Jack
"She's been arrested. She's in custody." Thomas informs us.
"Huh?" I retort. "You are joking?"
How the hell could anyone accuse Nikki of murder?
"No."
"Right. I'm going down there." I announce, grabbing my coat and heading for the door.
"How's that going to help?"
Well, I would have thought that was obvious. I'll keep yelling at them until they let her out.
"What? So we just abandon her – is that it?" I snap. "Screw that."
When hell freezes over.
"Jack. Jack! We keep our heads, we do our jobs, we find out what really happened and we get her out." Thomas instructs me sternly. "In that order."
I need a stern voice. It's normally Nikki who keeps me thinking clearly. Without her, I just can't.
Thomas turns to my usually supportive lab assistant. "Clarissa?"
Not this time though. On this occasion, Clarissa appears to think Nikki is guilty. "I'm worried about her. The way she was with me tonight-"
I cut her off, feeling angry and let down. "You're worried about her welfare, or what she might have done?"
"Jack..." She protests – apparently surprised by my anger, but I'm not in the mood. How dare she let Nikki down.
"Now which is it? Come on."
"Both." She answers with slight hesitation, probably due to my anger.
"Great." I snap at her. "Fantastic."
Clarissa and Thomas go home, deciding that there's nothing more they can do at the moment, but I remain at work - with my temper boiling.
Nikki's list of allies grows thin. Everyone has decided that she's guilty – even Thomas, who she looks up to as a father figure – and Clarissa, who's meant to be her friend. They've both given up on her and it's not right. She hasn't done anything.
I eventually fall asleep on my desk and I'm awoken by Clarissa shaking my shoulders gently.
"Has he been here all night?" I hear Thomas ask as I wake up.
What a stupid question.
"It looks like it." Clarissa answers.
"Nikki didn't get to go home, so why would I?" I mumble groggily. "What time is it?"
"5.30am." The older man responds.
I look up, puzzled. They don't normally come in until 9.30am – unless there's a call-out.
"We've got to get Nikki out, haven't we." he adds.
"You see, Jack." Clarissa comments. "You were angry because you thought we'd given up on her, but there was nothing we could do until daylight. Now daylight iis nearly here and we're back."
My anger at the two of them immediately disappears. They know she's innocent. She still has her friends.
I go to the scene to look for evidence. Clarissa works back in the lab and Thomas does the post-mortem on Belinda Roach. The awful woman who arrested Nikki is apparently already convinced of her guilt and everything Thomas finds while examining the body seems to suggests to DI Rankin, that Nikki did indeed kill this woman.
It's not looking good – that's what I hate about the police. Well, one of the things anyway. They decide who they want the culprit to be – and then they do their utmost to make the evidence fit with what they're saying.
Nikki hasn't got a hope, unless we can find concrete proof of her innocence – or reliable evidence of someone else's guilt. Nikki is innocent – and we will not stop until we prove it.
I have a laptop link with the cutting room, so I can hear everything Rankin says – and her voice grates.
My first sign of hope is the rose arch.
"Roach was 5.5 – if she hit her head on the arch, she was being carried. And I'll wager by someone much taller and stronger than Nikki."
I mean what does Rankin think Nikki is? Superhuman? She brilliant – totally brilliant, but that comes from her brains, not some sort of super power.
"Bloody hell." I exclaim suddenly. "There was someone else here. Look, a big old boot print."
That's not Nikki's either.
"...And a fragment of glass."
When I get back to the Lyell, Rankin is still adamant that Nikki killed Belinda Roach – no matter how much evidence we present, and by the time we're all in the viewing room, even Thomas is having trouble keeping a lid on his temper.
"The bruising on the throat, the...the carotid hold, the boot print, the victim being lifted off the ground for a distance of 30 yards!" He states.
"The boot prints could have been left by anyone, at any time." Ranklin informs us.
Oh, this is ridiculous.
"Wrong." I correct her. "They were left in a bacterial detergent called Sanify. Which contains a gelling agent. According to Nikki, Roach had a blocked drain and was using the detergent when she arrived at 8.30."
"According to Nikki." The DI retorts.
"Yeah!" I snap, losing patience. This woman had already decided that Nikki's going down for murder. "Now, this detergent has a drying time of 45 minutes," I continue. "Suggesting the prints were left between 8.30 and 9.15. Sanify was also present on a shard of glass which may have transferred from the killer's boot tread."
