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“Fuck—”
“No, Sarge, listen. They did some extra tests, and they found something.” Tim pauses. Jamie feels a glimmer of hope as Tim continues. “A paternal match. To someone on the system.”
The air is suddenly sucked out of the room. He’s suffocating, can’t take a breath. “You mean …?”
“Our killer—they’re related to Cole. Elijah Cole has another child.”
Jamie leans against the wall in the corridor, mind reeling. He hears Romilly and Sandra still talking in the room next door.
“And you’re sure?” Jamie says slowly, “that it’s not …”
“They checked that. It’s not Romilly Cole.” Jamie breathes a sigh of relief. His gaze shifts to a bowl on the chest of drawers next to him. Spare coins, keys. And a few crumpled, white business cards.
“And, Sarge—”
“Tim?” Jamie interrupts. He looks at the card, picks it up. His thoughts return to a marginally better time, day three of this investigation. “Did we finish looking into the fly-tippers at the wasteland?”
“Yes. A hit to one company, but no witnesses.”
Jamie turns the card around in his fingers thoughtfully. “What were they called?”
“Bob’s Builders. But Sarge—”
Jamie stands up straight. His eyes lock on the card in his hand. “You’re sure?”
“You don’t forget a name like that. But Jamie, about the blood results. They got something else. I don’t know … it’s not consistent … They’re doing some confirmatory tests …”
Jamie’s head lifts again. “What, Tim?”
Lee pauses. Then he says quietly, “The chromosomes in the sample. They’re XX.”
Jamie doesn’t understand. “What are you saying? That the lab muddled the sample with Pippa’s blood or another one of the victims’?”
“No, Sarge, you’re not understanding me. I asked that. The lab was clear: there is no chance of contamination.” Tim talks slowly now, his words coming through clear over the phone. “What I’m saying is, contrary to our assumptions, the person we’re looking for is a woman. Elijah Cole had another daughter.”
CHAPTER
63
JAMIE COMES BACK into the room, his phone clutched in one hand, a small white card in the other. His face is white, and Romilly feels a fresh surge of panic. They’ve found him. Adam. He’s dead. But he meets her eyes and shakes his head. For a moment she can breathe again.
Jamie sits back next to Romilly. So many old memories have come flooding back. First being in the old surgery, remembering how it was back then. Sitting quietly at one of the desks in the office, pencil in hand, doing her homework. Listening to the adult conversation as the women talked, fascinated by the gossip being relayed in muted whispers. And now Mrs. Poole.
Next to her, Jamie takes a deep breath. Romilly glances his way, he’s clearly wrestling with something. New information he’s struggling to assimilate.
“Mrs. Poole—”
“Sandra, please.”
“Sandra.” Jamie flashes a quick smile. “Where did this come from?”
He holds up a white business card, “Bob’s Builders” written in simple font across the front.
Sandra stares at it. “It belonged to my husband. He owned the company.” She looks from the card to Jamie, then down. “He died. Six months ago. Heart attack—out of nowhere. I should throw it out, but …” Her face drops. “Is this … is this to do with those bodies that were found? Someone called me about that. I told them he was dead. I knew he was dumping stuff there, but he stopped. Ages ago. I’ll pay the fine.”
Sandra keeps talking, garbled excuses and defense. Romilly stares at Jamie. His face is turned to the floor, deep in thought.
“What is it, Jamie?” she asks.
