Sunday 25th September – 10 p.m.
Following Aoife, it took one and a half hours to get to the university lab she used, and Nell was speeding while rebutting Rav’s misgivings.
‘I’m just worried about you, Nell. It seems like overstepping to me.’
‘Well, the family will only know if I get a positive result. And – if I do – then that means they won’t be waiting at the side of Siobhan’s grave in the morning, wondering if they’ll find a child there, will they? So yes. I’m very sure this is the right thing to do.’
‘But you’ll need samples, won’t you? From Siobhan. Isn’t that tampering with evidence?’
Nell fidgeted. ‘Hmm. Well. Aoife says her hair sample was taken with permission.’
‘If that’s what beardy fleece man was asking Maeve about at Siobhan’s grave, then that’s totally suspect. Maeve had literally just formally identified her sister. She was too upset to know what she was signing. That’s a sly move.’
‘Yes, I don’t disagree. But it doesn’t change the fact that the family will only know about this if there’s a result that will lessen their grief.’
‘And how would you like it if someone was investigating your family like this, without your knowledge?’
Nell had to concede she’d hate it. ‘I know, Rav. I know this isn’t perfect. I can phone Maeve right now, if you think it will help. But if the result is negative then I think it would be crueller to raise her hopes, then crush them, and then send her to the grave tomorrow with even more dread in her heart.’
When Rav looked away, out of the window, she knew it was his turn to concede.
But Nell wasn’t sure he’d totally retreated as she parked next to Aoife’s Prius. There weren’t many cars in the vast car park, and the modern, multistorey lab building glinted in the moonlight.
Rav had to wait for Nell to bring his chair round but, when she had, he transferred nimbly, and Nell noticed there was no sign of pain. She shot him an affectionate smile. He seemed immune to it when he was worried about her.
He spoke up as soon as they met Aoife. ‘I want you to reconsider this. If Maeve complains – and she may, if the result is negative and she finds out about it – then Nell could be in serious trouble, maybe even arrested, for tampering with evidence.’ His tone was sharp with irritation. ‘I know this is a key moment in your life, and I’m sorry about that. Honestly. But you shouldn’t be putting Nell in this position.’
‘I agree.’ Aoife nodded at Rav. ‘I wouldn’t dream of asking Nell to touch the body. But I told you – my supervisor had permission to take samples, to study the preservation process. He texted me to say he’d got them. He swooped in as soon as the postmortem was done. So we have hair follicles to extract DNA from.’ She grimaced. ‘Not as reliable as teeth or bone, after being in peat for two decades, but we’ve got a large sample, so we can hope. And Nell has nothing to worry about. Please. Look, we’re here now.’
Rav didn’t buckle.
‘Fine,’ Aoife huffed. ‘I’ll do it anyway. All I’m asking from you is to help me get it right. Does that help?’
Nell nodded. ‘Come on. It’s a long enough process without yakking about it all night.’
With a groan, Rav followed them in. As Aoife went ahead, Nell crouched to kiss Rav. ‘Thank you. I know you’re worried, and I know you don’t approve, but I know you’ll help.’
He huffed, pretending to resist the kiss. But his eyes softened. ‘You’re impossible.’
‘This is how I know you’re a keeper,’ Nell whispered, kissing his neck. ‘The more trouble you think I’m in, the better you manage.’
‘Oh, don’t even go there!’ Rav prodded her. ‘I’m not your excuse to be reckless.’ He held her tighter and kissed her.
As Nell walked beside him, she felt the delicious creepiness of night at work. Around them, the darkness closed in. Low clouds shadowed the moon, and just a few lights glowed from the town.
‘Everyone’s taken this weekend off.’ Aoife buzzed them in with her pass card. ‘I know it’s a fair trek from here, but my guess is I’ll see them at the Gin Festival. There’s no keeping students and academics away from alcohol. Of any kind.’
The corridor was like a high-tech, sterile hospital, silent save for a low hum. The chemical odour was familiar, but these labs were clearly a cut above the ones Nell had used at her university. This was even more pristine than the one she’d used for police forensic work.
Nell noticed that one lab seemed to have some kind of secure antechamber – the doors into it from the corridor were half glass, with solid doors to the lab beyond, emblazoned with hazard symbols. Intrigued, Nell pointed, about to ask. But Aoife was in a hurry, so Nell let herself be bustled into the genetics lab.
