His expression screwed up as he tried to find the right words. He remembered Deborah’s warning. Mama was ill. He could not upset her by telling her how bad things were. She had lost weight since he last saw her, her thick black hair now streaked with slivers of grey.
‘I want to go home,’ he finally said. ‘I hate this place.’
‘You do?’ She drew him close, her arm around his shoulders as she met his gaze. ‘They told me you liked it here. That you wanted to stay.’
Luka shook his head so fast it felt like a spinning top. Lately, his time with his mama had been rationed to just minutes. Extra hours cleaning the old building as well as serving the workshop students in the kitchen kept her busy during the day. In the evenings, he was so tired from the experiments that he slept. Holding him tightly, Sasha rocked him until his sobs subsided. His tears dampening her apron, he finally drew away.
‘Can’t we leave this place, Mama? Can’t we run away?’
‘But where will we go without money?’ She asked. ‘They send my allowance to Ivan. They’ve taken our passports too.’ She said it with authority. Had she looked for them? Had she thought about leaving too?
‘Tell you what,’ she said, clasping her palm against his cheek. ‘I’ll speak to the doctor. The trials will be over soon. If we explain that you’re scared . . .’
‘But Mama!’ Luka blurted. Wasn’t she listening to a word he said?
‘Shhh, don’t fret,’ Sasha replied, pausing to kiss his forehead. ‘He’s a doctor, not a criminal. He can’t keep us here against our will.’ Just the same, she checked to ensure nobody was listening. Leaning forward, she kept her tone low. ‘If that doesn’t work, I’ll do some snooping. We’ll find our own way out.’
Luka slowly nodded. He did not trust the doctor, but what choice did they have?
‘I’ll speak to Deborah too,’ Sasha continued. ‘I’ll tell her you’ve had enough.’
But Luka lacked his mama’s faith. Deborah was kind and she looked out for him, but she was in no hurry to allow either of them home.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
After securing her bike in the rear car park, Amy accessed the police station through the back. The private entrance was available only to police and today she was grateful for that. Once inside, she made a beeline for the ladies’ toilets. Locking herself into a cubicle, she sat on the closed toilet seat. Her legs still felt like jelly and she needed a few seconds to compose herself before facing her colleagues. The muted tones of the tannoy called an officer to the front counter, followed by the urgent footsteps of her police colleagues as they bustled down the corridor. She wasn’t the centre of the universe, Amy told herself. Her colleagues were too busy getting on with their work to think about her. So why did her feet feel glued to the floor?
Sliding her mobile from her pocket, she flicked through her texts and missed calls. There were three notifications from Paddy and a voicemail from Sally-Ann, her sister, checking in with her. A text from her brother Craig, asking if she was OK, followed by a smutty one-liner about Flora almost catching him in the act with an ex-lap dancer named Divine. Amy’s lips curved into a weak smile, relieved he was playing down the news, which had probably blown his mind. They were all tarred by association – the family who had taken in the daughter of killers Jack and Lillian Grimes. Amy sighed as she scrolled down her phone to find three missed calls from DCI Pike. Rising, she pocketed her mobile, unable to put off the inevitable. She checked her watch. Still on schedule. Despite everything that was happening, she could not bear to be late to work.
‘I trust you’ve seen this.’ Pike raised the newspaper in Amy’s direction as she entered her office minutes later. Amy stared at the tiny cactus plant gracing Pike’s desk. She could not bear to look at the headline again. It stank of betrayal. And this from the man who claimed to still love her. If that’s love, you can keep it, Amy thought, nodding three times in response to Pike’s sharp tones. In the short walk to her DCI’s office she had come to a decision. Her father had adopted her because he wanted her to have a better life. She would not betray his memory by throwing everything away now. She was wary but ready to fight. If Pike thought she was kicking her off the team, she had another think coming.
‘I owe you an apology,’ Pike said. Her response could not have been any more unexpected.
Amy lifted her head, wondering if she had heard right. Was she really saying that she wanted to apologise? She waited before speaking, reluctant to ask Pike to clarify for fear of looking like a fool. Such battles were better fought with carefully chosen words.
