The Third Twin by Ken Follett

hard at Lisa. “In seven to ten days’ time, the man who raped you will put another woman through the same torture—unless we catch him first.”
    “Oh, my God,” Lisa said.
    Jeannie could see where Mish was heading. As Jeannie had anticipated, the detective was going to try to talk Lisa into helping with the investigation. Jeannie was still determined not to let Mish bully or pressure Lisa. But it was hard to object to the kinds of things she was saying now.
    “We need a sample of his DNA,” Mish said.
    Lisa made a disgusted face. “You mean his sperm.”
    “Yes.”
    Lisa shook her head. “I’ve showered and taken a bath and douched myself. I hope to God there’s nothing left of him inside me.”
    Mish was quietly persistent. “Traces remain in the body for forty-eight to seventy-two hours afterward. We need to do a vaginal swab, a pubic hair combing, and a blood test.”
    Jeannie said: “The doctor we saw at Santa Teresa yesterday was a real asshole.”
    Mish nodded. “Doctors hate dealing with rape victims. If they have to go to court, they lose time and money. But you should never have been taken to Santa Teresa. That was one of McHenty’s many mistakes. Three hospitals in this city are designated Sexual Assault Centers, and Santa Teresa isn’t one of them.”
    Lisa said: “Where do you want me to go?”
    “Mercy Hospital has a Sexual Assault Forensic Examination unit. We call it the SAFE unit.”
    Jeannie nodded. Mercy was the big downtown hospital.
    Mish went on: “You’ll see a sexual assault nurse examiner, who is always a woman. She’s specially trained in dealing with evidence, which the doctor you saw yesterday was not—he would probably have screwed up anyway.”
    Mish clearly did not have much respect for doctors.
    She opened her briefcase. Jeannie leaned forward, curious. Inside was a laptop computer. Mish lifted the lid and switched it on. “We have a program called E-FIT, for Electronic Facial Identification Technique. We like acronyms.” She gave a wry smile. “Actually it was devised by a Scotland Yard detective. It enables us to put together a likeness of the perpetrator, without using an artist.” She looked expectantly at Lisa.
    Lisa looked at Jeannie. “What do you think?”
    “Don’t feel pressured,” Jeannie said. “Think about yourself. You’re entitled. Do what makes you feel comfortable.”
    Mish shot her a hostile glare, then said to Lisa: “There’s no pressure on you. If you want me to leave, I’m out of here. But I’m asking you. I want to catch this rapist, and I need your help. Without you, I don’t stand a chance.”
    Jeannie was lost in admiration. Mish had dominated and controlled the conversation ever since she walked into the room, yet she had done it without bullying or manipulation. She knew what she was talking about, and she knew what she wanted.
    Lisa said: “I don’t know.”
    Mish said: “Why don’t you take a look at this computer program? If it upsets you, we’ll stop. If not, I will at least have a picture of the man I’m after. Then, when we’re done with that, you can think about whether you want to go to Mercy.”
    Lisa hesitated again, then said: “Okay.”
    Jeannie said: “Just remember, you can stop any time you feel upset.”
    Lisa nodded.
    Mish said: “To begin, we’ll get a rough approximation of his face. It won’t look like him, but it will be a basis. Then we’ll refine the details. I need you to concentrate hard on the perpetrator’s face, then give me a general description. Take your time.”
    Lisa closed her eyes. “He’s a white man about my age. Short hair, no particular color. Light eyes, blue, I guess. Straight nose …”
    Mish was operating a mouse. Jeannie got up and stood behind the detective so she could see the screen. It was a Windows program. In the top right-hand corner was a face divided into eight sections. As Lisa named features, Mish would click on a section of the face, pulling down a menu,