Fielding reached for her phone. ‘I’m going to call him, remind him the DNA is our number one priority. Because we don’t want to lose sight of Nadia Wilkowa in all this. I need you to review her appointment diary and see if she had any connections at Bradfield Cross. I know most of her contacts were GPs, but anything that links her to Bev McAndrew’s workplace gives us a link. And look at her Facebook page too, see if she’s got any friends listed who work there.’

Paula was on her way out of the door when Fielding spoke again. ‘Torin. What kind of name is that? It’s not Polish, is it?’

‘It’s Scottish, I think. Bev’s dad was from Scotland.’

‘Oh. OK. Just thought I’d check there’s not a Polish connection we’re missing. Wood, trees, that kind of thing.’

Paula went to her desk and started working through Nadia’s data. She’d barely begun when her phone beeped. The text was from Dave and read simply, Summoned by AF. Sorry…

No point in feeling too glum, Paula thought. The DNA analysis would have to come out eventually. She’d been hoping she could figure out an explanation before it did. As if it was ever going to be that straightforward.

Twenty minutes later, Dave Myers walked in. He sketched a wave in Paula’s direction but headed straight for Fielding’s office. Under cover of checking Nadia’s records, Paula kept a discreet eye on their meeting. The DCI’s face gave nothing away at first. Then slowly, she moved back in her seat, shock and incredulity chasing each other across her face. And then a slight flush on her cheeks. Her lips parted and the tip of her tongue moved quickly from one side to the other. Fuck, she’s actually loving this.

Now Fielding was leaning over the desk, clearly making Dave go through all the data, point by point. Finally, she stood up and opened her door, patting Dave on the shoulder as she passed. ‘McIntyre,’ she called. ‘My office, now.’

Feeling numb, Paula did as she was bid. Fielding pointed to the chair next to Dave. ‘Dr Myers has brought us some extraordinary evidence. Doctor, can you tell Sergeant McIntyre what you told me?’

She had to sit and listen to it all again. But she didn’t have to feign her astonishment. Hearing it a second time didn’t make it any more credible. ‘And there’s no doubt about any of this?’ she asked when he’d finished.

‘No. We double-checked. I know it’s hard to believe, but I’d stake my reputation on the accuracy of these results. The DNA from the bloodstain on Nadia Wilkowa’s jacket belongs to the child of Vanessa Hill.’