‘I’m sorry. But I set you up to fail. They’re in a breaker’s yard miles away from here.’ Luka checked his watch. ‘You’ll never reach them in time.’
‘Where?’ Amy stiffened as she watched the men surround him. They nodded to the woman closing in. A few feet away, a homeless man was getting to his feet. Amy tried to catch their attention but their focus was all on Luka, who appeared to be in crippling pain.
‘They’re sedated, in the boot of a car about to be crushed.’ He paced the footpath, oblivious to the movement around him. ‘I’m sorry . . . I wanted Dr Curtis and Stuart to suffer – to pay for what they did.’
‘Where? Please, Luka. For me,’ Amy said, still trying to catch the officers’ eyes. She might not be able to reach the children, but they had units on standby. Her heart hammered as she imagined Toby and Ellen, their helpless bodies curled up in an abandoned car. In her mind’s eye she could see the crusher, hear the sound of metal splintering bone. Her muscles tensed as she watched the officers through the passing traffic obstructing her view.
‘All right,’ Luka replied. ‘I’ll tell you. But you’ll never reach them in time . . .’
Amy watched in horror as the undercover officers closed in. Couldn’t they hear? He was about to give her the location. She wanted to scream at them to back off. Briefly, she caught the female undercover officer’s eye and gave a violent shake of the head. But Luka was watching her and followed her gaze.
‘Where? Tell me!’ Amy repeated, their eyes locking. It was too late for him to hide.
‘I told you no police!’ he shouted, his voice panicked as officers closed in. From all around him, they crept from their vantage points. He was surrounded at every turn. Throwing his phone on the ground, he sprinted, stopping dead as a car drew to a halt and more officers flooded out. He had nowhere left to go. Nowhere except across the road towards her. But the traffic was not letting up. It was too big a risk. Looking around him one last time, he gritted his teeth and ran.
‘No!’ Amy shouted. Time seemed to move in slow motion as he spotted a gap in the traffic and sprinted across. But his decision had been ill-timed, the pain creasing his face and stalling his movements. The screech of brakes was deafening, and Amy watched, horror-struck, as Luka was thrown into the air.
CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
With a sickening crunch, Luka’s body hit the windscreen of the car. The treble tragedy made Amy’s stomach lurch as she clasped her hand over her mouth. Luka’s life could be snuffed out in a matter of seconds. He was the only hope they had. Panicked voices ensued as she radioed for an ambulance, updating Control about the scene. Running towards the site of impact, she was forced to listen to one sickening crunch after another as a domino effect took hold and cars piled up behind. The sound of screeching metal felt like nails against chalkboard as Luka’s body flopped forward on to the road. Traffic ground to a halt, plainclothes officers rushing out to stop oncoming cars. Rage flooded Amy’s system as she knelt down to check for signs of life. She had been on the cusp of finding Toby and Ellen, on the brink of Luka giving himself up. She recognised the weariness of being caught up in something so dire, knew how he felt being part of a situation he’d hated for so long. Blood streaked down his temple, his right leg at an angle that suggested broken bones.
‘Luka, can you hear me?’ She cupped his face with her hands. His eyes fluttered open, a moan passing his lips. Already she could hear the wail of sirens as the ambulance came to assist.
‘Is he alive?’ A male officer spoke from above her, while others checked on drivers caught up in the scene.
‘No thanks to you!’ Amy spat, briefly assessing the rest of his body for injuries. ‘You were meant to hang back.’
After mumbling something about following orders, he crouched down to help. Slowly and gently, she rolled Luka into the recovery position, assisted by the officer, who had nothing more to say. They had moved in without her authority and gone above her head. There was only one person who would have panicked enough to issue the order to arrest. Someone who had no clue of how people like Luka felt. DCI Pike. The betrayal bit deeply.
‘Luka,’ she said, squeezing his forearm. ‘Where are they? Please tell me.’ She prayed this would not be a dying declaration. Why should his father have to lose him a second time? Luka’s eyelids fluttered, but his eyes were unfocused, and there were no words on his lips.
