Kim ached to scream in her face that she was a police officer first and foremost, but she suspected it wouldn’t do her any good. As ever it was her and Bryant, and God only knew what they were walking into.
SEVENTY
‘It’s in,’ Stacey shouted, clapping her hands.
‘The DNA?’ Penn asked.
‘Yep,’ she said, opening the email. ‘Oh,’ she said, reading the results. ‘No match. Not for either one of them.’
The lab had outdone themselves on speed and efficiency, but it had all been for nothing. Neither Reece Gordon nor Warren Cox was the father of Rozzie’s baby.
‘Where the hell do we go now?’ Stacey asked, wondering who else they could test.
‘Just run it,’ Penn suggested. ‘You never know.’
Stacey entered the details into the NDNAD. The National DNA Database had been created in 1995 and originally only held the profiles of convicted criminals or people awaiting trial. But by 2008 they’d been allowed to take samples, without consent, from anyone arrested for all but minor offences.
When she’d finished, Stacey sat back. ‘I mean. I’m not really sure what this has to do with the murders anyway. You really think the father of Rozzie’s baby would do this? And what about Rachel? If she was murdered, how does—Blimey O’Reilly, Penn,’ she said, sitting up. ‘We just got ourselves a positive hit within a minute.’
SEVENTY-ONE
Bryant heard the crash of something falling at the top of the stairs. He took them two at a time and instinctively headed for Rozzie’s room.
‘What the hell? Get off him!’ Bryant said, rushing over to the bed where Reece Gordon was poised with his fist ready to crash down on the figure sprawled across the bed.
Daryl Hewitt held up his forearm in defence.
‘Step away from him, Reece,’ Bryant instructed calmly.
‘Do you know what this bastard did?’
Like most police officers, Bryant was able to gather all the information at his disposal and make a reasonable deduction in a couple of seconds.
‘He’s the father of Rozzie’s child?’
‘Yeah, so tell me why I shouldn’t just pummel him right now?’ he spat.
During their conversations, Bryant had never seen the man like this. His face was twisted with rage and hatred.
‘Because then I’ll have to arrest you instead of him. Have you hit him yet?’
Reece shook his head.
‘Then you’re not in any trouble, but one punch witnessed by a police officer and you’re in the shit.’
Reece released him with disgust and then wiped his hands on his trousers as though he’d been touching something repulsive.
Daryl sat up. Relief and gratitude shone from his eyes.
‘Thank you, Officer. I’m—’
‘An absolute pig is what you are. A seventeen-year-old girl? The sister of your wife?’
Bryant struggled to get his mind around how many lines this man had crossed. Was there nothing he hadn’t taken from this family?
‘It was just the one time. We’d both had a couple of drinks. Things with Rachel were—’
‘Please stop,’ Bryant said, holding up his hand. He didn’t want to hear any kind of justification for his actions. Especially when both women concerned were lying dead in the morgue. ‘You knew Rozzie as a child. She was little more than a child anyway, but you knew her from when she was eleven years old. If I didn’t have a warrant card, I’d have let him beat the shit out of you.’