The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(32)

‘Good,’ Luka replied. ‘I googled you . . . You’re quite a celebrity, although you shy away from the media as much as you can. Tell me, Amy . . . I can call you Amy, can’t I?’

‘I’d prefer it if you did.’ Amy was keen to dispense with titles to keep him on side. The fact he was researching online could mean he was bonding with her in some way.

‘Why are you drawn to such serious cases when you’re uncomfortable with the attention they bring?’

Amy inhaled deeply, the smell of the streets grounding her as she prepared her response. She had been prepped for this phone call. No pressure. Refer to him as Luka if that’s what he wants, and allow him to lead the way.

‘I don’t think of the media when I’m helping victims,’ she answered honestly. A lorry rattled past and she strained to listen to the call. ‘Where’s Ellen? Is she with you? I need proof she’s alive.’ She wanted to ask if Luka was connected to Nicole’s poisoning, but their police negotiator had been firm in his instruction: keep the focus entirely on the child.

‘It comes down to justification,’ Luka mused, ignoring her question. ‘You justify hunting me down because you believe it’s the right thing to do. I justify my actions because I have no choice. We are all justified by our wants and needs. Who’s to say my reasons aren’t just as valid as yours?’

‘The law,’ Amy replied flatly, her patience running thin.

‘And you think your law is always right all of the time? Even if it fails to protect those who need it the most?’

‘I presume you brought me here for a reason.’ She was taking a risk but was unwilling to waste another minute debating on the street.

‘I’m also a victim of crime,’ her caller replied. ‘The problem is that nobody cares about me. And now the criminal is being rewarded. The accolades, the awards . . . have you seen Dr Curtis’s house?’ An edge sharpened in his voice. ‘He gets all of that, while I live in a box.’

‘Did you try to kill his wife?’ The words left Amy’s lips before she could contain them.

‘I gave her a choice: risk her life for the one she loved. Something not afforded to me.’

Amy frowned. What was he talking about? ‘If Nicole risked her life to save Ellen, then surely her daughter should be returned?’

‘And she will be.’ Luka’s reply was instant. ‘Whether she’s found alive . . . that’s up to you.’

Found alive? Amy thought. Does that mean he’s already left her somewhere? ‘Then what’s the next step?’ She eyed a man in a baseball cap reading a newspaper on the corner by the tube station. He’d been staring at that same page since she arrived. Briefly, their eyes met. She exhaled a breath. He was one of theirs. She returned her attention to the call as the kidnapper’s voice filtered through.

‘I want you to take a walk in my shoes, a trip through my memories, so you fully understand. If I have to kidnap a child to catch your attention, then so be it.’ A humourless chuckle ensued. ‘It’s ironic, given all the children that Dr Curtis used over the years.’

‘His wife could have died, and his child is missing. I see nothing to laugh about.’ Amy’s response was curt. She’d had enough of his teasing. ‘What you’re doing . . . you might think it will help, but it won’t. I know what you’re experiencing. Guilt. Depression. Anger. I know because I’ve been through them myself.’ Silence passed as her words sank in. ‘I can help you get through this, but only if you let Ellen go.’

A beat passed between them. ‘Mother told me you’d do this. Try to make me turn myself in . . . You think it’s been easy? Having that kid touch my things . . . in my space.’

But it was his comments about his mother that made Amy’s eyebrows shoot up. He was talking about Sasha in the present tense, not the past. ‘Mother? You mean Sasha’s alive? How—’

‘Take the tube to Westminster and go to Big Ben,’ Luka interrupted. ‘I’ll ring you when you arrive.’

Amy noted the word ‘arrive’. Did that mean he was already there? ‘Why Big Ben?’ she said, trying to squeeze out more information.

‘It was my first day trip to London. Mama lived for those days when Dr Curtis took us sightseeing. But nobody knew of the darkness behind it all.’

‘Sexual abuse?’

‘Of course not,’ Luka replied, as if the very idea was preposterous. ‘Hurry. The tube’s coming in, and you haven’t got long.’

‘Is your mother with you now? Can I talk to her?’

‘Don’t.’ Luka’s tone hardened. ‘You’re not fit to speak her name.’

Amy took a deep breath. For now, the topic of his mother was out of bounds. She remembered the advice she had been given – to keep her focus on the child. ‘When I get to Big Ben . . . then you’ll tell me where Ellen is?’

‘Think of it as a treasure hunt,’ Luka replied. ‘But this one comes with a timer. So you’d better hurry up if you want to reach Ellen alive.’





CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ellen’s kidnapper exhaled the breath he had been holding. The call had gone better than he had thought it would. He had not expected to develop a connection with the detective and it had taken him off guard. Walking the pavement, he turned his face to the sky, feeling better now that Ellen had vacated his room. When he’d first made contact with Dr Curtis and his staff, he had never imagined things would escalate like this. The yearly flowers and messages were meant to be as far as it went. But then, every time he turned on his television he would see Dr Curtis’s smarmy face. If he wasn’t gloating about his many books, he was talking about his awards. It was obvious the flowers and veiled threats were having no impact at all. Something needed to be done.