The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(38)

‘Sam,’ the boy said, making a parping sound as he blew his nose. ‘I hate this place.’

‘Me too,’ Luka said, the words hanging heavy on his breath. None of them was there for fun. ‘What’s the doc so happy about?’

‘I passed some dumb tests,’ Sam replied flatly. ‘I couldn’t do them before. Now they’re easy.’ He scratched his temple. The faint outline of a sucker was still visible on his skin. The right side of his face jerked upwards in an involuntary twitch.

Luka hated wearing the hat that was the prerequisite for the algebra tests. ‘It’s for studying your brainwaves,’ Deborah had told him last week when she slipped it on. The white cloth cap was covered with circular pads and had a chin strap to keep it in place. Tiny wires connected to a bigger cable which fed into a computer port. But when Deborah started sticking the pads to the side of his face, Luka had baulked. ‘It’s all right,’ she had said, her voice warm. But her words were a betrayal. She would say anything to get him to comply.

‘The other kids . . . they’ve all gone home.’ Sam’s words cut into his thoughts. ‘The workshops are finishing this week too.’

‘Really?’ Hope lit Luka’s face like a beacon. ‘Maybe they’ll let us go too.’

‘I don’t have nowhere to go.’ Sam lifted his sleeve, displaying his ‘Number 4’ tattoo. ‘You got one of these?’

Tentatively, Luka drew back his sleeve to show that he did.

Sam delivered a narrow smile. ‘Then you ain’t going nowhere either.’

Luka’s mind raced. What did he mean? Didn’t the other kids have numbers too? He was about to ask when Sam’s face contorted in pain. Rubbing his chest, Sam groaned at the sight of the woman bustling through the door.

Christina’s presence put an end to their snatched conversation. A small, stick-thin woman, her eyes were wide as she entered the room. A flash of red drew Luka’s attention. Christina painted her nails a different colour each week. So sterile was Luka’s environment that he found himself looking forward to the change. But red signalled a warning, and Christina seemed in no mood to talk as she pulled Sam from his chair.

‘C’mon, I’m behind schedule,’ she said, her face pinched as she pushed him out of the door. Sam tripped over his feet, his hand still planted on his chest. Christina hadn’t even noticed he was unwell.

Why had they sent all the other kids home but not them? What did the markings mean? Luka watched him leave, feeling even more nauseous than before.





CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Tuning into the private police channel, Amy raised a query about the building works taking place. ‘What’s going on at the car park? There are contractors everywhere.’ Welbeck Street car park was a stunning piece of architecture, its facade made up of concrete diamonds which demanded each passer-by’s attention. But inside, the building was dark and dingy, a neglected space into which few would venture alone. Amy rarely parked there because of the number of break-ins reported. She had not realised it was closed to the public due to construction.

‘I was just about to call you.’ Molly’s reply was instant. ‘It’s being demolished today. They’re knocking it down to build a hotel. We’re trying to call the site manager now.’

‘That’s it!’ Amy said, recalling Luka’s words. Her whole world is about to come tumbling down. Sprinting towards the building, Amy shouted a warning at the top of her lungs. Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out her warrant card, knowing her colleagues were not far behind. ‘Stop what you’re doing!’ she screamed. ‘There’s a child inside!’

A broad man in a fluorescent sleeveless vest and hard hat ambled towards the plastic fence that had been erected to keep the public at bay. ‘Sorry, love, but you’re not coming through. We’ve cleared the building. There’s no one inside.’

Amy ground her back teeth in response to his condescension. It was often a by-product of being female and five foot two inches high. Would he have reacted the same way if one of her male colleagues had instructed him to stop? ‘It’s Detective Inspector, actually,’ she said, ignoring his attempt to halt her entry. ‘Tell your men to put a stop to this now.’ Darting past him, she squeezed through the fence and approached the building where demolition had already begun. Any minute now a wrecking ball could come hurtling towards her, or perhaps an explosion of TNT? But such warnings were whispers in the back of her mind as she searched for the four-year-old child.

‘Get back! It’s gonna come down! Get the fuck back from there!’ The air was peppered with swear words as workmen on the periphery waved in response to her presence. But Amy was too wrapped up in finding the little girl to stop now.

‘Ellen!’ she shouted, craning her neck left and right. ‘Ell—’ The force of the blast that followed knocked her off her feet, spewing rubble in the air. Amy coughed to clear her airways as she inhaled a lungful of concrete dust. One of the giant concrete pillars had come down. Radios communicated the news between workers and the on-site machinery fell silent. The dust filtered up Amy’s nostrils, tasting chalky on her tongue. Shaking, she rose to her feet. ‘Ellen,’ she choked, blinking furiously as she tried to clear her vision. In the background, a siren screamed as more of her colleagues reached her location.