‘I’m sorry for how I reacted when you came to me about Lillian.’ Pike gestured at her to sit down. ‘If Robert were here now, he’d give me a serious telling-off.’ The mention of his name brought a sad smile to Pike’s face. It was true. Robert had treated people as he found them. His beliefs had not been forged from others’ opinions or the type of life people were born into. In contrast, Pike had been less than sympathetic when Amy told her about her connection to Lillian Grimes. ‘Not that it’s an excuse, but I’ve been struggling to get over Robert’s death,’ Pike continued, filling the silence between them. ‘I should have listened when you said you didn’t want to speak to Adam Rossi.’ She folded over the newspaper and deposited it in the bin beneath her desk. ‘You’re a good detective . . . Who am I kidding? You’re a brilliant detective, and you’ve taken everything thrown at you with the integrity I’ve come to expect. I turned my back on you, and that shows weak leadership on my part.’
Amy opened her mouth to say it was all right, but Pike raised her hand. It was then that Amy realised just how much thought had gone into what she was about to say. ‘Poor leadership filters down. This team deserves better than that.’
‘Thank you,’ Amy replied. ‘Hopefully, the rumour mill will die down soon. Today’s headlines, tomorrow’s chip paper, as Dad used to say.’ She should have consoled Pike, told her what a brilliant leader she was, but the words would have felt like a lie. The truth was, her DCI had taken her eye off the ball. Perhaps her admission would signal a new start for them all.
‘Have you spoken to the team about it yet?’
Amy shook her head.
‘Then do. Get it out in the open. Show them that you’ve nothing to be ashamed of. Tell them what you’re comfortable sharing and leave it at that.’
‘I will,’ Amy said, even though the thought of talking about her personal life made her inwardly cringe.
‘I wish I could turn the clock back,’ Pike mused, her eyes falling on a framed photograph on the wall. In the centre of the picture was Amy’s father, flanked on either side by new recruits on their passing-out day. At the end of the line-up was Pike. In full uniform, they looked so smart, and Amy felt a pang of shared grief.
‘What we had was very short-lived.’ Pike cleared her throat. Her eyes watery, she looked as if she were about to cry. Amy had no intention of bringing up their brief affair, but Pike seemed determined to have her say. There was something bizarre about this meeting. They should have been discussing Ellen’s case instead of stoking the ashes of the past.
‘I hope we can put this unfortunate episode behind us,’ Pike said, sniffing back unshed tears.
Amy shifted in her seat. ‘Water under the bridge.’
‘Good. Because I’m missing our workouts in the gym. Nobody can throw a right hook like you.’
Amy made an effort to smile. She was grateful for Pike’s support but a long way off trusting her just yet. ‘Have any updates come in?’ She steered the conversation back to work.
‘The blood on the nightdress has been identified as Ellen’s.’ Pike sighed, allowing her words to fall like stones. ‘The car park where you found it has been released as a crime scene. Apart from some cigarette butts – most likely left by workmen – we’ve got nothing else of value. Unfortunately, there was no CCTV installed and the security measures put in place by the contractors have not turned up anything so far.’
‘This is
someone who knows their way around.’ Amy felt light-headed, caught in a blood-sugar slump after exercising on an empty stomach that morning. The fact that the blood was Ellen’s was something she had prepared herself for. ‘I think the kidnapper is Luka – that somehow he survived the fire, and maybe Sasha too. How could he get into a building site like that? He can’t be working alone.’
‘The way this case is going, nothing surprises me anymore.’ Pike steepled her fingers as they discussed the possibility of both mother and son still being alive.
Their meeting went far better than Amy could have hoped for. She knew her team would be working hard in her absence, along with dozens of specialist officers assigned to the case. After they had discussed overtime budgets, media liaison and outstanding tasks, the meeting came to an end. Amy rose from her chair. It was time to convince her colleagues to focus their thoughts on the case, rather than today’s headlines. People like Luka did not go away quietly and she prayed that he would get back in touch. Every nerve ending prickled as she imagined him on the loose.
