Chapter 63
Chapter Sixty-Three
Freya looked at her watch. She was going to be late.
As soon as she walked into her office this morning and saw the number of Post-it notes stuck to her computer screen, she knew she’d be late.
Yet, she still made time for a mug of tea and a bacon butty at ten o’clock. There was always time for food.
A rap on the glass door half an hour later made her look up. She almost recoiled in shock at seeing who her visitor was. She beckoned him in.
‘Wow, Caspian Tandy. I haven’t seen you for ages,’ she said, getting up and going to greet him at the door with a huge smile on her face. Apart from having a great deal of respect for Caspian and the work he did, he was also a warm man to spend time with.
As she approached, she saw his demeanour was anything but warm this morning. He gave her a smile, but it wasn’t a welcoming one.
‘Is everything all right?’
‘You need to sit down.’
She swallowed hard. The half-digested bacon butty was beginning to feel heavy in her stomach.
‘Something’s happened?’
He nodded. ‘Sit down, Freya.’
‘Oh God.’
She looked out at her team through the windows.
They were getting on with their work as usual and didn’t seem to be affected by anything.
There were obviously no dark rumours circulating.
This could only be something personal. She immediately thought of Chris, that he’d been involved in an accident of some kind, but then surely the head of forensics wouldn’t break the news to her.
Caspian closed the door and sat down opposite Freya. Her messy desk the only barrier between them.
‘I have an alert set up for any active cases I’m working on.
Anything happens and I get a notification.
Two days ago, I received one for the Alice Patterson case.
A new DNA sample was added to the National DNA Database and it’s a match for the sample we took from the underpants Alice was wearing when she was killed. ’
Freya’s mouth opened. Her eyes widened. ‘We’ve got a match?’
‘We’ve got a match,’ he confirmed.
She beamed. ‘Wow. This is … this is brilliant news. After all this time. Oh, God bless technology. I’m…’ She saw the grave look on his face. ‘Why don’t you look happy?’
He paused before clearing his throat. ‘Because of who the DNA belongs to.’
Freya’s smile dropped. She felt an icy shiver run down her spine.
‘Oh God.’ She braced herself. ‘Who?’
From his briefcase, he took out a cardboard folder and handed it to her. She tentatively took it from him, opened it, and cast her eye over the single-page report. It didn’t make sense to her. The numbers were gobbledegook, and the words were far too technical for her.
‘Bottom of the page,’ Caspian instructed.
Her eyes fell. She read the two lines and froze.
‘This is a mistake,’ she said, looking up. The paper was shaking in her hands.
‘I thought that too. So I checked again. Then I double-checked. I even rechecked the double-check twice. Unless there is a perfectly plausible reason his DNA is on Alice Patterson’s underpants, he’s your killer.’
Freya wanted to cry. ‘This can’t be… I … I can’t believe…’ Her voice shook with emotion. ‘How has he ended up on the DNA Database all these years later?’
‘He was pulled over by police on Monday night for speeding through a lowering level crossing. He was over the drink-drive limit.’
‘Jesus. What do I do, Caspian?’ she asked, a tear rolling down her cheek.
‘There’s only one thing you can do.’
Caspian left soon afterwards, leaving Freya in a state of shock. Wherever she thought this case would go, she was not expecting this. Not in her wildest nightmares. She ignored her phone ringing as she thought about what to do next. She needed to speak to someone.
With a shaking hand, she picked up her phone, dialled a number from memory and waited for it to be connected.
‘Inglethorpe, Bryce and Ripley. Good morning.’
Freya took a breath. ‘Good morning. Can you put me through to Jennifer Ripley, please? It’s DI Freya Sloan. I’m afraid it is quite urgent.’
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Ripley is in Leeds today. There’s an event to—’
‘Of course,’ Freya interrupted. She ended the call.
Today was a big day for Jennifer Ripley.
It was the anniversary of her charity Wrongly Accused and there was a huge celebration at a hotel in Leeds where everyone the charity had helped was gathering to honour Jennifer and her team.
It was an event she planned to attend; an event she knew she was going to be late for.
She grabbed her coat from the back of her chair and stormed out of her office into the open-plan CID suite.
‘Roger, get a car,’ she instructed. ‘Vicky, call West Yorkshire Police, tell them we’ll be carrying out an arrest in their area and we’d like their assistance. Scott, Rory, with me.’
She headed out of the room, struggling to put her arm through the sleeves of her coat. Today should have been a good day but it was going to be one of the worst days ever.