‘Back off!’ she screamed at the people crowding around him. ‘Give him some air.’ Hot anger drove tears behind her lids, and she swallowed them back. She could almost hear Ellen and Toby crying out in fear. The sound would haunt her nightmares if she could not get to them in time. Hands trembling, she touched Luka’s cheek, praying for warmth. ‘Luka,’ she whispered, bending over until her lips brushed his ear. ‘Please, tell me where the children are.’
The tiniest of groans escaped from between his lips. ‘Mother knows,’ he said, before passing out.
Heavy footsteps broke the stillness as paramedics gathered around her in a flash of green uniforms and equipment bags. A warm sticky substance laced Amy’s fingers as she raised them from the ground. Blood was oozing from the back of Luka’s head at a frightening rate. Making room for them to work, she gave the paramedics a quick rundown of events. ‘If he says anything – utters a syllable – please tell us. There are children’s lives at risk.’
He was still breathing, but only just. Working quickly and diligently, officers took control while Luka was treated at the scene.
With some trepidation, Amy climbed into the back of the ambulance, squeezing herself into a corner seat. Having updated base, she left uniformed officers to take control. Officers were being drafted in to search all breaker’s yards and an appeal was soon to go live. But even if they put a stop to all the cars in England being crushed, Toby still needed medication and specialised care. He was a long way from being out of the woods. They needed to pin down his location, and it had to be soon.
As the paramedics hoisted Luka on board, she wanted to ask them how things looked. But she knew from experience how much she hated being asked for updates early on in an investigation. Was this the same? She could see by their grim faces and the haste of their actions that Luka’s life was hanging by a thread. As the ambulance weaved in and out of traffic at speed, Amy felt her stomach churn. She had never been the best of travellers and hated being in the back seat. Medical supplies rattled in compartments as she gripped the sides. One of the paramedics turned and gave her a sympathetic smile.
‘We’ll be there soon.’ The ponytailed girl seemed too young to hold such a responsible role, but her movements carried a confidence beyond her years.
‘How’s it looking?’ Amy said, no longer able to hold back the question on her tongue. ‘Can he speak? He’s the only one who can help me.’
‘At the moment we’re looking at broken bones and a serious head injury. It could be some time before he’s able to talk, if at all. Sorry.’
Amy gave a tight nod. She had always felt a sense of camaraderie with members of the emergency services, and they worked well with the police, helping each other along. But today, no comfort was being offered. All she could do was go to the hospital with the slim hope he could utter a couple of words. But with each minute that passed, that hope faded, along with the chances of finding the children in time. Amy took a deep breath to settle her stomach as another wave of nausea rose. Her colleagues’ voices buzzed on the radio and she pushed her earpiece, which had become dislodged, back into her ear. She knew she should speak to DCI Pike, but it sounded like everything was in hand. She had learned to be wise with her words when updating Control. All updates made over airwaves were recorded and transcribed into a report. That was something the Independent Police Complaints Commission could be trawling through later on. DCI Pike’s voice sounded worried. She should never have intervened.
A blast of cold air kissed Amy’s skin as the back doors opened, seconds after the ambulance came to a juddering halt. Her muscles stiff, sh
e climbed out, watching as paramedics lowered Luka from the ambulance, his head and neck in a brace. The trolley rattling against the pavement, they wheeled him into the hospital with Amy following close behind. Luka himself was a crime scene. His clothes would be seized, a blood sample and forensics taken as soon as police were allowed.
‘I’ll have to ask you to wait here,’ the paramedic said as they came to a set of double doors. Amy watched, helpless, as their best chance of finding Toby and Ellen was wheeled away.
CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
‘Here. Get this down you.’ The smell of salt and vinegar filled Amy’s senses as Paddy shoved a bag of chips under her nose.
‘I don’t have time.’ Amy was too busy sorting through the paperwork she had just printed off.
