Outside ICU, Kate paced. Liz Gould stood texting on her phone while John Zimmer sat on one of the waiting room lounges, legs stretched in front and eyes closed.
“Sophie’s awake,” Anya said, “and she says that she remembers.”
“So we can do the interview?”
Anya held up her hands. “She’s barely conscious and keeps dozing off.”
“But she does remember that night.” Liz Gould clicked shut her phone and stood.
Zimmer opened his eyes.
“The breathing tube is in her neck and she can’t speak properly. Her vocal cords are out of commission, but she is able to whisper. It just takes a bit more time and patience to understand. She’ll tire very quickly.”
Kate shoved her hands in her pockets. “We don’t care if she blinks yes or no answers. We just want to find out what happened and whether she can ID whoever did this.”
Anya was concerned about pushing the young woman but the police needed to act quickly if they were to find any evidence of the attack on his clothes or in his car or home. If the examination she did had failed to yield firm physical evidence, they had little to go on, especially if Sophie didn’t know her attackers.
“I’ll talk to the father and the intensivist and be back. You might as well stretch your legs, get a snack. This might take a few minutes.” Anya wanted to make sure Sophie was up to the interview.
“We’re fine.” Kate made it clear they weren’t going anywhere.
A few minutes later, Anya returned. “You can have a few minutes, but please, don’t push her. Sophie’s incredibly weak. The nurse is easing back on the analgesia so she’ll be a bit more awake, but if she gets any pain, we’ll have to stop.”
“We?” Liz asked.
Anya looked around the group. “The father asked me to stay.”
Zimmer retrieved a digital recorder from his pocket. “I’ll try not to be too intrusive. The Audio Visual guys can set up for a more formal version once she’s stronger.”
“Let’s do this.”
The detectives entered the unit, washed their hands and greeted Mr. Goodwin.
The nurse had brought some more chairs in, and suddenly the room felt crowded, almost claustrophobic. Sophie looked at each in turn and nodded.
Liz Gould took the lead. “I know this is very difficult but we have to ask you a few questions. Anything you can tell us, no matter how small a detail, could help.”
Sophie nodded. Anya sat on one side of her, with Ned on the other. The nurse stood in the back of the room with John Zimmer.
“Do you know who did this to you?” Liz spoke gently, like a mother promising to look after an upset child.
“No,” she whispered. “Never saw them before.” The machine breathed in, then out.
“Them? How many people were there that night at your house?”
The teenager closed her eyes. Her right arm twitched as she tried to move her hand. She showed three fingers against the blanket.
“Were there three men?”
Sophie nodded.
Anya swallowed. The sisters had no chance of fighting off three men at once. Across the room Kate’s eyes were studying the only living witness.
Liz continued. “Can you tell us what they looked like?”
“One had brown hair. Short. Cold dark eyes,” she whispered. “And strong hands…Tried to fight.”
Anya touched her arm. “We all understand how hard you tried. You fought for your life with everything you had, which is why you’re here now.”
The grieving father stared at the wall. His hand gripped Sophie’s but he couldn’t look at his daughter when she spoke. Rachel’s name had not been spoken, but remained on everyone’s mind.
The nurse disappeared and returned with a plastic mug full of tea for Ned. “I put in extra sugar. You need to keep up your energy,” she said. He appeared grateful for the temporary distraction.
Anya offered Sophie some more water, which she sipped.
Kate sat forward in her chair. “Can you remember anything that could help us identify them? Tattoos, anything special about the haircuts, any distinguishing features?”
“Short hair, like in the army.”
Liz encouraged, “You’re doing really well. We know how tired you are, but we have just a few more questions. Did any of the men have a beard or a mustache? Maybe a scar or birthmark?”
Sophie’s eyes widened. “One had a mole. On his chin.” The heart monitor crept up and the blood pressure level rose. “The one who took Rachel…with his brother.”
The detectives shared looks. Brothers, one with a mole. Sophie had to be describing Gary Harbourn and two of his brothers. They always hunted in a pack. Anya remembered seeing them clean-shaven the night of their release. The same night they had the street party. The same night the Goodwin girls were attacked. One had a mole on his chin.
“How do you know they were brothers?” Kate urged.
“One said their mum…would…”
She seemed to be fatiguing, struggling to get the words out.
“Would skin them if she found out.”
The monitor alarmed and the nurse moved forward. “I think she’s had enough for now.”
Sophie’s eyes flickered, then closed again, as if she could no longer keep them open.
“You have done a brilliant job,” Liz reassured her. “We’re going to catch the men who did this.”
Mr. Goodwin held the mug without letting go of his daughter’s hand.
Anya stood, to give the nurse space, and the detectives filed out.
As they stepped outside the unit, Kate’s phone rang. She answered it on the second tone. “We’ve just spoken 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.”