Carl read the summary page of the report from Forensics, which detailed the findings of their search of Barry Watson’s van and apartment, and dropped it on his desk. He reached into his pocket for a piece of gum.
Peter came into his office holding a copy of the report. ‘Nothing of any use in here, Inspector.’
‘Why take the clothes if he’s not a collector?’
‘Maybe he keeps them somewhere else. Perhaps he’s got a storage unit or something.’
‘He could have dumped the clothes, I suppose.’ Carl picked up the report. ‘Did you see where it says there’s no sign there’s ever been carpet in the back of that van?’
‘He could have washed it out.’
‘That doesn’t make sense, Pete. Why would he bother hosing it out after he’d left his semen all over the victim?’
Mike Jonas came into Carl’s office with an envelope in his hand.
‘Carl, we’ve got a problem. Neither of the Watson boys is a match.’
‘How’s that possible, Mike?’
Mike extracted a sheet of paper from the envelope in his hand and placed it on Carl’s desk.
‘See these lines here?’ Mike pointed at the series of lines on the paper. ‘The top line shows the male markers in the rapist’s profile. The two lower lines are the profiles of the Watson boys.’
‘They look like a match to me,’ said Peter.
‘They are,’ said Mike.
‘So what’s our problem?’ said Carl.
Mike turned the page over. ‘These are the female markers.’ Mike pointed to the spikes in the lines. ‘The Watson boys have the same mother, but she’s not the mother of the rapist. Looks like Henry Watson has another son, with a different mother.’
‘Fuck! I thought we had the bastard,’ said Carl. ‘You sure about those results, Mike?’
‘You won’t get a conviction with these.’
‘Well, I guess we’ll have to release them and have another chat with Henry, and see if we can get the truth out of him.’
Carl called Max Walsh, and then the duty sergeant at the City Watch-house, while Peter arranged for Uniform to bring in Henry Watson for further questioning.
It was late afternoon by the time Henry Watson had been located and delivered to Police Headquarters.
‘Mr Watson, you told us you had two sons. When we spoke to Sarah Pike, she confirmed that Malcolm and Barry were your sons.’
‘Who’s this Malcolm?’
‘Sarah changed Jeffrey’s name to Malcolm.’
‘I heard on the radio that you’ve arrested them, so which one of them did it? I can’t believe it’d be Barry.’
‘Mr Watson, do you have another son?’
‘Whoever the rapist is, Mr Watson, the DNA says he is your son, but he doesn’t appear to have the same mother as Barry or Malcolm. So, who is he? And, more importantly, where can I find him?’
Henry Watson leaned back in the chair. ‘Another son? Are you guys on drugs or something? I don’t have any other son, at least not that I know of.’
‘So, it’s possible you could have another son that you don’t know about?’
‘Sarah’s not the only woman I’ve had sex with, Inspector. And, back in the good old days, there was none of this safe sex stuff, so I suppose it’s possible.’
‘Do you remember any names?’
‘For fuck’s sake! We’re talking more than thirty years ago. Most of the time I can’t even remember what happened yesterday.’
‘What about since Sarah left you?’
‘You think some teenage kid is doing this stuff?’
‘Some of those teenage kids are muscle bound heroes, Mr Watson. Haven’t you seen them in the street or on the beach?’
‘I’ve only had one girl-friend since Sarah left me, Inspector, and I can assure you, we haven’t had any kids. If there is another one, he’d be older than Barry, but I’ve got no idea who his mother would be. Those were the days of weed and free love.’ Henry smiled. ‘You two don’t look old enough to know anything about that.’
to be continued…