Page 127 of Dying Truth
Bryant returned his gaze to the window as Kim put her phone on to speaker.
‘Go ahead, Stace,’ she said.
‘Boss, I think we’ve got something interesting in this DNA list. I mean, it may be nothing but…’
‘Go on, Stace,’ Kim said. She’d learned to listen carefully to the constable’s nothings.
‘I was going through the DNA profiles of all the boys tested against Lorraine’s unborn baby, and one of the records was duplicated. Now, if your chief inspector is to be believed about who they tested, there should be seventy-seven records.’
‘And how many are there?’ Kim asked, frowning.
‘There are seventy-seven, just like he said,’ Stacey answered. ‘So, with the duplicated test taken into account, it looks like one boy got tested twice.’
Kim got it.
‘Which means that one boy wasn’t tested at all.’
Eighty-Nine
Kim watched as another expensive car passed them and eased to the front of the building to deliver another well-dressed couple bedecked in evening gowns, tuxedos, fur and jewels.
She couldn’t help wondering if the alteration from concert to memorial service had changed the outfit of choice for any of them. Kim guessed that the press pack at the gates was having a field day taking photos of the local society elite. With the precision of a military operation each car crept towards the entrance, where a line of smart boys waited to step forward and open the car door. Another appeared at the driver’s window and offered parking directions. The guests then walked the red carpet between ornamental decorative lights illuminating the path into the school.
How much of tonight’s event would be given to the death of two young children and one adult? How much had events been adapted to accommodate the inconvenience? She couldn’t help but wonder.
‘Look, Tom Cruise,’ Bryant said, pointing to the next impossibly long car in the line.
She could see his point. She’d seen Hollywood film premieres with less pomp than this. The external lights placed around the building shone patterns and a yellow romantic glow onto the brickwork. Four separate uplighters shone onto the bell tower to the right of the main building, emphasising its height.
‘I think this is him,’ Bryant said, looking in the rear-view mirror. The wing mirror showed her Dawson’s small Renault nestled in between two limousines as though it were being escorted in.
Dawson left the car line and parked beside them.
‘What is this, the bloody Oscars?’ he asked as he got into the car.
Both Kim and Bryant turned in their seats as the cars continued to stream past them.
‘Boss, these folks do know that two pupils and a teacher died this week, don’t they?’ he asked.
‘Yeah, but why miss an opportunity to dress up, eh?’ she said wryly.
Dawson offered her the computer printout, but Kim shook her head. She wouldn’t be able to make it out in the dim light of the car, and she trusted Stacey’s judgement completely.
‘Of course, we can’t tell who is who because they’re just numbers here, no names,’ Dawson explained.
‘But someone would have a record of the corresponding names, surely?’ Kim asked.
Bryant nodded towards the building. ‘I’m betting it’s in there somewhere.’
‘Agreed,’ said Kim.
She thought for a moment. ‘Okay, Bryant and I can’t deal with the past case and the present at the same time. We’ll go and speak to Thorpe, while you try Sadie’s friends again. We need to know if there are rumours about someone having an illegal abortion. Sadie’s poem confirms she knew something and we have to nail that down.’
They all stepped out of the car, and three doors banged shut at the same time. Dawson headed off at speed as she paused to glance up and take in the imposing height of the bell tower.
Ninety
Stacey tried to pretend she wasn’t pissed off.
