The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(68)

CHAPTER FIFTY

‘You know about the Shard?’ Stuart said, trying to remember the story he had spun to DI Winter. They were at an advantage. They had been taking notes. They had just recited a police caution, hastening to add he was not under arrest.

‘My officers have spoken to your work colleagues.’ DI Winter crossed her legs. Stuart’s attention was drawn to the cuts on her fingers as she clasped them over one knee. ‘One of the waiters was surprised to see you having a meal with Deborah McCauley,’ she went on. Apparently, she’s a regular. Quite the flirt, by all accounts.’

‘When . . . when did you speak to him?’ Stuart said, trying to buy himself some time.

‘It hardly matters, does it? You’re on CCTV. Sounds like you had quite an animated conversation, yet you denied having met recently. I’d like to know why.’ DI Winter shifted towards Stuart, narrowing her gaze. In the flat above, the neighbours were having an argument, their words punctuated by the slamming of doors. But the background noise was barely audible to Stuart. All he could hear was the swish of blood in his ears as it pumped through his veins.

‘What are you hiding?’ DI Winter continued to pile on the pressure. ‘Because it could hold the key. Without the full story, we’re searching in the dark. Help us turn on the lights. See what we’re dealing with.’

Taking a breath, Stuart tried to slow his racing heart.

‘Babe, do you need a solicitor?’ Jodie said, linking her fingers through his in a show of support. Shaking his head, Stuart softly squeezed in a gesture of thanks.

He mooched forward on the sofa, his elbows clamped to his sides. Time was running out for Toby. The coppers should be out looking for him, instead of sitting here getting nowhere fast. He needed to tell them part of the story at least. He only hoped they would not tie him up in knots.

He took another deep breath. ‘I worked at the institute back in the eighties. The money was good but they were strict on confidentiality. They said they could ruin us if we talked about what we saw.’ Stuart frowned at the memory. ‘By the time it was over, I just wanted to forget. I believed Dr Curtis when he said we were just as much to blame.’

‘For what?’ DI Winter’s voice broke into his thoughts. Jodie was still holding his hand. She gave him another squeeze to signal to go on. He knew she was doing this for Toby. She loved that child like he was her own. He dreaded the moment when she would let go.

‘Dr Curtis ran tests on the children, all between six and twelve years old. He gave them doses of Zitalin to check for side effects. The children were treated like prisoners, locked in their rooms at night. I should have said something . . .’

‘Why didn’t you?’ Jodie said, slowly releasing her grip.

Stuart rubbed his sweat-laced palms on his jeans. ‘The government had given it the go-ahead. I saw the paperwork. He wasn’t breaking any laws.’ But Stuart was distorting the truth. The clearance he mentioned was for the psychological trials. It had nothing to do with the drugs.

‘What sort of parent would give Dr Freakshow their kid? Tell me that?’ Jodie’s tone had changed to one of bitter disgust.

‘For money,’ Stuart replied. ‘Sasha and Luka were penniless. They were paid, given food and board. Who was I to judge?’

‘Tell me what happened on the night of the fire.’ DI Winter steered his focus back. It was just as well. By the look on Jodie’s face, she wasn’t done with him yet. But he was too worried about Toby to take her judgement on board.

‘I was on duty. Every night shift we did a lap of the grounds outside and checked the dorms every hour.’ Stuart rubbed his face as the memory of that night closed in.

‘Go on.’ DI Winter’s voice sounded far away as she encouraged him to open up. He was back there, in the depths of the building. He could almost smell the mould spores, hear the rattle of the hot-water piping from behind the crumbling walls. Then there were the other sounds. The echoes of crying children that could not be explained. The memory of that place was branded in his mind.

‘The last time I checked Sasha she was sparko, fast asleep. Luka was too. I thought they’d be OK if I left them for a little while.’

‘Really?’ Jodie interrupted. ‘It’s bad enough you let them kiddies get hurt. You left them on their own too?’

‘If you don’t mind?’ DI Winter interrupted, her voice stern. Both women stared each other down until Jodie’s gaze finally dropped.

‘Luka and Sasha were the only ones left in the dorms. I was only gone half an hour . . . an hour, tops.’

He wished he could turn back the clock. How different things would have been if he had done his job properly that night. Sasha and Luka would have been spared, and Ellen and Toby would be safe at home. As for the rest of it . . . His confession to the police was the tip of the iceberg.

He glanced up, realising that all eyes were on him. ‘Christina . . . her husband worked shifts. She used to drive over to see me. We’d meet in the car park so we didn’t get caught on CCTV.’

‘In your original statement you said you were at the far end of the building having a cigarette.’

‘I found a way of leaving the institute without being seen on camera. It looked like I was still on duty if anyone checked.’ He stared at the thinly carpeted floor, not daring to meet Jodie’s eyes. ‘We didn’t want anyone to know about our affair.’ He paused. The police weren’t to know that he was leaving the worst of it out. He resented Deborah and Dr Curtis for putting him through this. It was all right for them; their luxurious lifestyles left them little time for remorse. Stuart wished he had never applied for that job, never blighted his life with what followed. Such thoughts haunted his nights and lurked throughout his days. It was why he had been so determined to keep Toby safe. Why had he followed the doctor’s instructions and locked Sasha and Luka into their rooms at night?