CHAPTER FORTY
Amy did not usually concern herself with gossip, yet today she waited outside her team’s office just the same. Up until recently, her personal life had been her own business. Now Lillian and Adam had started working together, everything had turned on its head. No amount of list-making or organisational skills could rescue this situation, and she had never felt so exposed. No longer could she contain her history in a black-ribboned box. The past had become a wretched, insistent thing that would not go away.
If her team did not back her one hundred per cent, she might have to consider stepping down. Lillian had enjoyed pushing the notion into her head and, like a hungry worm, it fed on her insecurities. The progeny of Jack and Lillian Grimes had no entitlement to a job such as hers. Who did she think she was, the daughter of murderous parents, dealing with victims’ families and relaying sympathy for their pain? Such thoughts made her uneasy as she opened the door an inch and listened for honest responses to her news.
‘So, she’s known a while?’ Molly’s youthful voice was plain to hear. ‘Fair play to her, she’s coping better than I would have. I don’t know how she sleeps at night.’
‘Don’t be fooled by her cool front,’ DC Steve Moss replied. ‘She’s not one to wear her heart on her sleeve.’
Amy inwardly groaned. His observations were correct, but Steve was not a fan and she waited for the slating to come.
‘I’d be devastated.’ Molly’s sentence was punctuated by a couple of chews of her gum. ‘Especially in this job. I mean, it’s hypocritical, isn’t it? Helping the victims her own parents murdered. Ugh. Can you imagine having kids? I’d be worried about passing it on.’
‘I’d be more worried about what people were saying about me behind my back.’ Steve’s words were taut. ‘Shouldn’t we be focusing on the investigation rather than Winter’s personal life?’
‘I was only saying.’
‘Yeah, I know,’ Steve replied. ‘Like people were “only saying” about me when I was demoted.’ His voice grew louder as he moved around the room, taking the opportunity to make a point for himself. ‘You know, if something starts off as a mouse crossing the road around here, it’ll be an elephant by the time it gets to the other side.’
‘I can’t see how we can elaborate any more on Ma’am Winter’s story,’ Gary Wilkes replied. ‘I mean . . . fuck! Having the Beasts of Brentwood as your parents. It doesn’t get any worse than that.’
Amy bristled. She thought Gary would have had more empathy. Molly’s response didn’t surprise her, and she was most likely voicing what many thought. But Steve had shocked her most of all. She had not expected an ally in him, particularly given her frosty reception of him when he joined her team.
‘They aren’t her parents.’ Paddy’s voice boomed from the far side of the room. A sudden flurry of movement suggested that they had not seen him enter through the other door. ‘Our old superintendent, Robert Winter, was her father. Her mum, Flora, is as lovely as they come. I’m sure Winter would like to know that we all have her back. There are enough people gossiping about this without her own team sticking the boot in.’
‘Sorry,’ Molly replied quietly. ‘I wasn’t being mean. I find it interesting, that’s all.’
‘Yeah, like lots of people found my case interesting,’ Steve muttered. ‘It doesn’t make it any easier on the people involved. We should draw a line underneath it. If you want to gossip, this office isn’t the place.’
‘Particularly when the person you’re talking about can walk in at any minute,’ Amy replied, striding in through the door. ‘I wouldn’t mind you chatting if we could afford the time. I take it we’re still no further on with finding Luka.’ She looked pointedly at Molly, whose face was puce.
‘No, ma’am,’ Molly replied.
‘Right,’ Amy said, inhaling a deep breath as she looked around the room. ‘Then I’m going to say this only once. As you’re aware, journalist Adam Rossi saw fit to publish a story with details of my biological parents which have recently come to light. I do not consider Lillian Grimes to be my mother, I’m glad Jack Grimes is dead, and I have no ties with Mandy or Damien Grimes.’ Amy exchanged glances with Paddy. Coming out in the open about Sally-Ann would leave officers tempted to share the story, and she had taken up enough headlines for now. But Pike was right. She had to face it full on or not at all.