‘Eat,’ Paddy said. He was not taking no for an answer. Minutes later, he followed up with a mug of tea. It was ten o’clock at night. Since returning from the hospital, Amy had been caught up in a whirlwind of investigative tasks. Overseeing briefings, liaising with crime-scene operatives and media support, and updating her supervisors. Today had taken its toll. She wolfed down the chips, realising that all she had eaten up to now was a protein bar. She had come back to the station, guns blazing, but DCI Pike had been nowhere to be seen. ‘I can’t believe she’s not here.’ Amy spoke her thoughts aloud. ‘And I’m not buying that rubbish about her being sick.’
‘She was pretty green around the gills when she heard Luka was mown down.’ Just as Amy had feared, Pike had panicked during the operation, instructing officers to move in.
‘If only she’d waited a few more seconds.’ Amy paused to swig her tea. It was missing sugar but it didn’t matter, it tasted like nectar right now.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve had any updates on Luka?’
‘He’s the same – serious but stable. They think he’ll pull through but it’s too early to tell if he has brain damage.’ Amy turned her chair to face her old friend. ‘What am I doing here? I should be on the ground, visiting scrapyards, looking for the missing kids like everyone else.’ Luka’s clothes had been searched. There was no identification on his person, nothing except a set of keys, which were seized by police.
‘We’ve got plenty of boots on the ground. Your time is best spent here.’
Frustrated tears built up behind Amy’s eyes and she swallowed them down. ‘For all the good I’m doing.’
‘Boss, give yourself a break. You haven’t stopped all day.’
Amy sucked the salt stinging her fingers before turning back to her desk. ‘There are answers here somewhere . . . I can feel it. His mother is at the heart of this. And the way he was clutching his forehead. He suffers from migraines, I can tell. Do you think Zitalin caused them, from when he was drugged as a child?’
‘It’s a bit extreme, isn’t it? Almost committing murder to get rid of a headache?’
‘Migraines are nothing like headaches. If you’d had one, you’d know.’ Casting the chip wrapper aside, Amy looked through the paperwork on her desk. ‘They are a painful reminder of Luka’s past. A constant drumming beat that won’t let him move on. Besides, there was someone else in the background. He wasn’t working alone.’ Her eyes fell on an update that had come in earlier that evening. ‘Ahh . . . bingo!’
‘What is it?’ Paddy said, craning his neck to look.
‘Every time Luka spoke about Sasha, he referred to her as Mama. But when he talked about present day, he used the term “Mother”. Don’t you see?’
Paddy frowned. ‘I’m not with you.’
‘Remember the ultimatum Stuart was given? To risk his life for the one he loved. Luka wanted them to know how it felt.’
‘Riiiight . . .’ Paddy said, which basically meant he was in the dark.
‘Luka was saved from the fire but his mother was left to burn.’ She pointed at the copy of the police statement taken earlier that day. ‘It’s written here in black and white. Stuart said he found Sasha dead in her room – but not Luka. That’s when he was beaten back by the flames.’
‘And you believe him? What’s that got to do with Luka’s ultimatum?’
‘Stuart and Nicole were given the chance to risk their lives for the one they loved – something not afforded to Luka. Luka was deprived of the chance to save Sasha from the fire.’
Amy tapped her chin, feeling answers drawing near. ‘Someone’s been helping him. Someone who knows who he is.’
Paddy pointed at the custody photo sitting among the paperwork. ‘The courier. Jamie Richmond.’
‘Yes, but there’s someone else, right under our noses.’ Shifting the papers on her table, she fanned them out like a deck of cards. She had printed off everything she could about the people involved in the case – their financial information, plans of their houses, details about their family, friends, closest relatives – as well as witness reports, a list of police who had investigated the fire at the institute and newspaper reports. ‘Dr Curtis was so proud of his achievements.’ She pointed at a newspaper piece about his latest accolade.
‘Proud enough to commit murder?’
‘Pride can be a terrible thing.’ Amy’s eyes narrowed as a memory surfaced. Dr Curtis’s home and all the framed plaques and photos on the wall. Then Stuart Coughlan’s humble accommodation, family photos littered across the mantelpiece along with some tatty ornaments. Inhaling sharply, Amy drew her hand to her mouth.
‘What is it?’ Paddy said.
