Tony Hill u Carol Jordan 08 - Cross and Burn

to talk about what had happened, he managed to free one arm from its restraints and he punched me in the face. My nose was bleeding copiously and I left the room to get it stopped and cleaned up.’
    Carol gave the barest of nods. ‘I remember you telling me about it.’
    He looked straight at her. ‘You know how clumsy I am, Carol. I stumbled out into the corridor and through a set of swing doors, not really looking where I was going, paper towels up to my face. And I crashed into a woman coming the other way. She put her arm up to protect herself.’ He closed his eyes, replaying the scene. ‘I’m pretty sure it was her left arm. I apologised. She said, no harm done and went on her way.’ He opened his eyes. ‘She was a pharmaceutical rep, right? That’s what it said in the paper. So she had a reason to be there.’ It sounded thin. Artificial. Even to his ears. But that was often the way with the truth.
    ‘You bumped into a woman a year ago when you were having a nosebleed? And she still has your DNA on her sleeve?’ Scott sounded almost amused, as if this was the most outrageous attempt at exoneration she’d ever heard.
    ‘I’m just telling you what happened.’
    ‘You think she went a year without having her work clothes cleaned? Without realising she had your blood on her jacket?’
    ‘All I know is what happened. Now I’ve had my memory jogged, it’s quite clear.’
    Carol’s investigative instincts cut in. ‘Was the incident logged in the Bradfield Moor accident book?’
    ‘It will have been,’ Tony said. ‘Because I needed an ice pack from the nursing team.’
    ‘We need to check that date and then we need to cross-check it with Nadia Wilkowa’s work diary,’ Carol said, tapping a note into her phone. ‘I’ll chase that up with Paula.’ He loved watching her doing what she’d always done best.
    ‘It’s a pity there’s no way of telling how old the DNA sample is. That would have resolved it on the spot,’ Scott added.
    ‘Even more of a pity that the blood ended up on something that gets dry-cleaned rather than shoved in the washing machine. If it had been through the hot wash a dozen times, it would be so degraded it would be obvious that it wasn’t made this week,’ Carol pointed out, not to be outdone in the DNA knowledge stakes.
    ‘Next time, I’ll aim for the blouse. So you think we can demolish the DNA evidence if we can prove the nosebleed incident?’
    ‘It gives reasonable doubt a helluva knock, that’s for sure,’ Scott said. ‘Was that it, then? Was that all she had?’
    Tony shook his head sorrowfully. ‘Then there’s the thumbprint.’
    Carol closed her eyes momentarily as if in pain. ‘What thumbprint, Tony? I thought you said you wore gloves at her flat?’
    ‘No, not on Nadia’s stuff. My thumbprint is on Bev’s phone.’ He tried the pitiful puppy smile again. This time, both women scowled at him. ‘I was completely baffled when they interviewed me about it earlier. Clueless. I’ve no recollection of ever clapping eyes on Bev in the flesh, never mind touching her phone.’
    ‘Was it a clear print?’ Scott asked.
    Tony shook his head. ‘It was a bit smudged on one side and a bit distorted by the shape of the phone. But when Fielding showed it to me, I could see the points of similarity.’
    ‘Can you remember how many points of comparison were highlighted?’
    ‘I think it was six.’
    Scott smiled. ‘I’m not worried about a fingerprint ID like that. I can put up half a dozen experts who’ll discredit it. These days, unless you get a crystal-clear fingermark on a flat surface, you can knock the feet from under any prosecution expert witness. Fingerprint comparison is so subjective it’s not even regarded as a science any more. All you have to say in court these days is “Shirley McKie” then watch the prosecution shrivel and die.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ Tony said. ‘Who’s Shirley McKie?’
    ‘She was a Scottish police officer. Her fingerprint was wrongly identified inside a murder scene where she swore she’d never been. The Scottish forensic experts stuck to their guns and she was charged with perjury,’ Carol explained. ‘And then it all fell apart. Turns out that while it’s true all fingerprints are unique, identifying them is riddled with human error.’
    ‘So we can kick their fingerprint evidence right into the long grass,’ Scott said. ‘It’s history.’
    ‘That’s good,’ Tony said. ‘Because as it