The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(29)

‘You’re an intelligent man,’ Amy continued, listening to his ragged breathing. ‘If what you say about Dr Curtis is true, then it needs to be investigated. But you’ll lose all sympathy the second they hear you’ve kidnapped a four-year-old child. We can make a difference. But only if we help each other.’

‘I didn’t want any of this. But it would have been worth it if the truth about Dr Curtis came out.’

Amy picked up on the strain of resentment running through his words. He sounded serious. Was it really Luka on the line? It occurred to her that, if it wasn’t Luka, it was someone who had been through the same thing. Her muscles tensed as she recalled his letter. ‘You were kept captive, weren’t you? People . . .’ She paused, trying to work out where the hell she was going with this. ‘People don’t get it, do they? They think that, once you’re free, everything will be OK. But it’s not that easy. Sure, the door may be open now, but in your mind the walls are all around you and sometimes . . .’ Amy sighed. ‘Sometimes it feels safer that way.’ The words flowing from her mouth were the echo of a memory of when she was taken into care. Yes, she had wanted her parents’ killing spree to come to an end, but not for social care to tear her home apart. It was fear that had driven her to rebel against her parents. The only way to adjust was to lock away her memories. Memories that were now returning with frightening clarity.

Her caller’s silence told her she had hit a nerve.

‘It takes time to readjust to the real world,’ Amy continued. ‘Sights, smells, sounds – they all crowd in on you, and sometimes all you want to do is to go back to where you came from.’ Amy kept her gaze on the floor. She could imagine her colleagues’ puzzled expressions, their curiosity.

‘How . . . how do you know all this?’

‘Because I was like you once. Which is why we can’t do it to Ellen. None of this is her fault. Please, Luka, let her go.’ The use of the name was intentional. Until he told her otherwise, it was how she would address him from now on. She needed to establish a bond.

‘It’s what Mother wanted,’ Luka said faintly, before clearing his throat. ‘Be ready. You’re about to go on a journey. Wait for my call.’





CHAPTER TWENTY

Amy sat cocooned in her office with the blinds closed as she awaited Luka’s call. Her colleagues had questioned her use of his name, asked her if it was wise. But she knew their suspect’s actions were coming from a place of deep suffering. By addressing Luka’s issues, they might be able to move forward with the case. She drummed her fingers on her desk. It was impossible to concentrate, knowing that at any moment he might give her Ellen’s location. She checked the online system, working her way through the completed tasks to date. Safeguarding was imperative, and she set her team to track down Dr Curtis’s old colleagues. Had they read Adam’s lacklustre newspaper article? This had been Adam’s chance to put things right between them. How could he let her down again?

Amy stiffened as her mobile phone rang.

‘DI Winter,’ she said, holding her breath for a response.

‘It’s me, Adam. I’m in reception.’

Speak of the devil and he’s bound to appear, Amy thought. ‘I’m on my way,’ she said, before ending the call. Her time was limited, but she could not pass up the chance to tell him how annoyed she was that he had reneged on a promise yet again. As she left her office, she knew she should keep calm, but every time she closed her eyes she saw Ellen’s face. Adam’s failure to deliver could cost the little girl her life. It did not take Amy long to reach reception.

‘About time.’ Adam’s Italian accent sounded stronger than ever today. ‘I’m busy too, you know.’

‘In here.’ Amy led him into a side room. She had kept him waiting only minutes and sensed an undercurrent of aggression in his tone. The room was stuffy and windowless, the smell of stale sweat lingering in the air. It housed a wonky table with a piece of folded cardboard shoved under one leg, three chairs, and a computer used for taking statements when the need arose. Not that it would come into play now. Her fingers gripped the door handle as she closed it behind them. She was ready to deal with him quickly and get back to work.

A pang of sorrow rose in Amy’s chest. In the old days Adam had sometimes called in to see her under the pretence of work. More than once they had exchanged a stolen kiss in this very room before she sent him on his way. But he was the one who had been unfaithful, not her, she reminded herself.

‘Why didn’t you warn me the story wouldn’t make the front page?’ she said, the memory of his infidelity seeping bitterness into her words.

‘You should be thanking me,’ he replied. ‘You’re lucky it was published at all.’

‘It’s just a puff piece for Dr Curtis. It’s done more harm than good.’

‘Da che pulpito viene la predica! ’ Adam waved his arms in the air.

Amy felt a spike of annoyance. ‘If we’re going to argue, can we at least do it in a language I understand?’

‘You don’t get it, do you? I can’t print slander. There’s no evidence for those allegations. I couldn’t get it on the front page because the guy who wrote the letter is dead!’

‘I’m not sure he is,’ Amy retorted. ‘And if you’d answered your phone this morning, then at least I could have been prepared.’