Novel.09.Perfect.Match.2002 by Picoult Jodi

Author:Picoult, Jodi [Picoult, Jodi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0100-12-31T22:00:00+00:00

Perfect Match

SIX

And just like that, I have fallen back into my former life. The three of us s it around the breakfast table, like any other family. With his finger, Nathan iel traces the letters in the headline of the morning paper. “M,” he says qui etly. “0, M . . .” Over my coffee cup, I look at the photograph. There I am, holding Nathaniel, Caleb at my side. Fisher, somehow, has managed to get his face in the picture too. In the distance, a few steps behind, is Patrick; I r ecognize him only by his shoes. Across the top, in screaming black letters: m ommy.

Caleb takes Nathaniel's empty cereal bowl away as he runs off into the playro om, where he has set up two armies of plastic dinosaurs for a Jurassic war. I glance at the paper. “I'm the poster child for bad parenting,” I say.

“Beats being the local Maine murderess.” He nods to the table. “What's in t he envelope?”

The manila mailer is the interoffice kind, tied shut with red floss. I found it stuffed between the Local and Sports sections of the paper. I flip it over, bu t there is no return address, no marking of any kind.

Inside is a report from the state lab, the kind of chart I have seen before. A table with results in eight columns, each a different location on human DNA . And two rows of numbers that are identical at every single spot. Conclusions: The DNA profile detected on the underpants is consistent with the DNA profile of Szyszynski. As a result, he cannot be eliminated as a po ssible contributor of the genetic material detected in this stain. The chan ces of randomly selecting an unrelated individual who matches the genetic material found in the underwear are greater than one in six billion, which is approximately th e world population.

Or in English: Father Szyszynski's semen was found on my son's underwear .

Caleb peers over my shoulder. “What's that?”

“Absolution,” I sigh.

Caleb takes the paper from my hands, and I point to the first row of numb ers. “This shows the DNA from Szyszynski's blood sample. And the line bel ow it shows the DNA from the stain on the underpants.”

“The numbers are the same.”

“Right. DNA is the same all over your body. That's why, if the cops arrest a rapist, they draw blood-can you imagine how ridiculous it would be to ask t he guy to give a semen sample? The idea is, if you can match the suspect's b lood DNA to evidence, you're almost guaranteed a conviction.” I look up at h im. “It means that he did it, Caleb. He was the one. And . . .” My voice tra ils off.

“And what?”

“And I did the right thing,” I finish.

Caleb puts the paper facedown on the table and gets up.

“What?” I challenge.

He shakes his head slowly. "Nina, you didn't do the right thing. You said it yourself. If you match the DNA in the suspect's blood to the evidence, you'

re guaranteed a conviction.

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