The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(63)

‘Is that you, Luka?’ Amy was keen to extend every second of their conversation. She was desperate to ask him about Ellen, but the call needed to be handled with care.

‘Who else would it be, you stupid cow?’ Her caller sucked in a sharp breath between clenched teeth.

Amy could almost feel his pain. ‘Are you OK? You don’t sound very well.’ His health was a big factor. If he fell ill and the children were in captivity, their lives could be at risk.

‘Just. Stop. Talking,’ he replied. Hesitating, he waited for silence to descend. His mouth sounded close to the receiver, his breath coming in stops and starts. ‘I’m not stupid. Nor am I in the mood for games.’

‘I know about the drugs,’ Amy bluffed. It was a risk, but her sixth sense told her she was on the right track. ‘Dr Curtis dosed you with Zitalin during the trials. Used you as a guinea pig to see how you’d react.’

But the drugs did not appear a subject her caller wanted to tackle, as he failed to respond. Amy tried to second-guess his next move, but all she could hear was his ragged breath. Closing her eyes, she forgot about her colleagues as she put herself in his shoes. ‘It wasn’t just the drugs, was it? It was the childhood you missed out on . . . normal things that kids take for granted. Birthday parties, mixing with friends.’

‘You’d know all about that,’ Luka replied. ‘I read the newspaper story about you being a Grimes. Is it true?’

‘Yes. We’re not that different, you and I,’ Amy said, the words sticking in her throat. The last thing she wanted was to discuss her past, but she needed to drag out the call and keep him on side. ‘I don’t have any family photos up to the age of four and I was rarely allowed outside.’ A memory bloomed – four-year-old Poppy, her face pressed against the upstairs window, watching children play on the streets below. ‘I know how it feels to be an outcast,’ she said truthfully. ‘The only way you can cope is to become someone else.’

‘And did it work?’ Luka sucked in a breath as if experiencing a stab of pain.

‘For a while. But these things always come back to haunt you in the end.’ She paused, reminding herself to put a positive spin on things. They needed to find out Ellen’s whereabouts. ‘It doesn’t have to eat you up. Is Ellen still alive? We’re listening. We want to help.’

‘It’s a shame you weren’t around when I needed you,’ Luka said. ‘On the days I was allowed outside, I used to pray that someone would notice me. I remember being taken to see Number Ten Downing Street. Police were standing before those tall black steel gates. I screamed so loudly in my head for help, willing them to see me. But nobody was looking because they thought I was dead . . .’

‘And trying to escape wasn’t worth the pain if you were caught,’ Amy replied. ‘So many times I wanted to ask for help, but I knew they’d kill me if they found out.’ A beat passed between them. ‘Please. Let me speak to them. Even for a second.’ Amy’s heart faltered as she realised Luka was handing the phone over.

‘Hello?’ The voice was that of a boy. In the background, Luka urged him to give his name. ‘My . . . my name is Toby,’ the child continued. ‘We’re in a room with no windows—’

‘That’s enough,’ Luka interrupted, but Toby was determined to have his say. ‘He took me in the taxi . . .’ the little boy shouted. ‘I don’t know where I am.’

‘Shut up!’ Luka barked before returning to the phone. A door closed in the background, and Amy’s heart was in her mouth as she strained to listen to every sound. Toby’s use of the word ‘we’ had not gone unnoticed. ‘Where’s Ellen? You promised—’

‘Think of it as a relay race,’ Luka interrupted. ‘Nicole played the game and handed the baton to you. It’s not my fault you let the side down. You’ll have to be quicker next time.’

Every muscle in Amy’s body tensed. Officers were already monitoring incoming calls about missing children. Toby was the name of Stuart’s son – why hadn’t Stuart called the police? Another thought loomed, darker than the last. Had Luka given him an ultimatum? Just what state was Stuart in?

‘If any harm comes to that little boy, you’re no better than the monsters who made you this way,’ Amy said. But her words were ignored as the kidnapper forged on.

‘Stuart earned this call, so I suggest you put it to good use. You’ll get Toby back – if you do what I say. Don’t worry, it won’t involve you speaking to the newspapers – you’ve had enough exposure for one day.’

Amy glanced at her colleagues, trying to ignore the sting in his words. In the background, her team were working, listening intently to the call. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want you to shut up. Your voice . . . it’s grating on me. No more talking, or I’ll finish this, I mean it. I’ve nothing to lose.’

Keeping her silence, Amy waited for his instructions. This afternoon’s events outside the station had distracted her at the worst possible time. She was pleased Luka had volunteered the information – but, for now, it was safer to stay mute.

‘Good,’ he replied, in response to her silence. He sucked in a tight breath as he seemed to undergo another wave of pain. ‘Be at Holland Park tube station. Two o’clock tomorrow.’