Chapter 24
EVAN
I didn’t know how to reply. For a long moment I sat staring at my laptop screen, the phone to my ear.
The beer garden at the pub ahead of me was still roped off.
When I looked up, I could just see the edge of the police marquee at the back.
But there were people assembling at the front.
The tech spoke again, ‘Hello? You there?’
‘Yes, I …’ I breathed. ‘Yes. Listen, uh, we’re in very sensitive territory here. Because there’s a suspect in the mix who’s in … who’s maybe in law enforcement. We don’t want to tip anyone off.’
‘Okay.’
‘So just deal with me, and only me, on this.’
‘You said that already.’
‘I’m saying it again. If anyone else calls, wanting to talk about the results, just refer them to me.’
‘I can do that.’
I hung up. Went to Google. Searched Y-STR DNA test familial link.
Y-STR DNA analysis can be used to establish familial relationships between males by comparing short tandem repeats (STRs) on the Y chromosome.
The tests examine a fixed set of markers known to have high variability on the human Y chromosome.
They are an effective way to identify men who share a paternal relative.
I thought about my son. Then about my father.
I was dialling Arthur when the urge to vomit rose up in my belly, so swift and hot and fast I had to grab the door beside me and throw it open, retching into the empty space beside the car.
Nothing came up. When I shut the door again, Dad was on the line and I was sweating at my hairline in the rear-view mirror.
‘Evan?’
‘Were you in Redbelly last night?’ I asked.
‘Me? No.’ I heard the unmistakable scratching of the old man’s cigarette lighter. ‘Don’t tell me you’re so desperate for witnesses you’re just cold-calling everyone you know.’
‘I’m pretty sure Chris was there,’ I said. ‘And I want to know if you were with him.’
‘I was not.’
‘Where were you?’
‘I was here, seeing some arsehole from Maroota about selling the old GT,’ Dad said. ‘I’m going to have to sell them all. The cars. I can’t get under them anymore.’
‘You had someone at your house?’ I said. ‘What time?’
‘I don’t know. Seven. Eight. You’re not honestly asking me for an alibi, are you?’
‘I have to go,’ I lied. ‘Someone else is calling.’
I rang off, stared at the screen before me, the DNA matches.
Thought about my father and the gunshot injury to his right arm, the fact that he couldn’t even get down on the ground anymore to tinker with his yard cars.
He’d been favouring his old gunshot wound when I saw him at my house, clutching the arm against his side, something he’d been doing since I was in my late twenties.
I thought about how much physical fitness it would have taken to pin a woman in her twenties against a wall.
I thought about the alibi he’d just given me.
Easily provable with the phone calls or messages between my father and the seller, and the account of the seller themselves.
I looked at the screen again. At Russell’s face. The presence of Russell as a match to the mystery DNA profile offered me hope for a moment. Russell wasn’t in a direct paternal line to Chris. He was Chris’s uncle. I googled again.
Can Y-STR DNA test link uncles and nephews?
The answer made me sink in my seat.
This testing can be used to establish if two men come from a paternal line, which can include relationships such as siblings, uncle/nephew, cousins and many other possibilities.
There were two possibilities. My father and my son. Arthur had an alibi. Chris didn’t. And Chris was on camera.
‘Fuck.’ I banged my fists against my skull. ‘Fuuuuu—’
A horn blast right next to me made my stomach leap into my chest. I turned and looked, saw Bridie’s face across the road’s centre line, behind the window of Russell’s Mustang. She rolled her window down and I rolled mine down, and Russell leant across her to frown at me.
‘The hell is wrong with you?’ he asked.
I lifted my laptop from my lap, so that it was visible to the two of them. I had to swallow hard before I could form words. ‘Technological issues,’ I managed.
‘You get the swab results yet?’
I couldn’t answer, sat breathing and staring at them. Bridie’s eyes were wandering over my face, probably taking in the changes since the last time she’d seen me. Five hard years and one of the worst days of my life unfolding right now in real time.
‘Because if you haven’t yet, you need to get your arse back to where I sent you!’ Russell jabbed a finger at me.
‘I got them,’ I said.
‘Well? Was there a match in NCIDD?’
Help, Russell, my brain screamed. Help me.
‘No,’ I said. ‘No match.’
Russell gave a disappointed click of his tongue and leant back in his seat. Bridie smiled at me. Her hand was hanging out the window a little. She waved, her fingers out of my brother’s sight, and I waved back, and their car pulled away.