other speaks to hungers."
"Hungers?"
"The thing that drives all serial offenders. The need to do what they do. It overcomes their cautions." He shrugs. "This process of contacting others, manipulating them, molding them, it is irrational. Aside from the broad strokes of his insanity, Jack Jr. has not been irrational. Unless there is a sensible motivation we haven't yet divined, then this deviation must be driven by something other than reason. Hungers. Some hunger is fed by doing this, and that satiation is both more satisfying and more important than his own safety."
"So basically--he's crazy."
"As I said."
I consider this. "Why the Ripper? Why the obsession with whores?"
"I believe one is the reason for the other. I feel the whores are the reason for the Ripper fantasy, not the other way around. Whoever it was that concocted this finely tuned travesty, well . . ." He shrugs. "They had a problem with women. Possibly driven by abuse or witnessed abuse. Ironically, the motivations and reasons behind this modern-day replica are probably very similar to the motivations and reasons behind the original Ripper. Woman-hate mixed with sexuality and denied desire. That old saw."
"So again--he's crazy. And whoever indoctrinated him was really crazy."
"Yes."
I look off, thinking. Predictable and unpredictable. Driven by both reason and insanity. Great. Still, I felt we knew him just a little bit better now.
"Thanks, Dr. Child. You've been a big help, as always."
Those sad, tired eyes look at me. "It's what I do, Agent Barrett. I'll make sure you get my report. And please--be careful with this one. This is something new. While new may be interesting from a clinical standpoint . . ." He pauses, looks me in the eye. "New in reality is just another word for dangerous."
I feel the dragon stir at this, defiant. "Let me give you some perspective from my side of the fence, Doctor. How he does it and why he does it? Those might be new. But what he does?" I shake my head, grim.
"Murder is murder."