‘It might be nothing.’ But Amy’s pulse had picked up speed. ‘Let me see . . .’ She searched through the paperwork and found Gary’s report. George Barber, the funeral director, had dementia, and his words were disjointed and made little sense. But Amy had insisted that Gary made a note of every single one. ‘Who is he?’ she said, tapping her finger against the paperwork.
‘The funeral director,’ Paddy replied.
‘No. Who is he? And who is he talking about here?’ Colour rose to her cheeks as she reread the report. She picked up the phone.
‘Who are you ringing?’
‘Intelligence. I need something more in-depth.’ She turned to Paddy. ‘Do me a favour, will you? Those keys we seized from Luka. Book them out and bring them to me.’
‘For what?’
‘We’re going on a trip. If I’m right, we may be able to save Toby and Ellen after all.’
CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
‘Are you sure about this?’ Paddy said, exiting the car as they parked outside the address.
‘No. Which is why I haven’t called it in.’ Amy shook the bunch of keys loose from her jacket pocket, her shoulders hunched against the speckle of hailstones falling from the sky. They were the keys that had been taken from Luka, booked out of the system for her use.
Amy’s hand rose to the Yale lock and the first silver key slotted in with ease.
‘Shitting hell,’ Paddy whispered as he met Amy’s triumphant gaze. ‘So Luka’s been living here all along?’ He touched her arm as she pressed forward. ‘We should wait, call it in. This needs to be handled properly.’
‘Like they handled Luka properly?’ Amy shook her head. ‘We’re doing this my way.’ Time was running out for Toby and Ellen, and they had every right to enter the property to save the children if their suspicion was strong enough.
A sharp nod of the head relayed that Paddy had her covered.
‘We don’t have long until she gets back,’ Amy whispered as they entered the hall. She had already rung the homeowner and asked to meet her at the station, but she was sure to return home when she discovered Amy was not there.
But footsteps on the upstairs landing told them she was still home. Raising her finger to her lips, Amy instructed Paddy to step to one side as the woman descended the stairs.
‘Going somewhere?’ Amy said, nodding towards the suitcase in Deborah’s hand.
Open-mouthed, Deborah looked from Paddy to Amy, the colour draining from her face. ‘I thought you were at the station. What are you doing in my house?’
Ope
ning her palm, Amy showed her the set of keys. ‘Courtesy of Luka. Or should I say Max?’ Amy rattled off a police caution, informing her she was under arrest before signalling to Paddy to search the house. Amy’s gaze was on Deborah’s left hand, which was hidden behind her back. As she took another step forward, she could see why. Deborah was holding a knife.
‘Get back from the door,’ said Deborah, dropping her suitcase on the steps and raising the knife to chest height.
‘You don’t think we’re going to let you leave, do you?’ Amy replied. ‘We’ve spoken to your dad in the care home. We know about Luka – his key fits your door.’ Amy’s call to the intelligence team had borne fruit, confirming Deborah’s family connection with the undertaker.
Deborah’s features twisted as she realised she was cornered. ‘I should have known my father couldn’t let things go.’ Their family spat was most likely why Deborah had taken her mother’s maiden name. True, the funeral director’s words were rambling but, as quite often with dementia, memories of the past were sharper than the present day. It was when he had mentioned the name Max that everything fell into place.
‘She was only fourteen . . .’ he’d said. ‘We didn’t even know . . . When the baby was born it was too late. There was only one thing to do . . .’ That was when Amy had pieced it together. A secret child. Deborah had given birth at the age of fourteen and the little boy was stillborn. Using his undertaking business, Deborah’s father had disposed of the body to spare the family shame. But the deed had come back to haunt him. Had Deborah used their guilty secret to claim another favour? There was so much yet to uncover. What about the other children in Curtis’s care? Deborah had been young when she began working for the doctor. How had she coped with what she found there?
Luka had fulfilled a long-buried need that had been eating away inside Deborah since the age of fourteen. He was also the same age as her child, Max, would have been, had he lived.
The Secret Child (A DI Amy Winter Thriller Book 2) Page 26