flipped over a few pages and carried on looking.
‘It means that they share only one common parent? They decided to make sure by doing a separate test using mitochondrial DNA. That’s DNA that’s not from the cell nucleus, but rather from non-nucleic material in the mother’s ovum. And in that test, all three of them matched exactly.’
‘But I thought mitochondrial DNA was only passed on to girls,’ said Alex.
‘No, it’s passed on to boys too,’ Juanita corrected, ‘but they can’t pass it on any further. That’s because it’s contained in the somatic cells and female germ cells, but not in the nucleus of either. Sons have their mother’s mitochondrial DNA in their somatic cells, but not in their sperm. So they can’t pass it on to the next generation.’
‘So if Jonathan, Dorothy and Esther all had the same mitochondrial DNA,’ said Alex, ‘it means that Dorothy and Jonathan are blood siblings and that Esther Olsen was their mother.’
‘That’s right,’ Juanita confirmed. ‘But the differences between Jonathan and Dorothy with the test using nucleic DNA imply that they had different fathers.’
Stuart Lloyd was still frozen with indecision. He had told Susan White that he would look into the matter and get back to her. She had accepted it reluctantly and put the receiver down. But he was still unsure of where to go from here.
It could just be a coincidence. The name was uncommon, but in a country of three hundred million people more than one person could have it. But Susan had said more than that. She had said that the picture they had shown on TV had looked like Dorothy. She hadn’t been sure, she admitted. It was, after all, nine years ago. But the similarity of the face plus the name? And the fact that this girl in America disappeared nine years ago.
It was too strong a coincidence to dismiss.
‘Is anything wrong, dear?’ his wife asked, entering the room.
‘Nothing,’ he replied. But he knew that his tone was unconvincing.
Elizabeth sidled up to him and put a comforting arm round him.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked gently.
He couldn’t tell her—not yet at any rate. Maybe when he was sure. But not yet.
‘Just a bit of trouble at the clinic.’
‘Complications?’
She meant medical complications. The worst thing that could happen to any private clinic was medical complications leading to death or serious damage. Even if it was covered by the insurance, a successful claim could massively push up the insurance premiums, as well as damaging the reputation of the clinic and decimating its future client base.
‘Not that sort. Just a bit of personnel wrangling.’
It was an intentional red herring but he regretted having said it. Firstly, he regretted lying to his wife on principle. Secondly, he could imagine her now having visions of a cat fight between the nurses.
He went back to the kitchen to finish his coq au vin, warming it up in the microwave. But he ate quickly, not savoring it as he had before. And as soon as he had finished, he went to the living room—a quasi space-age environment of white leather, glass and chrome. Flopping down on the couch, he switched on the 50-inch LCD TV using the remote and flipped through several news channels. At first he clicked on CNN, but then remembered that Susan White had named another channel.
His wife wasn’t a great one for TV and was quite happy to read a book while he surfed the digital channels. But his odd behavior could hardly be expected to pass without comment.
‘Why the sudden interest in American news?’ she asked.
Stuart kept his eyes glued to the screen.
‘I just need to check up on something.’
Then he sat there watching a report about basketball. This was rolling news. If what Nurse White had said was correct, it would come round again.
He had to see for himself.
‘No, Mr Governor, I swear I didn’t leak anything to the press…I don’t know…No, sir, I’m sure it wasn’t anyone in my office…There was a guard outside the cell, but he couldn’t have heard anyth…Well yes, I suppose he might have told the guard…Okay, I’ll check it out…Yes, sir, I will.’
After hearing of Martine’s report, Alex had expected the governor to give him hell. But even he hadn’t realized just how forceful Dusenbury could be. Crucially, though, the governor had not withdrawn the clemency offer.
Alex wondered who the source of the leak was. It could have been anyone. The governor was right. A careless word from Burrow to the cell guard. A bit of gossip through the prison grapevine…and then someone decided to put in a call to the TV station.
Alex tried to put it aside. He had to focus. Nat was in his office going through the school yearbooks and checking up online to see if he could find out any more about the conflict between Dorothy and Clayton Burrow. Alex had remained with Juanita to discuss the DNA evidence further. All the while, a thought had been nagging away at him.
‘Juanita, there was something you said earlier…’
‘Yes?’
‘About the freezer where they found the breast tissue.’
‘What about it?’
‘You said “technically it was his mother’s freezer.”’
‘Well he still lived with his mother.’
‘Were his parents divorced?’
‘No, they were never married. I don’t think they even lived together.’
‘So it couldn’t have been his father who killed Dorothy?’
‘Not unless he suddenly came back into their lives, just long enough to murder a girl that his son clashed with at school.’
She was smiling to soften the blow. But he could see how silly she thought his idea and realized himself that it was he, rather than his client, who was clutching at straws.
‘What about his mother?’
‘What you mean—like, “how dare you be nasty to my son!” kind of thing?’
‘Okay, you’ve made your point,’ Alex replied, embarrassed.
‘No, I’m not saying you should drop it altogether. It might be worth checking her out. Just let’s not put too much hope in a long shot.’
