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be explained as mere coincidence. The diabetes, the fact that Gavin’s brother Bobby was a plasterer and Gavin had been known to borrow Bobby’s van when his own was off the road (it’s worth stressing at this point that Bobby always flatly denied having lent Gavin his van on the dates of the attacks, though it was impossible to prove that one way or the other).

There was one further piece of evidence the police had, which they believed was compelling, but the law as it stood at the time prevented them using it in court. This was the fact that Gavin had been questioned about the attack on Paula, the 16-year-old girl we talked about in Episode 2, who’d been assaulted in Manchester before the Roadside Rapes began.

But even if that fact couldn’t be brought up in court, it was still hugely significant in Gavin’s case. Why? Because as soon as Thames Valley found out about Paula, they basically stopped looking for anyone else. As far as they were concerned, Gavin committed eight attacks: one in Manchester and seven in Oxford.

In their minds, it all fitted: the identical MOs, the fact that Gavin had been living in both cities at the relevant times, even the Oxford rapist’s use of a plastic bag – the police theory was that having narrowly escaped being identified by Paula, Gavin started putting plastic bags over his victims’ faces, to make sure it didn’t happen again.

But we at The Whole Truth believe they were wrong. More than that, we believe they failed. They failed Gavin Parrie and his family, especially his children, who’ve grown up without their dad. They failed the public; and most importantly they failed the victims. Like all the country’s police forces, Thames Valley CID have a duty to investigate serious and violent crimes ‘effectively, independently and promptly’, as confirmed by the UK Supreme Court earlier this year, in relation to the infamous John Worboys ‘black cab rapist’ case. And, in our opinion, Thames Valley simply did not do that in Gavin’s case.

Back in 1999, Gavin Parrie was convinced that the crucial evidence against him had been planted, and he’d been framed. He told anyone who would listen that he was telling the truth, but no one believed him.

They do now.

And in the next episode we’ll tell you why.

[UNDER BED OF ‘TIME FOR TRUTH’ – THE JAM]

I’m Jocelyn Naismith and this is Righting the Wrongs. You can listen to this and other podcasts from The Whole Truth on Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts.

[FADE OUT]

* * *

Alex’s heart is pounding, drumming so hard against her ribcage she feels bruised from the inside. Even in her overactive middle-of-the-night paranoia, she’d never thought it could be as bad as this. She gets up and starts pacing the small room, feeling a surge of hatred for Jocelyn Naismith – this woman who thinks she has the answer, who wants the truth, who just tramples about in other people’s lives, other people’s pain, not knowing or caring what wreckage she might leave behind. The baby bumps and shifts fretfully against her; she feels like she’s pumping poisonous adrenaline into her own child.

She sits back heavily on the bed, and reaches for her tablet to check when the next episode is due. Three days – three days? – she can’t wait that long, can’t not know that long. And why did it have to be now, of all times? When she can’t talk to Adam, can’t ask him what to do –

She puts a hand to her mouth, pushing down a sudden panic. How often has she heard her husband say there’s no such thing as coincidence – not in policework. What if the timing isn’t random at all?

* * *

‘Say that again?’

The team are gathered round the whiteboard. Not just Ev now, but Gis, Quinn, Baxter, Asante.

‘I was looking through Tobin Fisher’s colouring book,’ says Somer. ‘He’s doing a picture of St George and the Dragon. And he’s not doing the dragon in green, like he’s supposed to. He’s doing it in red.’ She points at the photo on the board. ‘Exactly like that.’

‘Coincidence?’ offers Asante.

‘No such thing,’ says Ev. ‘That’s what the boss always says.’

There’s the smallest of pauses, an ebb of time in which they all think the same thing, see the same face, then deal with it and move on.

‘So the question,’ says Gis thoughtfully, ‘is how Tobin could have known about Caleb Morgan’s tattoo.’

Baxter shrugs. ‘Perhaps Morgan took him swimming? I mean, he babysat him a lot, didn’t he. It’s not impossible.’

‘Or perhaps he mowed the lawn,’ says Quinn. ‘Easy to see him getting his top off in this weather –’

‘Marina Fisher doesn’t have a lawn,’ says Asante quietly. ‘The garden is paved.’

Quinn folds his arms and frowns. He hates being corrected, especially by Asante.

‘We can check the swimming thing easily enough,’ says Everett.

‘But what if it’s not that?’ asks Somer, looking round at the others. ‘What if Morgan never went near a swimming pool with Tobin? Because if that’s the case –’

There’s a silence; it doesn’t need spelling out.

‘But it doesn’t tally, does it?’ says Baxter eventually. ‘Morgan never said anything about them getting their kit off that night – in fact, he said quite explicitly that they didn’t.’

‘So,’ begins Gis, ‘either the boy saw the tattoo some other time –’

‘And recently,’ says Somer quickly. ‘He’s only halfway through that picture – it has to be within the last week.’

‘– or Caleb Morgan is lying about what happened during the alleged assault. After also conveniently failing to tell us about the incident with Freya on the doorstep –’

He doesn’t finish the sentence. He doesn’t need to.

Ev turns to him. ‘But that was a lie by omission not commission. It’s not the same. He’d have every reason not to mention he’d pushed Freya, but why lie about the sexual assault? What’s in it for him?’

Gis looks blank. ‘Search me.’

‘It’s on the Welsh flag, though, isn’t it? The red dragon?’ says Asante.