‘Can you all do me a favour? Don’t speak to the press. They’re quick to condemn and will twist your words if it creates headlines trashy enough to sell papers. There are lots of decent reporters out there, but this was written by someone with an axe to grind.’
Amy glanced around the room again, preparing to replace speculation with fact. She was grateful that her team could not hear the pounding of her heart as it reverberated behind her rib cage. ‘I was adopted by Robert and Flora Winter at four – almost five – years of age. Robert found me living in appalling conditions when he came to Jack and Lillian’s home. He put in a request to foster me with a view to adopt, and he and Flora were approved. I totally understand why they felt it was in my best interests not to focus on it during my youth. Unfortunately, it has come to light at the worst possible time. I’m still the same person I was before these headlines, and just as determined to make this team the best it can be.’ She turned to Molly, whose temperature seemed to be reaching normal levels. ‘Has anyone got any questions before we go into briefing?’
‘How has DCI Pike taken the news?’ Molly asked.
Amy raised an eyebrow. ‘Why?’
‘Well.’ She squirmed in her chair beneath Amy’s stern gaze. ‘I don’t want anyone else managing our team.’
‘Why would anyone else manage our team? What have my managerial skills got to do with a newspaper story?’ Amy didn’t mean to sound so aggressive, but she couldn’t help herself. She sensed that those who had wanted to ask questions had now decided against it.
‘If DCI Pike has any sense, she’ll support Ma’am Winter all the way,’ DC Steve Moss replied. ‘Best we leave the gossiping to the newspapers and the fishwives that read them.’
Amy watched as Steve rolled up his sleeves, ready to go into the briefing room. ‘Any more questions before we close the door on this?’ she said, wanting to move forward too.
‘What about the appeal? The paper said that Lillian Grimes hopes to be freed.’ DC Gary Wilkes’s voice rose from the corner of the room.
‘That has nothing to do with me.’ Amy eyed the clock on the wall. ‘The blood on the nightdress has been identified as Ellen’s. I want all our focus on the case.’
As the officers filed in before her, Paddy caught her eye. ‘Well said. You got through it.’
Amy acknowledged his words with a sharp nod of the head. Ellen’s case could soon be progressing to a murder investigation. There was nothing to smile about.
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Sighing, Dr Curtis pulled out a plastic bucket chair and took a seat next
to Nicole’s hospital bed. He was breaking the terms of his bail just by being here and it was only thanks to his supporters in the medical profession that he had been able to sneak in.
He groaned, his joints stiff. His arthritis was playing up for the first time in months. He supposed this was the way it would be from now on. But his discomfort was nothing compared to where he was heading. He approached the prospect of prison with a sense of resignation. He’d always known that one day his past would catch up with him, that not everybody would understand. The modern world wasn’t ready to hear of the sacrifices he’d made for advances in medicine. He thought about the tests he had conducted over the years. Some were legitimate, many were not. But they had all provided the basis for the research that had made Zitalin possible. The drug was deemed a lifesaver and, without testing, it would never have got off the ground. But would the police see it that way when the truth was revealed? He had taken drastic measures to protect his methods up until now. Nobody knew of the lethal dosages of Zitalin he had prescribed in the guise of anti-depression medication to Sasha during the last few weeks of her life. She had been an unwitting test subject, and the day he found her snooping in his office was the day he knew she would not come out of it alive. Zitalin worked differently in adults, slowing their movements rather than sharpening their minds. She was a sacrifice, just like the children nobody wanted, whose names he could barely remember anymore. It had come as a shock to discover Luka was alive.
He watched as Nicole’s eyelids flickered. The respirator had been removed and she was now breathing on her own. Soon she would surface from her drug-induced coma, but did he want to be there when she did?
Her hand was lukewarm as he clasped it, her skin deathly pale. He had not expected her to survive, yet here she was, battling for her life. Fighting to see Ellen again. But the chances of that happening were low.
The Secret Child (A DI Amy Winter Thriller Book 2) Page 17