‘No. Even though we know he isn’t the father, I ran an analysis of him overnight and he isn’t a close familial match at all, no more than the background for two people of generic British heritage.’

Damn it. ‘Did you run Lilith’s DNA?’

‘Of course. She’s definitely the mother of the baby this piece of cord came from, and she doesn’t show any signs of consanguinity herself.’

Jake thought hard and tried to find any way to use this information to help the case. Nothing came to mind.

‘Do you have any suspects at all?’ Meena asked. ‘Anyone we can test these results against to see if I can find a familial link?’

The next suspect on Jake’s list was Mason Campbell. He lived just on the other side of the hedge from the girls’ home and had definitely been doing something untoward with O’Brien …

‘I’m not sure if he’ll agree to give a sample, but we could try Mason Campbell, the next-door neighbour.’

‘Campbell? He already gave me samples … No, wait.’ There was the sound of strokes on a keyboard as Meena looked something up. ‘It was Max Campbell who gave us samples.’

‘On the one hand, he’s not at the top of my list of suspects, but on the other …’

‘We may as well eliminate him and his father in one go.’

‘Testing Max would help rule Mason in or out?’

‘As long as Mason is Max’s biological father.’

Jake pictured their almost identical profiles. ‘There’s little doubt of that.’

‘I’ll run it.’

*

Jake’s mobile rang again as he exited the shower wrapped in a towel. He had the heater running full bore to warm the godforsaken icebox of a shack they called ‘Police Accommodation’. Had these people never heard of insulation?

He checked the caller ID and groaned. ‘Pete?’

‘It’s work, not personal.’

‘Okay then.’

‘I spent the last two nights running down what I can on your girls’ home.’

‘I … ahh … thanks. Did you pull strings to get the Haverstock DNA analysis expedited?’

‘I’m not the bad guy here, Jake. I want you to know that.’

One thing had nothing to do with the other. ‘I appreciate you helping with this case, but it’s not relevant to—’

‘Anyway,’ Pete cut across him. ‘What I’ve found may or may not be useful. Either way, I’ll keep digging.’

‘Okay?’

‘Looking through the financial records of both the O’Briens and Campbell, I’m not seeing any transfers in or out from St John of God. In fact, I’m not seeing much at all. Not enough to cover the expense of running a children’s home, certainly. Which means everything was being run on a cash basis, I assume.’

‘It seems so.’

‘Where would it come from then?’

‘I suspect they were selling babies,’ Jake said.

‘Fuck. I hate that shit.’