Nick and Warrick walked purposely through the door and sat down with their files in front of Thomas Jamieson.

"Do you mind if we tape this interview?" Warrick asked as he opened the file.

Jamieson shrugged, and nodded.

"Sir, do you know the park at the end of Winch road?" Nick asked.

"I think so. There's a bus stop at one end of it."

"Yes," Nick confirmed, "Were you there last night?"

"I couldn't say. I go there sometimes; it's a good bus to catch to the Library. I may have been yesterday," Jamieson answered suavely.

"We found your DNA on a piece of rope which we found in the park about 10 o'clock last night," Warrick told him coolly.

"Well, then I was there sometime before you found the rope," Jamieson said.

Nick and Warrick both knew that it was too cool for them to back into a corner. And the evidence they had was too thin on its own.

"Your wife?" Nick asked suddenly abandoning the questioning.

Thomas Jamieson didn't blink. But he did relax for a moment before he became suspicious again.

"What about her?" he asked.

"Could you describe her?"

"Tall," he said. "She was very graceful. She had a gorgeous laugh when she was happy," he got caught up in his reminiscence. "I couldn't see her hair in the dark. If I woke up during the night I wouldn't be able to see her sometimes because her hair would just cover her face. I thought she was still there even when she left because I knew that sometimes I couldn't see her."

"When did she leave?" Warrick asked his voice sympathetic. As if he had been moved by the story.

Jamieson shrugged sadly, "About twelve years ago. We lasted ten years. Ten whole years. I was so happy. I thought she was, too. I mean, she said she was leaving a couple of times. But I always convinced her that she didn't want to."

Sara watched Thomas Jamieson's face carefully, with a sick fascination. If he was early fifties now, than, seven years ago, he was in his mid forties. As old as Grissom was now. The thought sent a chill through her spine. Her eyes widened as if she was afraid. 'And this bastard convinced his wife she didn't want to leave, the bastard,' she though, unaware of the tautology. It began to make her weak. She knew she would start to feel sick soon.

"You keep her perfume?" Nick asked. He followed Warrick's lead of sympathy to get the guys barriers down.

"Yes. I like to be reminded of her," Jamieson admitted sadly, "As painful as it is."

"I'm not familiar with perfume," Warrick said, "Is it an unusual scent?"

"Oh, yes. Janine was always very particular with her tastes. She was lovely; everywhere we went people loved her. I felt so lucky when she agreed to be mine."

It was a simple phrase, and one used in that context without any hint of the literal meaning. But Sara could see in his eyes that he felt he had owned her.

She felt so sick she almost threw up again. Her anger at this man helped her maintain her composure. She was done with him now. She realised that she had got what had happened to her out of her system. She was sick at him, not at what he had done to her. She hated him, but it wasn't personal now. It was a feeling of freedom. As if she had realised that the door to her cage was no longer locked. As she was no longer on the case, Sara left the observation room before she could take out her gun and shoot Thomas Jamieson through the glass.

Nick and Warrick worked carefully with their suspect. They eventually got him to admit that he missed his wife all the time. That he never forgot how she had looked when they were first married and that he sometimes thought he saw her in the streets.

"She just left," he said, wallowing in self pity. "She wouldn't acknowledge me at all. She refused to talk to me at all. I would have put things right, if she had told me what was wrong. I was so angry with her. But you've got to believe me it was because she didn't even to turn around, like she didn't recognise me. I couldn't hurt her, I couldn't, but it wasn't her when she was like that. My Janine was so loving and cheerful, she could never say no to me."

He smiled proudly. Nick was looking at him with unabashed shock and Warrick was ready to punch him.

"Were you in Winch road or the park last night around ten o'clock?"

"No," Jamieson said shortly.

"We found your DNA on a piece of rope in the park at that time," Warrick told him, reading off the notes.

"It could have got there any time," Jamieson said. He was tense, still, but he was answering with a strong measure of poise.

"It had been used to tie a woman to a tree."

"Any one could do that with a piece of rope."

"We found your saliva along the rope indicating that you had tired the woman up."

"What says I did anything?" Jamieson asked. His self confidence, or his ability to lie to himself in face of the evidence had convinced him that he was safe. Warrick answered the question.

"We have a piece of rope and proof that you used it to tie up a woman who was then raped. She resembled your ex-wife, whom you say left you and you were angry at. The crime scene included the strong scent of an unusual perfume that you had in you house and which belonged to your wife. And we have another victim of a similar crime who was willing to make a statement seven years ago."

"And she recognises your wife's perfume as the perfume you were wearing when you raped her," Nick added.

Thomas Jamieson looked shocked. He really had done well to disguise himself, Nick thought. And perhaps with the threats he had made this woman would have come forward. She may have gone home and washed the whole thing off her. Nick admired Sara's courage for giving a statement. He watched Jamieson and thought about he was going to tell Sara that her friend had told him.

"I know," she had said.

He shook his head at his own density in not realising what she meant. For not realising that he'd given himself away. But at least she understood.

Their 'suspect' seemed to take Nick's head shaking as a sign of something. He knew that he hadn't really said much in the interview. Being upset over your wife leaving was hardly motive for any crime. He looked straight back at Nick with a sneer.

"I want my lawyer here now."

Warrick closed the file and stood up.

"Sure thing," he said.

Nick grinned cheekily at Jamieson as he stood up.

"You can arrest him for the rape of Pauline Hauser," he told the officer at the door, without taking his eyes from the old man's.

He was going to find the names of the other victims to add to the list.

He and Warrick waited outside while they took Thomas Jamieson away. Warrick gave Nick a questioning look.

"What?" Nick asked.

"The perfume?" Warrick clarified his question.

Nick nodded slowly. Warrick put the pieces together in his head and looked worriedly at the door to the observation room. Nick reached the door first. He knocked to give Sara some warning and opened it when he heard nothing. One glance showed him the room was empty.