Blood Born

to her and you won’t believe-”

A few moments later, she clicked off her phone.

“That was Hayden. One of the pubic hairs collected from Sophie when she came in got a hit. It didn’t have the root attached, so only one type of DNA, apparently. A few years ago, Noelene Harbourn was arrested for prostitution after bashing one of her johns, so her DNA’s on file. Hayden says the hair has to have come from someone in her family.”

Anya explained, “Mitochondrial DNA is different from the DNA inherited from both parents. It is only passed on from the mother. The problem is, mDNA isn’t specific to an individual. What it can do is confirm that the owner was born to children from a specific maternal line.”

“Exactly,” Kate said. “The hair has to be from one of the Harbourn boys.”

“Not necessarily.” Anya tried to make it clearer. “Mitochondrial DNA may only be passed on by mothers, but that means the grandmother shares the same as her daughter. Males don’t pass it on to their children, but they have it in their genetic makeup.”

“Yeah, but there’s no question that it’s Harbourn DNA,” Kate argued.

“The problem is that anyone born from the same family of women will have that same genetic code. Noelene Harbourn’s mother, sisters, grandmother, maternal aunts, and any of their offspring. You could be looking at a large number of people descended from the same woman.”

The three police stood dejected. That meant they had nine children, not to mention how many cousins, second cousins who could have been in the Goodwin house that night.

Liz spoke first. “I’ll start with the family tree. Maybe we’ll prove Darwin’s theory and find out the rest died from natural selection.”

“All right,” Kate said. “Thanks to our witness, we have reason to suspect Gary Harbourn was at the scene and the physical evidence matches the familiy DNA profile. That’s got to be enough for a search warrant.”

“Let’s hope a judge agrees.” Liz Gould had already begun to make the call. “We can hit them first sign of light tomorrow.”

15

Noelene Harbourn opened the door in a pink chenille gown and knotted the tie at her waist.

“What the hell do you bastards want now?”

The verandah light was still shining. “Do you know what fucking time it is? This is more bloody harassment.”

She turned to go back inside.

“If you’re not off this property in one minute, I’m calling my lawyer and letting the dogs out.”

Kate assumed they were the same thing. The big-mouthed matriarch was the reason they were here and they had family DNA to prove it. Today she bore no resemblance to the suburban mother who flirted with media while handing out homemade favors.

Liz Gould stood her ground. “You might want to see this first. It’s perfectly legal. A search warrant for this house and surrounding property.”

The gray-haired mother flattened her unruly hair with her hands and turned around.

“You’ve got nothing on me or my boys. Why don’t you just piss off and catch a real criminal.”

Kate turned to the uniformed police in the marked car and waved them to come in. The older woman snatched the warrant and studied it.

“This is bullshit,” she snarled. “My boys have been with me since they got out of jail.”

“Is that so?” Liz pushed past and led the search party inside. “We have reason to suggest they can assist us in our inquiries.”

“Whatever this is, it’s a set-up. Don’t any of you move. I’m getting my lawyer.”

One of the uniforms began videoing the scene. “Ma’am, I’ll be taping the search and you’re welcome to observe, but you are not permitted to interfere or remove any items from the house.”

She pushed past to the corridor off the main room. “Gary! Kids, get up! The pigs have a search warrant.”

A slow stream of bleary-eyed faces appeared. The youngest two looked like they’d slept in their clothes. Of the nine offspring, supposedly seven lived at home now in between sojourns in prison.

Kate counted heads. So far four males stood in the hallway along with two young girls, aged about ten and twelve.

“We’ve got a runner. He’s jumping the back fence,” Liz called from further inside the house.

Gary, the one with the mole on his chin, was missing.

A uniformed officer raced out the back door and easily vaulted the paling fence in chase.

“Why did Gary bolt?” Kate demanded.

Noelene Harbourn puffed on a cigarette. “Got me stumped. You people have harassed him enough, probably thought you’d plant something on him if he hung around long enough.”

She took a slow, deep inhalation, then blew smoke in Kate’s direction.

“Maybe he had an appointment to get to. I’ve got my hands full with this lot. I can’t be expected to keep track of every child every minute.”

Good to know, Kate thought. If the matriarch admitted that in court, it could blow holes in any alibi that claimed she knew where the boys were at all times.

The team searched under beds, between sheets, anywhere that Rachel’s missing underwear could be hidden as a trophy of the kill. Kate checked inside the washing machine before pulling out the cord and moving it half a meter forward. Nothing had been hidden underneath either.

She moved to the bathroom and ran an angled dental mirror in the narrow space between the toilet cistern and the wall. Next step was removing its lid and making sure nothing was hidden in the water reservoir. Rust stains marked the bowl.

Liz Gould moved around the walls with a stud finder, looking for signs of metal behind the plasterboard. It wouldn’t be the first time criminals had stashed weapons and evidence in the space between walls. The uniformed officers examined the rubbish bins while another checked the outside garage.

The family milled in the lounge room, remarkably unperturbed by the intrusion. Kate assumed the house had been searched numerous times over the years, which meant the chances of finding anything to connect them to Rachel’s murder were pretty remote. The Harbourn brothers would have to be unbelievably stupid to bring evidence back to the house.

Then again, she thought, they were serial criminals who’d been caught too many times to remember.

Kate learned a lot about the house inhabitants from a search, but mostly she saw squalor and complete apathy to house cleaning. From the state of the kitchen, with dirty plates piled high on the benches, grease stains behind the stove, it was a surprise that Noelene Harbourn’s biscuits hadn’t poisoned the journalists.

She checked inside and behind the stand-alone stove and oven, the fridge and freezer and inside every cupboard and drawer. She collected two carving knives for examination. The officer filmed the find.

John Zimmer arrived with his latest sidekick, Milo, carrying the crime scene equipment behind him.

“We’re here with the luminol.” He squinted through puffy eyes. The early hour wasn’t affecting only the Harbourns.

“Going to clear out the cockroaches while you’re here?” Noelene hovered behind them. “I’ll sue if you damage my expensive china,” she announced, then cackled.

Nothing in the house looked cared for, or worth much.

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” Zimmer replied. “The peeling wallpaper is all the rage again. Remind me to get the name of your decorator.”

“Fucking smart-arse,” she muttered.

Seemingly oblivious to the banter, Milo indicated that they would begin.

“Ma’am, we’re going to ask your family to step back into the corridor while we spray parts of this room with