DATE: Monday, October 13, 1997              TAG: 9710110014

SECTION: LOCAL                   PAGE: B11  EDITION: FINAL 

TYPE: OPINION 

SOURCE: ANN SJOERDSMA

                                            LENGTH:   85 lines

CRIME LIKE JOHN DOUGLAS, A LOT OF US ARE ON THE TRAIL OF SERIAL KILLERS

I speak ``serial-killer speak.''

Though I knew that - and am loathe to admit it in polite company - the realization hit me like a ton of bricks last Wednesday when I attended John Douglas' talk in the Virginia Beach Forum series at the Pavilion.

I've always found human psychology compelling, and I relish a good game of detection, but when a serial-killer ``profiler'' fills an auditorium, I have to wonder what's going on.

Former FBI man Douglas, 52, who once headed the famous Investigative Support Unit in Quantico (think ``The Silence of the Lambs''), pioneered the technique known as criminal personality profiling. He's smart, smooth, filled with heart and law-and-order conviction, and somewhat obsessive-compulsive.

In other words, an interesting guy.

In the late 1970s, Douglas and an FBI colleague interviewed a number of imprisoned violent offenders, including Charles Manson, David ``Son of Sam'' Berkowitz, and Chicago nurse murderer Richard Speck. They were able to glean common personality traits, which formed the basis for general profiles. Today, because of TV and movie exploitation, Douglas' serial-killer profile has become familiar:

White male, 20s to mid-30s, from an abusive home background, intelligent, but underachieving. At the crime scene, he leaves what's called a ``signature'' - a clue, often ritualistic, that expresses why he needs to kill as he does.

Douglas learned ``to walk in the shoes'' of such killers - also bombers, rapists, kidnappers, child molesters - and therefore, to stop them dead. Once the hunter's thoughts are known, his actions can be predicted, and he can be hunted.

Now a consultant, Douglas has worked the Unabomber case (he figured the ``Manifesto'' would prove his undoing), and weighed in on the JonBenet Ramsey murder (he doesn't think the parents were involved), and the O.J. Simpson case (O.J. is the only viable suspect). He lives in Fredericksburg.

I've read Douglas' books, the riveting Mindhunter, and this year's Journey Into Darkness, which focuses more on predators of children, and know both the lingo and the cases. Still, it was a bit disconcerting Wednesday when I immediately recognized terms that Douglas dropped - like ``proactive,'' to describe police-media efforts to flush the ``Unsub'' (unknown subject) out - and crimes that he loosely detailed - such as Canada's sexual-torture ``Schoolgirl Murders.''

Before Douglas even emerged, I scanned the crowd and asked my companion: ``How many serial killers do you think there are in the audience?'' A reference to the creepy, and far-fetched, opening of the Sigourney Weaver-Holly Hunter thriller, ``Copycat.''

Geez, am I a serial-killer groupie?

No question, a sort of popular culture has developed around such murderers. The serial-killer mystery plot (Kiss the Girls, Deja Dead) has become a cliche. With excessive media coverage, a fear of inadvertently glorifying or glamourizing them is legitimate, I think.

Douglas comes by his interest and knowledge honestly, as do other professionals in law enforcement, and those in mental health, but what about the rest of us? Wherefore our fascination? Just garden-variety ``morbid curiosity''?

Maybe, for some. But I seek a different payoff: control. I want to psyche out the criminal so I can continue to feel reasonably safe. To prevent crime, not fear it.

A predator can't victimize a prey who can outwit him.

Mind over mind. Or so I think.

Douglas speaks of ``victims of opportunity'' - the woman who walks alone through a shopping center parking lot at night; the flattered coed who allows the handsome man (Ted Bundy) with the arm cast to photograph her. This is a far more empowering concept than the ``random violence'' notion, which furthers a sense of helplessness.

``Victims of opportunity'' - largely, women - make themselves vulnerable to the criminal who lies in wait. Too trusting, many women don't appreciate the risks of a given situation. Parents, too, in not perceiving risks, leave their children open to harm.

I don't find killers fascinating. They're inevitably byproducts of poisoned childhoods. I understand how they're created, and wish more people did, so that more childen would be protected from destructive parents. But like Douglas, the lives I'm worried most about are those of the victims.

And yet, there is something dark and seductive lurking in serial-killer speak, beyond crime prevention. Perhaps the bizarre appeal of danger - at a comfortable distance. MEMO: Ann G. Sjoerdsma, an attorney, is an editorial columnist and book

editor for The Virginian-Pilot.

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