The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(66)

Stuart led them into his old-fashioned living room, which had been decorated with things from charity shops. Flowery pelmets hung over the windows and the fireplace was cluttered with trinkets and ornaments that Jodie had bought to give the place some warmth. He watched as DI Winter took in the family photos on the wall.

‘I need your full cooperation,’ the detective said, finally turning her gaze to him. Her eyes were piercing, icy grey, but there was heat behind them. Fire and ice. ‘I have an update on Toby,’ she continued, and told him about a call from the kidnapper. ‘We believe he’s safe – for now.’

Stuart swallowed, his throat feeling tight. ‘Is it the same person who took Ellen? Is it true? Is Luka really alive?’

‘You tell me,’ DI Winter replied. ‘Apparently, you’ve spoken to him.’

‘What?’ Her hip jutting to one side, Jodie leaned against the doorway. ‘Who’s she talking about, Stuart?’

‘Why don’t we all sit down?’ Steve interjected, leading Stuart to the tired-looking leather sofa. ‘Look, mate, I know you’re in bits over this, but we can help each other out. There’s nothing to say we can’t bring Toby home. But we need to know who we’re dealing with. Who have you spoken to? What did they want?’

Home. The thought of seeing his little boy made tears spring to Stuart’s eyes. As the officer took notes, Stuart found himself relaying details of the package he had received.

‘I don’t get it,’ Jodie interrupted. ‘Why would anyone take Toby? And who’s this sodding Lucas you keep talking about?’

‘You need to tell us everything,’ DC Moss said, ignoring Jodie’s outburst. ‘Social services will be involved. They’ll insist you cooperate.’

Stuart’s nostrils flared. ‘You’re calling the social on me? You think I don’t care about my boy?’

‘Sit down,’ DI Winter commanded as Stuart leapt from the sofa. ‘A referral is par for the course. It’s no reflection on you. But it’s like my colleague said, we can work together to bring your son home.’ She hesitated, exchanging a glance with her fellow officer. ‘The suspect is due to telephone me tomorrow about Toby’s whereabouts.’

‘But?’ Stuart said. ‘There’s a but, isn’t there? I can tell by the look on your face.’

‘We believed Ellen was placed in a dangerous situation and we were working against the clock. I don’t want that happening to Toby. The kidnapper’s calling himself Luka. I need to know everything about him.’

Stuart wrung his fingers, beads of perspiration breaking out on his hairline. Deborah had warned him to say nothing. But what the police said made sense. Ellen was able-bodied and they still hadn’t brought her home. What chance did Toby have from the confines of a wheelchair? A warm hand was placed on his back. It was Jodie.

‘Tell them, babe,’ she whispered in his ear, her breath smelling of cigarettes and mints. ‘Tell them what they need to know.’

Stuart inhaled a deep, strengthening breath. ‘Back in the eighties, I was an orderly at the Curtis Institute in West London. There were four of us – Dr Curtis, Deborah McCauley, his assistant, and Christina Watson, who had the same job as me. The pay was good, better than normal, but we signed a confidentiality agreement when we joined.’ He looked at Jodie, seeking her approval. She nodded at him to continue. ‘It was a trial, government-approved. Psychological testing on children. Different kids came and went, but then Luka arrived with his mother from Russia, and they stayed in the dorms.’

Stuart risked a glance at the police officers, who were taking in every word. ‘The dormitories weren’t fit for purpose. There were electrical problems, leaky pipes and the fire alarms didn’t work. Christina and I were paid to take turns staying overnight.’ Closing his eyes, Stuart rubbed his face, dragging his stubbled skin in his wake. The memories he had buried years ago now hit him with full force. ‘Near the end of the trial there was a fire. The alarms didn’t go off and Luka and his mother died.’

‘Oh. Lu-ka, not Lucas . . .’ Jodie said. ‘For a minute there I thought you meant the bloke from the Hare and Hound. And this is the same Luka that’s taken Toby? But how can that be, if he’s dead?’

Stuart shrugged. ‘Every year I’ve been getting flowers on the anniversary of their deaths. And I’m not the only one. But nobody wants to talk about what happened back then.’ A chill descended as his words hung in the air.

Then he recounted what had happened the day before and watched their faces as he relayed details of the courier who had come to his work address. ‘I was too scared to call the police,’ he said. ‘I didn’t know what to do.’ But nothing would ease the pain of the guilt he felt. If this was Luka, he understood his anger – the need for revenge. He could still see the faces of the children at the institute, hear their sobs from behind locked doors. His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. He swallowed, giving passage to his words. ‘This Luka . . . he started with Dr Curtis a while ago. Took his child. Almost killed his wife.’

‘We know a courier turned up at her home. Gave her an ultimatum too,’ DI Winter interrupted.

Stuart felt the blood drain from his face. ‘And you think that’s how she nearly died?’