The Secret Child (DI Amy Winter #2)(82)

Luka inhaled a lungful of cool night air as they walked across the car park. Turning his face to the sky, he sought out the moon, sighing as it came into view.

Deborah wondered if he was thinking about his father; he had not heard from him in so long. It was cruel to keep them apart, but she was trying to do the right thing. Sitting in the safety of her car, she did her best to reassure him. Time outside was what Luka needed, a brief change of scene. She had to show willing if he was to trust her again. She allowed him his outpouring, listened as he relayed his concerns.

‘It ends tomorrow night,’ she said calmly. ‘That’s when you’ll leave this place for good.’

Luka’s eyes narrowed with mistrust. ‘You promise? And Mama too?’

‘I won’t just promise.’ She looked at him solemnly. ‘I swear on my life. This ends tomorrow – for your mother too.’



Dr Curtis’s voice was thick with sleep as he answered the phone. ‘Hello? What’s wrong?’

‘It’s Luka.’ Deborah’s tone was flat, her emotion spent after getting the boy back to bed and staying until he fell asleep.

‘And it can’t wait until the morning? What time is it?’ His voice drew away as he murmured to his wife, ‘Go back to sleep. I’ll take this in the study.’

Deborah gathered the courage needed to deal with what lay ahead. ‘He stole a set of keys and made it as far as Sasha’s room. It’s only down to me that they didn’t escape.’ A wave of sadness fell as she thought about Luka, asleep in bed. He trusted her. Could she betray him like this?

On the other end of the line she heard the creak of a door closing. Of the phone being cupped close to Curtis’s mouth. ‘We’ll have to bring forward the fire,’ he said, his words level and low. He had discussed it twice with her this week, how he had planned to erase his past mistakes. Sasha had discovered their secret; and, with the drugs infiltrating his system, it was a miracle Luka had survived this long.

‘Leave it to me. You can’t risk getting involved,’ Deborah replied. ‘You have copies of everything, don’t you?’ She was talking about his studies and the reports that were fit to be made public.

‘Of course. Are you sure you’re up to it?’

‘Tomorrow night. No survivors. Make sure you have an alibi.’ There was an audible click as Deborah swallowed, easing the tightness in her throat.

‘Very well.’ The doctor spoke on the exhale, uttering the two words that would bind them together for decades to come. ‘We’ll speak in the morning, go over the fine details one more time.’

Leaning back in her seat, Deborah felt her muscles relax. She was in control. Everything was going to be OK. She had told Luka he and his mother would be leaving the institute. She hadn’t promised they would be alive.





CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

One last journey, he’d told her. Amy contemplated Luka’s words during her tube ride to Tower Hill. A quick liaison with her colleagues had informed her that they were working hard behind the scenes. An undercover crew was already awaiting her arrival but Amy’s thoughts were laced with dread. Her stomach growled, reminding her it had not yet been fed. She reached into her pocket, plucking out the protein bar she had fished from her office drawer before she left. She barely noticed the taste, chewing automatically as she mentally ticked through their actions to date.

DC Gary Wilkes was at the care home, talking to the funeral director responsible for cremating Sasha and her son. Molly had been tasked with speaking to Luka’s father using an interpreter via LanguageLine, now they had got him to a phone. Her updates to Amy had come as text messages as she relayed snippets of their conversation. But what had he been told about Luka’s death? Had he travelled here all those years ago? Grieved for his wife and son? Scrunching up the wrapper, she shoved it deep into her pocket, ready to depart at the next stop. The carriages were getting busy, with people escaping the city streets. If she never took another tube, it would be too soon.

As she came up the escalators, Amy’s phone informed her of a voicemail. It must have been urgent for Molly to call. She listened to her update. Her words were used sparingly, conscious that she must not tie up the line for very long. As she drew the phone away from her face, Amy closed her eyes briefly and willed some positive vibes to come her way. Please God, she thought, praying to anyone that would listen. I’ll go to church, donate to charity, but please make this come good.

As her phone rang, she directed all of her focus to the call.

‘So, you’re here, but I’m sorry. You’re probably too late.’ It was Luka, sounding pained.

Amy’s pulse picked up speed as she surveyed the crowd. She could hear traffic in the background. A car beeped across from her, and through the receiver of her phone. Goosebumps prickled on her skin as she realised he was near.

‘I’ve done everything you asked,’ she said, feeling breathless with emotion. ‘Where are the children?’

An edge of misery mounted in Luka’s voice. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t help you. I’ve got to go.’

‘Got to go? What the hell?’ Amy screamed down the phone.

‘It’s over. I can’t deal with this anymore. The pain. It’s coming back. I need to lie down somewhere dark. I’m not strong enough to see this through.’