"Dr Alexander was drawn to Roach's house by the discovery of the latter's thumb print, agreed?" Clarissa remarks, coming into the room.
"Evidence you suppressed." Rankin interjects. She's going to have a go at Clarissa now, but Clarissa just ignores her.
"One error. One slip-up by an otherwise forensically airtight killer. Unless it's not an error at all – it's bait."
"Oh, total supposition." Rankin sneers. "You're supposed to be a scientist."
And you're supposed to be a police officer – yet you ignored all the other evidence Thomas mentioned. What happened to innocent until proven guilty, that's what I want to know. This is guilty until proven otherwise.
Clarissa remains undeterred. "And scientists are trained to interrogate anomalies. This is anomaly."
"So what's your point?" The DI states.
"In all but one respect, planting someone's prints is quite straightforward - if you know what you're doing. You lift someone's prints – from a paper cup, say, make a reverse latent, and from that strike a mould of the original print." Clarissa explains.
"In all but one respect?" Rankin repeats
"Fingerprints have to be left in something." Clarissa informs her. "Most of the time it's sweat – which means shed skin cells, which means..."
"DNA." Thomas finishes.
Clarissa nods. "I re-examined the thumbprint from the clock. No DNA."
Rankin just won't back down. "Even if she was duped into going after Roach, and I'm not convinced, what does it really prove?"
I really am in danger of losing my temper with her now – especially when she interrupts me again. "That we are dealing with someone who's forensically smart-"
"And Dr Alexander isn't!" she sneers.
The volume of my voice rises with my temper. "-who wanted to lure her to Roach for a very specific reason, like framing her for murder."
"At the very least, it's reasonable doubt." Thomas points out.
Rankin doesn't seem to pleased to have her case against Nikki thrown out, but even she can't deny the evidence now, and Nikki is release from prison. I drive to pick her up, happy to see her again – though I'm not at all happy when they still treat Nikki like a criminal upon her release.
"You're kidding me!" I grumble. "She said 'Don't leave town'?!"
Nikki is remarkably calm considering she's been locked in a cell all night. "She said. 'Don't leave the vicinity' " She points out.
"You can drive a horse and cart through 'vicinity'." I retort indignantly.
It's not until we get into the car that Nikki's relief at being more or less cleared shows. She sits still staring ahead of her for a minute and then turns to me.
"Thanks, Jack." She sighs gratefully.
"We're going to find out who did this to you." I tell her. "Don't worry – we are."
I suddenly realise that we're basically staring at each other and break my gaze by leaning to get her bag off the back seat.
"It's for you." I say, handing it to her. She smiles at me and takes the bag, before adjusting the mirror so she can put her earrings back in.
My phone rings and I take it out of my pocket. "Clarissa. You're on speaker. I've captured the fugitive."
A little smile creeps onto Nikki's lips.
"Nikki!" Clarissa answers cheerfully. "How are you?"
"I'm fine." Nikki states.
"Don't be brave." Clarissa complains sounding disappointed. "I want tears. I want war stories."
"I was in there 15 hours." Nikki reminds her. "It doesn't make me papillon."
"Lock me up for 15 seconds, I'd lose my marbles!" Clarissa decrees ferverently.
Nikki – as usual, is restless to get back to work. "Have you got something for us?" She asks Clarissa.
"For Jack." The answer comes back. "You're going home, obviously, like people do when they're released from prison."
I shake my head. Honestly, you'd think she'd know Nikki better than that by now.
"Clarissa!" Nikki protests.
Clarissa seems to get the message and says her piece to both of us. "The glass shard we think the killer disposed of at the scene, its actually polycarbonate."
Nikki looks at me with eager interest. "Any ideas of a likely source?"
"Well, it's a popular glass substitute in heavy duty work lamps." Clarissa suggests. "I'm sending a picture now."
Nikki's phone buzzes with a picture message as I hang up the call with Clarissa. "At St Stephen's church, builder's were doing restoration work, and using lamps just like that." She tells me opening the message.
I shake my head. "Father Dawes was cleared. Rock-solid alibi for Walsh's death."
"Well, how many other people use the church? And right next to it is where Walsh's support group met." She points out enthusiastically. "Got to be worth a shot."
True enough. If it is from those work lamps, it doesn't necessarily mean that Father Dawes is implicated.
"Ok, sure." I reply.
We are going to find out who did this to Nikki. We are.
We are.