The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(8)

Having become famous through his career as an experimental psychologist, Dr Curtis had gained further notoriety after releasing a string of bestselling books on childhood behaviour. His face was often on television as he was regularly consulted on the topic, although his charismatic on-screen persona was far removed from the character Amy had encountered today. It was hardly surprising, given the stress he was under, but Amy sensed there was more to Ellen’s disappearance than Dr Curtis was letting on.

Paddy’s spoon clinked against his cup as he stirred sugar into his tea. ‘Curtis did a brief stint in an animal-testing lab before moving on to child psychology. It was forty years ago, though, so I can’t see that it’s relevant to this case.’

‘We need to know everything. A full résumé of his background, and Nicole’s too. Their childhoods, their parents, their social circles. Are either of them having an affair? Do they owe anyone money? Something stinks in that house, and I want to know what it is.’

It was bad enough they were playing catch-up, as the kidnapping had been reported late. Amy had requested undercover surveillance of the Curtis family home, but, given a lot of their budget had been blown on their last big case, chances were she would be turned down. At the moment, the Curtis family were victims, but Amy knew from experience how quickly things could turn.

Paddy sipped his tea. ‘The officers involved in the house search said that Ellen’s room was spotless. The whole place was like a show home, nothing out of place.’

‘I guess when you’re as rich as Curtis you can afford to pay cleaners to pick up after you.’ Amy wondered how scrupulously their home had been cleaned after Ellen disappeared. She sipped her coffee, conscious of the time. ‘There was something very Stepford Wives about Nicole,’ she continued. ‘You should have seen the way Curtis looked at her. We need to speak to her on her own.’ But all attempts to do so had failed and, unless the parents became suspects, it was something Amy could not force. She checked her watch. Time for the briefing.

Side by side, she walked with Paddy to the conference room, mug of coffee in hand. Even in her heels she was dwarfed by Paddy’s form. Their relationship had been strengthened since Sally-Ann’s identity was revealed. Not only was Paddy one of Amy’s closest friends, he was living with her sister too. He had been as surprised as anyone to discover who she really was. They were all a little shell-shocked, going through the motions until they found a better way to cope.

Within minutes, her team had filed in, and Amy began briefing the specialist officers assigned to the case. She glared at the desk phone as it rang with persistence, interrupting her flow. Front-counter staff knew better than to transfer calls to this number, so who were they trying to put through?

‘Quiet for a minute,’ she said, halting the background chatter as she picked up the receiver. ‘DI Winter speaking. We’re mid-briefing. This better be good.’

‘Sorry to interrupt, ma’am, but I’ve got a caller here who insists on speaking only to you.’ Daphne from the front desk sounded somewhat affronted. ‘I tried your airwaves but you weren’t picking up.’

Amy’s radio was sitting on her office desk but, to be fair, she switched it on more than most. Uniformed officers were expected to have theirs on at all times, but detectives could get away with having one transmitting in the background, as long as they were contactable by phone. Besides, their rechargeable batteries barely lasted the day and, like everything else, were in short supply.

‘Can you take a message?’ Amy presumed it was another follow-up. Their appeal had just hit the press, meaning crank calls and dead-end leads weren’t far behind. She sighed. They would never get through the briefing at this rate and she was acutely aware that all eyes were on her.

‘I’m afraid not,’ Daphne replied. ‘He’s saying he has Dr Curtis’s child.’

‘So you’re telling me the kidnapper is on the line.’ Amy raised her voice for everyone in the room to hear. Their low mumblings came to an immediate end. ‘What are you waiting for? Put him through!’ Raising her finger to her lips, she signalled to her colleagues to be quiet as she activated the speakerphone. Amy would never win awards for her phone manner. She mused that it was probably a crank call, but it would not do any harm for them to listen, just in case. She watched as Paddy slipped his phone from his pocket, pressed the record button and slid it across the table in her direction. Molly stretched in her seat to reach for her notepad, pen in her other hand. They would take note of every word said.

The call seemed like a gift that had dropped into her lap. Was Ellen’s kidnapper really on the line?





CHAPTER SEVEN

Nicole stared mournfully out the window. Losing Ellen had made her re-evaluate everything. She had thrown everyone out, telling them she needed time to think. Hugh had gone searching for their daughter and instructed her to stay at home in case Ellen returned. As if it would be that easy. The very thing that had attracted Nicole to her much older husband had also led to their downfall. It was his fault Ellen had been scooped from her bed. His actions that had put her in danger.

Luka was alive. She was convinced of it. Who else would send them a wreath on the anniversary of his death each year? And the words on the card inside the stiff black envelope pinned to the front . . . they chilled her to the bone.

From what she gathered, she was not the only one to receive such communications. Her husband’s hushed phone calls told her that Deborah, Stuart and Christina received the yearly reminders too.