The Toy Taker by Delaney Luke

Author:Delaney, Luke [Delaney, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2014-02-13T00:00:00+00:00

7

Sean stood on the pavement outside an art deco building in Swiss Cottage, north-west London, close to the bizarrely styled nearby pub that lent its name to the entire area. Throngs of pedestrians marched past him as he searched through the dozens of name plates next to the building’s entrance for the one he needed, their footsteps drowned out by the incessant din of the traffic, exhaust fumes making the air acrid and difficult to breathe. He eventually spotted the one he was looking for, but found himself hesitating before pressing the intercom, a voice in his head telling him to run away – run far away and never come back. He breathed in deeply, coughing slightly on the exhaust fumes as he pushed the doubt away and rang the buzzer. After a few seconds he heard a voice he didn’t recognize.

‘Dr Ravenni-Ceron’s office.’

Dr Anna Ravenni-Ceron, the psychiatrist and criminologist who’d been attached, against Sean’s wishes, to the last case he had investigated. At the time he’d been so intent on tracking down Thomas Keller and preventing him from abducting and murdering any more women that he’d not even noticed his feelings towards her changing, although he knew he’d come to at the very least respect her determination. But since he’d got out of hospital he’d thought of her more than he’d ever expected to, and now he was standing on the pavement outside her office.

He cleared his throat before answering. ‘I’m here to see Anna.’

‘Do you have an appointment?’ the voice asked suspiciously.

‘I don’t need an appointment,’ he said into the metal box hanging on the wall. ‘Just tell Dr Ravenni-Ceron that Detective Inspector Sean Corrigan is here and needs to see her.’

‘Can I ask what it’s about?’ the box replied.

‘It’s personal,’ he answered, regretting it immediately, wishing instead he’d told the inquisitive voice it was confidential. He winced at his mistake and waited for a response.

‘I see,’ the voice eventually replied. ‘I’ll just see if she’s available. Wait there a minute please.’ He was about to argue, but the connection went dead.

‘Shit,’ he cursed, hopping from one foot to the other, trying to defend himself against the cold and his growing feeling of awkwardness, sure that he was as conspicuous as he felt standing in the doorway of the art deco monolith. Finally the intercom crackled back into life.

‘Dr Ravenni-Ceron will see you now. We’re on the third floor, room 323. You can take the lift or you can use the stairs.’ The door clicked open and the line went dead. He paused for a second before opening the door and entering, sure his feet would take over and lead him away, but instead they took him inside and up the stairs to the third floor, doubts and anxiety giving way to excitement and anticipation.

When he reached room 323 he was relieved to discover there was no intercom to negotiate, just an unlocked door and a secretary in her early thirties sitting behind a desk in the small, simple reception.

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