Inside, three walls were lined with counters bearing equipment and labelled cupboards below. The fourth wall housed the fume hoods. Immaculate benches sliced the room – a row of two on each side.
At the door, Aoife passed them both a lab coat and gloves. As they all pulled on the protective gear, she asked Nell, ‘What do you need?’
As Nell read out the list from the procedure on her phone, Aoife found bottles, then Siobhan’s sample, while Rav and Nell raided cupboards for sample tubes and petri dishes.
‘Shall I take a cheek swab from you, Aoife?’ Nell offered.
‘A hair sample would be better, wouldn’t it? Same as Siobhan?’
Wearing gloves, Nell took a couple of strands from Aoife’s head, and placed them on the pristine bench. She’d got some good root follicles for extracting DNA.
Aoife searched amongst a stack of trays. ‘My supervisor said he’d taken the sample for me as soon as the forensic team gave him the go-ahead. Aha.’ She brought out a flat foil parcel, unfolding it on the bench to reveal a long lock of hair. Ready.’
Nell changed her gloves and studied the strands from Siobhan, taking a couple of good roots. ‘Being submerged in water makes it harder to get results,’ she warned. ‘So don’t get your hopes up—’
‘Too late for that,’ Aoife said.
Nell worried if she’d even get any results. And how Aoife would deal with it if she didn’t …
But Aoife was staring at the samples. ‘Isn’t it amazing, what secrets are held in these, and what they can reveal?’ She gasped as an idea struck. ‘I must show you the strontium technique I’m using to compare the travels of a twenty-first century woman to our Iron Age bodies, if we have time. That’s over in the secure lab.’
Ah, so all the hygiene is because of the heavy metals they’re using in there.
‘I’d love that!’ Nell grinned, keen to learn about it. ‘Let’s get started here first. We’ll have a few hours to kill when things are processing, so you can show us then. If you follow what I’m doing with your own sample, then if anything goes wrong you can always take another.’
Aoife grimaced, but nodded.
‘It’s not as complicated as you’d think. Basically, we’ll extract the DNA from the cell and proteins it’s bound in, protect the DNA, then separate it from other organic matter.’
Rav wheeled over to help. Taking some of Siobhan’s hair, he micro-sliced the roots into a petri dish, unable to resist saying, ‘Now we’re really splitting hairs.’
Nell glared at him, trying to ask with her eyes if this was really the time for a joke, but Aoife was laughing. ‘Oh, you are an eejit. No! You’re harebrained!’
‘Oh jeez. I don’t need two of you on the terrible puns!’ But inwardly, Nell was pleased. It had been ages since Rav had subjected anyone to his terrible puns. It must be a good sign.
Her reply had clearly encouraged him when he countered, ‘Well, to be fair, this is hair-raising stuff, getting back to your roots.’
Aoife stopped laughing. ‘Yeah. Well. Maybe Nell’s test will help with that.’
An awkward silence hung until Nell showed Aoife the next stage. ‘Transfer your sample to a tube and then add the cell lysis buffer solution – literally, to split the cell open and release the DNA – and the enzyme, then put the sample in the water bath.’
Aoife was as impatient as a child baking buns, looking to see if it was ready yet.
‘Rav, can you do this bit? Separate the cell protein … with the chloroform isoamyl?’
With a rush of gratitude, she saw that he’d understood instantly as he seized the mechanical pipette, clicking it to draw up the liquid. She couldn’t bear the slightest whiff now. She’d stopped using it for euthanising any bats in her care who were too injured to recover. Because, every time, the smell propelled her right back to her attack.
Rav mixed the tubes, then, as Nell pointed at the centrifuge, he placed them into the angled slots on the central rotor ready to spin them at high speed and separate out the contents. Aoife did the same.
Fifteen minutes later, Nell heaved an audible sigh of relief at the sight of thin but discernible layers.
‘What, didn’t expect it to work?’ Rav teased.
Aoife looked concerned, so Nell reassured her. ‘It’s good, the DNA has risen to the top, so now we transfer it to a clean tube and mix in another agent.’
Nell knew she’d made her serious frowning face when Rav grinned at her. ‘I feel like we’re on Bake Off. Let me interrupt your critical moment to ask what you’re whipping up?’
‘Just don’t accuse me of having a soggy bottom.’
Feigning a shocked face, Rav promised, ‘Never!’ as Nell narrowed her eyes at him and centrifuged the samples.
