Have you got a strong stomach? Are you fascinated by the mind of a serial killer? Do you want to find out about Dennis Nilsen, who, during the 80's was one of England's most prolific murderers?

Brian Master's book, "Killing For Company" is an excellent place to start.

The book jumps in with both feet, the same way the poor drain cleaning man did that fateful night in Cricklewood. Right from the get go you are rummaging amongst the horror created from a warped and inhuman psyche.

Dennis Nilsen was raised by a good and loving mother, in the confines of a stable and nurturing environment. His father had left home when Dennis was very young and his male role model was that of his grandfather whom he adored.

He can remember being taken into a room once and confronting the coffin that contained his grandfather. There had been no mention of the death and, although he only recalled this later on in life, he seemed to not understand that his grandfather was actually dead. He kissed the corpse.

This stands out in his mind as being something to do with the final tip over from being a recently dumped homosexual into the raging monster that successfully killed in secret for a number of years. For him the act of death seemed to signify a permanence not available otherwise.

He was allowed to continue undetected because a lot of his victims were either homeless or people who wouldn't be missed initially. He would meet them in pubs, and genially pass the time drinking and laughing. He worked in a job advice centre and his people skills allowed him to manipulate the men with ease. Some were gay, some weren't, but it's clear that he didn't set out to meet people who specifically were.

His method was a simple one. Invite the victim back to his place in Muswell Hill, ply them with alcohol until they (and he) were very drunk and then strangle them with a tie or whatever else came t
o hand. Disposal of the bodies was usually carried out on a bonfire, together with rubber tyres to mask the smell. This would be, of course, after they had gone beyond their usefulness as a companion, sexual and otherwise.

When he moved to Melrose Avenue, Cricklewood, the accommodation was a top floor flat with no access to the garden. Thus his methods of disposal had to be adapted. This is where he started to boil down the mutilated pieces of the body and then flush it down the toilet.

Trouble was, he was starting to get very sloppy with the clearing out of bodies and could have up to three or four at any one time, stashed in plastic bags with blocks of deoderants or hidden under the floorboards. Each time a man was killed he would be washed and dressed and sat next to him on the sofa where he would watch television with them. This could only last a day or so and once when he ran out of hiding space, and time before he went to work, he'd had to leave one victim's body, rigid with rigor mortis, half poking up out of the floorboards.

The drains were backing up, complaints about smell and late night noisy activities running up and down the stairs were starting to tell on him. The Dynarod man proved to be his undoing, having recognised the lumps of meat found in the drains, and when the police called he'd knew that he couldn't hide any more.

This book goes into graphic details about the 15 men he killed, and the recurring patterns of behaviour that Nilsen exhibited. Brian Masters obviously has a good understanding of the mind of a murderer and has written the accounts well, and avoided over-sensationalising the already perversely sensational facts. He speaks with a great compassion for the victims, some of whom are never graced with more than a single name that Nilsen thinks he can remember them telling him.

It's almost impossible to make a book of this nature "enjoyable" but for those who
"enjoy" criminology, this is a fine example of one of our most notorious murderers, by an excellent author.