Page 138 of Maybe Tomorrow

‘You can stop there now, sir,’ the officer said, taking the machine from him. He looked at the display. ‘I’d say more than one glass of wine, sir. Unless you had a generous helping of sherry trifle for dessert.’ He opened the car door. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to come to the station.’

‘I really don’t have time for this.’

‘The thing is, I don’t have time for drink-drivers. I attended an incident last month. A bloke on his way home from winning a five-a-side football match. Almost as much over the limit as you are, thought he was fine. He knocked over a mother and her two children on a zebra crossing. The mother is still in a coma. She doesn’t know her two kids have died yet. And all because he couldn’t be arsed to get a taxi. Out of the car, please, sir. Don’t make a scene.’

He swallowed hard, unclipped his seatbelt, and slowly climbed out of the car.

‘Don’t forget your coat, sir. It’s a chilly one tonight.’

ChapterSixty-Three

Thursday 23rd November 1995

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.