Next suspect on my list was a Sidney Strine. He was Conwell's nephew, the son of his only sister Agnes. Agnes had moved to Australia twenty years ago, and had had no contact with Conwell since she left. She had died about five years ago. Strine had arrived from Australia earlier in the week.
JN: Hello, Mr. Strine.
SS: G'day, mate.
JN: So you are Conwell's nephew?
SS: Yes sir, that I am.
JN: Why have you decided to pop up so suddenly, eh?
SS: Wanted to come see dear Uncle Morrie. I haven't seen him since I was a little boy, and I do adore him so!
JN: When did you first come by to see your uncle?
SS: Yesterday afternoon. He was surprised to see me.
JN: Were you greeted warmly?
SS: Well...he opened the door... asked me who I was, and then proceeded to whistle for his eleven Rotweilers. But other than that there was no unpleasantness. We got along swell!
JN: I see.
SS: Did Uncle Morrie leave a will, just out of curiosity, Mr. Nibbler?
JN: No, he didn't have one.
SS: Is that so? Interesting, I had no idea.
JN: Stay in town, Sid, I may need to talk to you again.
I'd talked to the suspects. Now it was time to see if any of them had left evidence behind at the crime scene. But first I need to explain how I use DNA as evidence.
