I nod. ‘I’m having the full case file sent over, but yes, there was another baby, but that was a girl. Born in 2002.’
Quinn grabs a bit of paper and starts doing the math. ‘So that leaves us about three and a half years between her killing that kid in 1997 and getting pregnant with the daughter in 2001.’ He looks up. ‘Could she really have had yet another brat in that time – yet another pregnancy no one noticed, and the original investigation never found?’
There’s a silence.
‘There is another possibility,’ says Gis quietly. He knows it, Quinn knows it, I know it.
Quinn lets out a low whistle and starts shaking his head. ‘Jesus.’
Gis nods. ‘Looks like that kid didn’t die in 1997, after all. He died last weekend, at Wytham. When his grandaddy shot him.’
* * *
Adam Fawley
24 October
08.27
‘Jesus, Adam, you’re only just back from paternity leave. You’re supposed to be taking it easy. Not having another run-up at the crime of the century. And another force’s crime, at that.’
I think he’s trying to be funny. ‘Trying’ being the word – in every sense.
‘I know, sir, but there’s not much I can do about that. We hardly went looking for it.’
Superintendent Harrison sits back and steeples his fingers. ‘How confident are you that this really is the child she was convicted of killing? I don’t want us digging all this up again on a hunch.’
‘I’m not one hundred per cent sure, sir, but it’s a very strong possibility. Mainly because I doubt there could have been another child of the right age that the original investigation didn’t find.’
‘So where does that leave us with the Swanns? Do you think they knew who he was?’
‘Well, he must have known who they were – what was he doing there otherwise? We don’t know how he found them – and clearly we don’t know where he’s been all these years either – but I find it hard to believe he didn’t tell them who he was when he arrived. Surely it’d be the first thing you’d say?’
Harrison is nodding slowly. ‘And yet he ends up dead.’
‘I know. I’m struggling to join the dots on that one too. All we do know is that for some reason the Swanns never called 999, and by the time we got there the body had been stripped of anything that could identify him.’
He eyes me for a moment. ‘Do you think he turned up unannounced? Or did they know he was coming?’
He’s asking me if this could have been premeditated.
And the answer is, ‘It has to be possible, sir.’
He looks sceptical. ‘You really think a couple of pensioners could have planned something like that? Because it strikes me as a spectacularly reckless way to kill someone and expect to get away with it.’
‘But take away the witness, sir, and it’s a whole different story. That was pure chance – if that photographer hadn’t been up at that precise place that night no one would even have known. The Swanns could have got rid of the body, cleaned up the house, carried on as if nothing had happened. But as soon as they got that message saying the police were on their way they only had one option – to do everything they possibly could to make it look like a burglary. Including the rather amateurish attempt to make the door look as if it had been forced.’
He gives me a heavy look. ‘But all that assumes they knew your man hadn’t told anyone where he was going that night.’
‘I agree. But we won’t know the truth about that until we find out who he was. One of the few things in our favour is that we now have a DNA sample, which may allow us to identify the father – that was never an option in the original investigation.’
‘You’re on that?’
‘Yes, sir. DC Baxter’s picking that up.’
‘Nothing useful on the Twitter appeal?’
I shake my head. ‘Not yet, sir.’
‘A bit odd, isn’t it? Don’t we usually get a pretty good response to something like that?’
‘Yes, but we’re usually trying to ID criminals who live locally, and we’re pretty sure this man came up from London. Most of our Twitter followers are in the Oxford area.’
‘Should we try the press, then? The nationals?’
‘I doubt we’d get much up-take. Not as it stands – not without letting on who we think he is.’
Harrison is nodding. ‘And that’s the last thing we want to do at this point.’
‘Exactly.’
Harrison sits back, thoughtful now. ‘What I’m still struggling with is why the Swanns would want to kill him at all, when he’s living proof their daughter isn’t a murderer. Don’t they want her exonerated?’
‘I know, sir. On the face of it, that makes it much more likely the shooting was some sort of accident.’
‘What, Swann blew his grandson’s head off and only found out afterwards what he’d done? Sounds like something out of Thomas Hardy.’
I didn’t have Harrison down as much of a reader. Just shows you.
I shrug. ‘It’s no more far-fetched than any of the other scenarios. Rather less so, in fact.’
He leans back, making the chair creak. ‘But whichever way you play it, it’s going to be a bloody minefield. If he really is Camilla Rowan’s missing baby, she’s been locked up all these years for a crime that never even happened.’
I smile grimly. ‘Hornets’ nest, can of worms, dog’s breakfast. Take your pick. And that’s before the press find out.’
He frowns. ‘Who else knows?’
‘As at now, just my own team. And Alan Challow.’
‘Well, let’s keep it at that. At least until we’re sure. In the meantime, I’ll give the Chief Constable the heads-up. And keep me in the loop on an ongoing basis.’
Three bullshit bingo hits in one sentence – that’s good going, even for him.
I cover my smile by getting to my feet. ‘Thank you, sir. I’ll certainly do that.’
* * *
‘So you want me to see if we can ID the father through familial DNA?’ Nina Mukerjee frowns. ‘You know that won’t be cheap, right? Is Fawley OK with that?’
Baxter nods. ‘Yeah, don’t worry, he’s signed off.’
‘OK, then I’ll get started this afternoon. I’ll put the dead man’s profile into the National DNA Database and see what potential family members come up. Though just so you’re prepared, there’ll be a huge number of possible matches, all of them very distantly related and most of them dead ends, so don’t hold your breath. And the computer stuff is just the start – there’ll be a hell of a lot of legwork after that.’
Baxter frowns. ‘Can’t you use things like Ancestry.com as well, like they did with that bloke in America?’
‘The Golden State Killer? That was done through GEDmatch – that’s a whole different ball game. Anyone can put their data on there and it’s publicly available information, so you can search literally millions of entries. I’m afraid there’s nothing like that over here, only the police version. You’ll just have to hope your dead man has some dodgy relatives.’
Baxter gives a grim laugh. ‘Wouldn’t be the first time.’
She starts to gather her things. ‘You put his picture up on Twitter, though, didn’t you? I’m surprised that didn’t come up with anything.’
‘Well, it was just the TVP feed, and we’re pretty sure he didn’t live round here, so I guess it was always a long shot.’
‘Fair enough.’
‘Though everything will change, of course, the minute the news about Rowan gets out.’
She gives him a wry look. ‘God, yes. I’m glad I’m not in Fawley’s shoes.’
* * *
Adam Fawley
24 October
10.10
As far as most of the team were concerned it was just another case meeting, but they twig pretty quickly that things have gone up a gear, because Harrison’s let me have a couple of extra DCs. With the budget cuts we’ve had that’s like hoisting a neon sign saying ‘Something’s Up and it’s Big’. And when the man himself strides in there’s a flurry of adjustment: Harrison at a morning meeting is as rare as hen’s teeth. People quickly stand up a little straighter, discreetly rid themselves of gum.