The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(31)

As for Lillian . . . she was a woman who disgusted and intrigued him in equal measure. He could see how people became entangled in her web. When she demanded your attention it was impossible to say no. It was like driving past a car crash. You knew there was something grisly inside the wreckage, yet morbid curiosity made you feast your eyes on the carnage as you passed. It was why he had become a journalist.

He had expected Amy to crumble, to take him back with open arms. He had underestimated her. Since her father’s death she had reverted to who she’d been when they first met. That cold, hard exterior; her unflinching gaze.

His thoughts were interrupted by the light at the crossing as it signalled it was safe to go. Screw it, he thought, lowering his head against the rain. Plucking his phone from his jacket, he dialled his boss’s number. Tim had been in the industry for over thirty years and had the grey hairs to prove it. With an expanding waistline and a penchant for rich food, he was headed for a heart attack one day. Not that Adam helped ease his stress.

‘Where are you?’ Tim’s deep voice boomed over the line as he picked up the call. ‘And why haven’t you been answering your phone?’

Adam grimaced. It was Tim who had put the block on Luka’s letter, saying the whole thing was a ridiculous hoax. Adam might have agreed with him had he not witnessed Amy’s dogged determination. But his boss would not stay angry with him for long.

‘I’m on my way back,’ Adam said, a smile curling on his lips. ‘And have I got a story for you.’





CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Amy fixed her expression as Paddy met her halfway down the hall. The hint of cigarette smoke hung on his clothing, even though he was meant to have given up.

‘Luka’s called,’ he said, his steps quickening as he matched her pace.

‘What line is he on?’ The sound of Amy’s heels echoed across the narrow space.

‘He wouldn’t wait. Said you’re to go to Holland Park tube station and he’ll call you with Ellen’s whereabouts from there.’ Concern tightened his features. They were all under pressure to find Ellen safe and well.

‘Is there a unit in place?’ Amy’s thoughts were focused now, her spat with Adam forgotten.

‘A covert one. He was very clear – no police involvement. Ma’am Pike wants you to walk there in case a job car scares him off.’

‘Suits me.’ Amy would use the time to assemble her thoughts. As she reached her office, she tugged on her harness. It evenly distributed her radio, CS canister, handcuffs and extendable baton, all available at the flick of a clip. The old-fashioned term was ‘carrying her appointments’. Some officers housed them in their pockets or bags. Some, like Paddy, forgot them entirely. They would rest beneath her coat. Insurance for what lay ahead.

She was informed that arrangements had already been made. A small unit of plainclothes officers would follow her on her journey while Paddy and the team tracked her progress from the office. She prayed the meeting would be productive. The team were chasing every imaginable lead but were yet to come back with a result.

The drizzly weather reflected her mood as she strode to Holland Park, taking short, quick steps. Amy opened her umbrella to protect her hair. Worn loose, it skimmed past her shoulders in brunette waves, giving her less of a regimented look. She had given consideration to her appearance as she dressed this morning. If, by some stretch of the imagination, this was Luka, his problems stemmed from his time in a clinical environment. Her razor-sharp business suit with its white starched shirt was not the best attire to get him on her side. A soft floral blouse combined with a navy coat and matching trousers would do the trick. Her shoes were flat in case she had to give chase. It may have seemed like overkill, given it could be a hoax, but Amy’s instincts told her differently. The Curtis family had been singled out, and no demands for money had been made. It seemed obvious that the suspect’s actions were born from revenge. Unlike Amy’s biological parents, she guessed Luka did not kill for the sake of it, but his acts could clearly be brutal nonetheless.

Despite the puddles and rolling grey clouds, Holland Park Avenue was a pleasant wintry walk. The tree-lined street housed some impressive properties, and celebrities such as David and Victoria Beckham had taken up residence there. With its domed windows and pale brick walls, Holland Park tube station was in keeping with its upmarket surroundings. Retracting her umbrella, Amy focused her thoughts on the job ahead. Standing at the traffic lights, she monitored pedestrians as they passed. Was this a trap? A diversion? Or just a wild goose chase?

But Luka’s comments about Ellen had rung true. The colour of her nightdress, the fact that her spectacles had been taken but her slippers left behind. His thoughts on animal fur were another branch of the investigation being pursued. She checked her watch as speckles of drizzle dappled its face. Two minutes past nine. Should she go inside? But her phone signal would inevitably be lost. Relaxing her posture, she reminded herself that she was being watched. Not just by Luka. Her colleagues were relying on her to get this right.

The vibration of her phone was welcome as it alerted her to a call. Lowering her head, she blotted out the world as she accepted the blocked number.

‘Where are you?’ It was the man claiming to be Luka, his voice tinged with the same faint Russian accent as before.

‘Holland Park tube station,’ Amy said, not missing a beat. He sounded more assertive this time, focused. It felt as if the dice had been thrown and there was no backing out now.