The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(21)

Shirley cocked her head as a shriek emanated from a room above. Satisfied it was childish laughter, she sighed. ‘I suppose it’s why he latched on to Nicole. She was more pliable – I wouldn’t go along with his plans.’

‘And wife number two? What about her?’ Slipping out her pocket notebook, Amy scribbled down a few words as she listened intently to what Shirley had to say.

‘Paula was divorced as soon as he found out she was infertile. Watch yourself with him.’ Shirley threw her a wry smile. ‘If Nicole doesn’t recover, he’ll be on the hunt for wifey number four.’

‘You mentioned his plans,’ Amy said, refusing to be drawn into her domestics.

Shirley’s smile faded as she relayed the events of the past. ‘Hugh’s aim was to boost brain power and concentration skills to give children the best start in life. Have you read his work?’

Having no children of her own, Amy had never found the need. ‘No.’

‘That’s the official explanation you’ll find in his books.’ Shirley’s lips parted in a dark chuckle. ‘The truth is ugly, not fit for public consumption, and I’m in no position to rock the boat.’

Amy gave her a knowing look. ‘Is he helping you out financially?’

Shirley pursed her lips. It was answer enough.

‘Please,’ Amy said. ‘Off the record, if you like.’

Amy’s words provided Shirley with enough reassurance to go on. ‘Hugh . . . he was blinkered by ambition. He put the kids in the institution through hell to get results.’ She paused to sip her coffee, her eyes glazing over as she revisited the past. ‘He locked them away for months, put them through a barrage of tests. Those dorms were nothing more than prison cells.’

‘But why? I don’t understand,’ Amy said, struggling to grasp it all.

Shirley’s mouth eased into a sardonic smile. ‘Why does anyone do anything? For money, of course.’

‘Are you talking about the book deals? Television appearances? But those didn’t come until later on.’

‘You think he funded his lifestyle with a few book deals?’ Shirley said, then checked herself. Bit her bottom lip. ‘I’ve said too much. I’ve got no right to criticise him when he’s supported me all these years.’

The melody of a children’s TV show carried down from upstairs. Amy imagined Shirley as a young wife, married to Dr Curtis in the early years. Her thoughts held a question. ‘You said he treated your children like lab rats?’

Shirley delivered a slight nod of the head, her eyes locked on her mug. ‘Sometimes he used a kind of skull cap, with sensors attached. It was going on for ages before I found out. My son came crying to me one day, saying he didn’t want to play Daddy’s secret game anymore. You can imagine how I felt. At first I thought . . . Well, it’s safe to say that all hell broke loose.’ She paused as she gathered her thoughts. ‘Hugh said it was for measuring brainwave activity. He made them wear it when they were doing their homework. I couldn’t believe he used his own children like that.’

But it was all right to test other people’s kids? Amy shelved the thought as soon as it appeared. ‘Would your son be willing to speak to the police?’

Shirley paused as another giggle erupted upstairs. ‘I don’t know. He doesn’t talk to his father. My daughter’s due back tonight, though. She’ll be happy to help you, I’m sure.’

Amy nodded as Shirley continued speaking, making mental to-do notes.

‘I guess Nicole was prepared to sacrifice her child’s freedom in exchange for her lifestyle. But I don’t know . . . to deprive your child of a normal life is a terrible crime.’ Shirley cradled her coffee mug in her hands with a faraway look. ‘She approached me on the street a month ago, said that Hugh had some terrible secret. I told her I didn’t want to know.’

‘What kind of secret?’

Shirley shrugged. ‘She was acting odd. Jittery. It’s bad enough she’s spending all my children’s inheritance . . .’ She cleared her throat. Lowering her mug, her eyes went to the clock on the wall. ‘I should get back to the kids. Can we continue this another time?’

Amy glanced at a photo frame resting on a dresser in the kitchen. Pasta shells decorated the edges, pressed into putty then painted neon pink. The picture showed two blonde girls wearing wide smiles as they posed. ‘Ellen can’t be much older than your grandchildren. She must be terrified – if she’s still alive.’ But Amy’s efforts at emotional manipulation fell on deaf ears.

‘I’ve told you everything I know.’ Shirley rose from her chair, waiting for Amy to do the same.

Amy sighed. At least she had got a small insight into Shirley’s past life. ‘Thanks for the coffee. We’ll be in touch.’

‘He’s not a good man,’ Shirley continued as she followed her to the front door, ‘but he didn’t hurt his wife.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Amy’s movements stalled. She had never for a second suggested that he had.

‘Oh, come on now, it’s the obvious conclusion, isn’t it? What if she was gearing up to leave him? By getting rid of Nicole, he had Ellen for life – her kidnapping could have been a ruse to take the attention off him.’