Breaking Point by John Macken Read Free Book Online

that the heavens had just opened; that he had got wet; that he should have brought an umbrella. Three points conveying a single useful piece of information: that it was raining. And since she had become the unit commander, things had got even worse. Her silence encouraged further reiteration, more of the same described in slightly different ways by junior officers scared to death of gaps in conversation.
    The one exception was Forensics. They were different. Forensics usually cut straight to the chase, numbers and facts offered just the once on a take-it-or-leave-it basis. Sarah liked this, and when scientists discussed their findings she listened to every word. The same was usually true for Mina, but now Mina wasn’t discussing profiling data or pattern matching. She was trying to make a general point. Sarah continued to nod, and tuned back in to what she was saying.
    ‘So, as I say, it’s continuing to grow.’
    One, Sarah counted.
    ‘The Negatives gets larger every day.’
    Two.
    ‘We’re putting more and more profiles into it all the time.’
    Three. It was amazing. You could almost set your watch by other people’s repetition.
    ‘Go on,’ she said.
    ‘I’ve totted it up. Just a rough count. There are almost thirty-six thousand profiles on it.’
    ‘Where from?’
    ‘All over. I mean, think what happens to all the punters we test who get excluded. Not the ones who are charged, later found innocent and still get shoved on the National DNA Database.’
    Sarah sighed with practised irritation. ‘You’re not going all civil liberties on me?’
    ‘I’m talking about the ones we’ve taken from mass screening, just to narrow the field. You know, fifty here, a hundred there, maybe three or four hundred sometimes. You put that together over a few years …’
    ‘It’s small fry compared with the four million punters on the National DNA Database, but I suppose it adds up,’ Sarah conceded. ‘I thought there was a Forensic Science Service directive about this sort of thing.’
    ‘There is – we’re supposed to get rid of them.’
    ‘How quickly?’
    ‘It depends where they’ve come from and whether an investigation is ongoing or subject to appeal or whatever. I’m just saying we should be a bit more efficient at deleting these things.’
    ‘I guess so.’ Sarah glanced at her monitor as a fresh batch of emails lined up in chronological order. ‘Although we have bigger fish to fry at the moment than worrying about a few left-over profiles.’
    ‘You’re right. But …’
    ‘What?’
    Sarah watched Mina intently. Mina did her trick of rubbing her eyes beneath her glasses, her fingers magnified momentarily, her movements tired and jerky.
    ‘I’m concerned that these samples have been accessed.’
    ‘Accessed?’
    ‘Trawled through.’
    ‘And we’re not allowed to do that?’
    ‘Technically no. I just noticed when I was showing the new guy where everything is.’
    ‘Any other explanations?’
    ‘People could be checking back through things, I suppose.’
    ‘And who has been doing this?’
    ‘I don’t know. All I can see from looking is that a fair number of files look like they have been pulled.’ Mina peered hard at her, and Sarah held the look. ‘Has there been an IT reorganization that I’m not aware of?’
    Sarah reached forward and ran her fingers along the leaf of a spider plant on her desk. She noticed for the first time that the leaf tip was brown , as if it was about to start slowly dying on her. She glanced around the office. The death of greenery in this room seemed to be a recurrent event. ‘You’d have to ask them. But I don’t think so.’
    ‘So how could a database change its location?’
    Sarah glanced back at Mina, gauging her body language. ‘What are you saying?’
    ‘Just that the Negatives folder isn’t where it used to be.’
    ‘Are you sure?’
    Mina paused. Sarah noted a hint of uncertainty in her face, a hesitancy, a flicking of the eyes to another location