Despite his joke, she couldn’t relax. She felt the pressure of a complicated process – and the weight of this one chance of finding out, here and now, if Siobhan really was Aoife’s mother.
Restlessly, she turned to the other equipment on the bench. ‘Right, let’s set up the tray for the DNA samples.’ She mixed agarose with more buffer solution and handed the flask to Aoife. ‘Pulse-heat that in the microwave for a couple of minutes, until it all dissolves.’
While Aoife did that, she set up the gel tray that they’d use for the electrophoresis.
‘All dissolved.’ Aoife set the flask beside Nell. ‘What’s next?’
‘Once this cools, I’ll add the ethidium bromide. Carefully – it’s a mutagen. So it can permanently change genetic material.’ She touched the flask, checking the temperature. ‘I think this is ready.’
As she poured the mixed solution into the gel tray, she inserted a plastic comb. ‘The gel will solidify around this comb, so the teeth leave wells in the gel, matching the number we need for our DNA samples.’
‘So we’ll add the DNA into those wells,’ Aoife clarified, ‘and the electric current will pull the DNA across the gel?’
‘Exactly. So lighter genetic material will travel further. And the locations where the material is deposited across the gel platform will give us that pattern of bands – the unique genetic code – that we can compare.’
‘Do we put the DNA in now?’ Aoife asked, as the centrifuge whirled to a stop.
‘Not yet.’ Nell just prayed the DNA they had would survive, as more washing and centrifuging followed. But – thankfully – enough DNA remained.
‘Now, we wait.’ At Aoife’s impatient tut, Nell clarified, ‘Only about an hour.’
Aoife gaped. ‘Seriously? This has taken two hours already!’
‘We need to let the ethanol evaporate, then we can add the buffer. By then, the gel will have set so we can start the electrophoresis – and compare the genetic codes.’
‘Oh God.’ Aoife paced, hands twitching. She glanced at the clock, ticking … so, so slowly through the night. Wanting something to do, she carried the equipment they’d used through to the prep room to clean.
It was the kind of stillness that only settled in when you were doing lab work at one in the morning.
So Nell jumped out of her skin when the door burst open.
Pulling up at the Garda station, James braced himself, but didn’t hesitate. He knew he was overstepping. But he felt he could fully justify it.
‘Sergeant Baptiste?’ James approached the officer who sat behind the desk, keeping his tone friendly, nodding at Nessa who was making drinks. ‘I’ve written out my report. I’ve emailed it to you, but I thought I’d let you know, in case you have any questions.’
The officer sat back and folded his arms. ‘Yes, I saw your email. I replied, in fact. So you didn’t need to go to this trouble. Unless you had another reason to be here?’
His expression was too enigmatic to read – even for James. He decided to be direct. ‘Well? Is Conor under arrest?’
Baptiste pursed his lips. ‘He should be.’
‘On what grounds?’
The Garda clearly didn’t feel the need to explain himself to a police officer as he studied his computer screen. And James could practically see the list of disorderly behaviours and varieties of assault that Baptiste could pluck a charge from.
‘Ah yes, here’s your report.’ He read, not even looking up as Nessa passed him a cup of tea.
‘Would you like a cup, James?’
James shook his head. ‘No, but thanks for the offer, Nessa.’
‘This report seems a little one-sided to me, DI Clark.’
James bristled. ‘You’ll find it entirely fair and impartial.’
‘I don’t think impartial is true.’ Sergeant Baptiste leaned forward. ‘You know Conor, let’s say, in a professional sense? But I knew him when Siobhan’s disappearance was raw. And, back then, he lost his temper more often than he found it.’
James began to interrupt, but Sergeant Baptiste held up a hand and continued. ‘It’s relevant because all this hinges on what those personalities were like – back then. And even if you believe Conor has changed over these years, tonight does not bear that out.’
‘As you can see, Sergeant Baptiste, I disagree. Brandon was—’
‘Yes, I read your points. And the emotional situation of the family.’ He leaned back and sipped his tea. ‘So. What would you do?’
‘Sorry?’ James blinked at the change of tack.
‘You’re a senior officer. You’ll’ve dealt with far more cases like this than I have. In my shoes, what would you do?’
‘I’d give him a warning and send him home.’
‘Righto.’
‘Righto?’ James didn’t want the optimism to bloom only to be stamped on.
‘That’s what I’ll do.’