confession. Well, you’ve been through the paperwork, so now you know as much as I do.’ He spread his hands in a gesture of openness and smiled. He seemed entirely without guile, but Karen wasn’t convinced.
‘In my experience, sir, there are two kinds of unsolved murders. There’s the ones where the whole team have no doubt who the killer is – but they can’t prove it. Lack of evidence, maybe, or somebody screws up something crucial so it never gets as far as a charge. Then there’s the ones where you follow all the leads, you chase down everything thatlooks like a clue, you interview everybody with the remotest connection to the case, and still you can’t come up with a viable suspect.’
‘I’ve no expertise in cold cases, Chief Inspector, but as far as live cases are concerned, I can’t argue with that.’
Karen inclined her head in acknowledgement and carried on. ‘The thing is, you can’t always tell from the paperwork which category any given case falls into. Because we’ve all learned to be very careful about what we commit to the files. With the level of disclosure the defence demands, nobody puts anything on paper or into the system about a suspect that might end up undermining the case when it comes to court. So which kind was Tina McDonald?’
Diuguid gave her a shrewd look from under his brows. ‘We never had a single suspect worth a damn,’ he said. ‘We tracked down guys she’d danced with that night, guys she’d stood next to at the bar. We spoke to ex-boyfriends. Everybody checked out. The ones that didn’t have an alibi fell down on the DNA.’
‘And that was it? No nod and a wink? Nobody with a grudge? Nobody she’d made a fool of? No history with some guy with a temper?’
Diuguid shook his head, glum. ‘Believe me, I’d be the first to tell you if there was anybody we looked at that was still in the picture when we scaled down the inquiry. It was a genuine mystery. And as far as I know, he never did it again.’
‘Or if he did, he was more careful with his DNA.’
Diuguid nodded. ‘Right enough. But folk watch crime shows on the telly and they think guys that commit sex murders like this can’t stop at one. They’re convinced they’ll strike again and again till they’re caught or they get terminal cancer or they top themselves. But we know that’s not always the way it goes. We know there’s guys that lose control and do one terrible thing completely out of character. And they’rehorrified at themselves. They’re appalled by what they’ve done. But they manage to get past it and they never do anything like it again. How many cold cases have you worked where the perpetrator has kept his nose clean for ten, twenty years or more?’
Karen sighed. He was right. ‘A few,’ she said. ‘Sometimes they’re almost relieved when we turn up with a warrant.’
‘Other times they’re really pissed off,’ Jason mumbled through a mouthful of scone.
Diuguid raised his eyebrows. ‘I can imagine. But the point is, if this is the first time his DNA has produced any kind of hit, you’re obviously looking for someone who has kept his nose clean for the past twenty years. Either that or a dead man.’
‘Or both,’ Karen pointed out. ‘And you’re certain there was nobody your team looked at and had their doubts about?’
Diuguid shook his head. ‘I’d have known. There were no secrets on my squad.’
Karen doubted that very much. In her experience, every cop shop was like a safety deposit vault for secrets. And every now and again, robbers broke in and scattered the secrets round the locker room floor. Andrew Diuguid was, she thought, a man who needed to believe his own propaganda. She didn’t think he knew anything, but that didn’t mean there was nothing to know. ‘Would you mind if we approached some of your junior officers to see whether there was anything they came across that they didn’t think was worth pursuing at the time?’
For a moment she
‘In my experience, sir, there are two kinds of unsolved murders. There’s the ones where the whole team have no doubt who the killer is – but they can’t prove it. Lack of evidence, maybe, or somebody screws up something crucial so it never gets as far as a charge. Then there’s the ones where you follow all the leads, you chase down everything thatlooks like a clue, you interview everybody with the remotest connection to the case, and still you can’t come up with a viable suspect.’
‘I’ve no expertise in cold cases, Chief Inspector, but as far as live cases are concerned, I can’t argue with that.’
Karen inclined her head in acknowledgement and carried on. ‘The thing is, you can’t always tell from the paperwork which category any given case falls into. Because we’ve all learned to be very careful about what we commit to the files. With the level of disclosure the defence demands, nobody puts anything on paper or into the system about a suspect that might end up undermining the case when it comes to court. So which kind was Tina McDonald?’
Diuguid gave her a shrewd look from under his brows. ‘We never had a single suspect worth a damn,’ he said. ‘We tracked down guys she’d danced with that night, guys she’d stood next to at the bar. We spoke to ex-boyfriends. Everybody checked out. The ones that didn’t have an alibi fell down on the DNA.’
‘And that was it? No nod and a wink? Nobody with a grudge? Nobody she’d made a fool of? No history with some guy with a temper?’
Diuguid shook his head, glum. ‘Believe me, I’d be the first to tell you if there was anybody we looked at that was still in the picture when we scaled down the inquiry. It was a genuine mystery. And as far as I know, he never did it again.’
‘Or if he did, he was more careful with his DNA.’
Diuguid nodded. ‘Right enough. But folk watch crime shows on the telly and they think guys that commit sex murders like this can’t stop at one. They’re convinced they’ll strike again and again till they’re caught or they get terminal cancer or they top themselves. But we know that’s not always the way it goes. We know there’s guys that lose control and do one terrible thing completely out of character. And they’rehorrified at themselves. They’re appalled by what they’ve done. But they manage to get past it and they never do anything like it again. How many cold cases have you worked where the perpetrator has kept his nose clean for ten, twenty years or more?’
Karen sighed. He was right. ‘A few,’ she said. ‘Sometimes they’re almost relieved when we turn up with a warrant.’
‘Other times they’re really pissed off,’ Jason mumbled through a mouthful of scone.
Diuguid raised his eyebrows. ‘I can imagine. But the point is, if this is the first time his DNA has produced any kind of hit, you’re obviously looking for someone who has kept his nose clean for the past twenty years. Either that or a dead man.’
‘Or both,’ Karen pointed out. ‘And you’re certain there was nobody your team looked at and had their doubts about?’
Diuguid shook his head. ‘I’d have known. There were no secrets on my squad.’
Karen doubted that very much. In her experience, every cop shop was like a safety deposit vault for secrets. And every now and again, robbers broke in and scattered the secrets round the locker room floor. Andrew Diuguid was, she thought, a man who needed to believe his own propaganda. She didn’t think he knew anything, but that didn’t mean there was nothing to know. ‘Would you mind if we approached some of your junior officers to see whether there was anything they came across that they didn’t think was worth pursuing at the time?’
For a moment she
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