Knife Edge

'We need your help,' Calloway said. 'You know a man called Robert Neville, we need some information about him.'

'They said that when they arrested me,' Baxter murmured.

'You're not under arrest,' Calloway assured him. 'We just need some help.'

'Why pick on me?'

'As I said, you know Neville.'

'What makes you think that?'

'You were in the army together,' Calloway said, as if he needed to refresh Baxter's memory.

'I was in the army with a lot of blokes, it doesn't mean I can remember all of them,' Baxter said dismissively.

Calloway regarded Baxter carefully.

Why so aggressive?

Baxter was still rocking back and forth on his chair.

Something bothering you?

'What can you remember about him?' the DI asked.

Baxter shrugged. 'He was pretty quiet, kept himself to himself. What do you want to know?'

'We want to know what you know,' Mason interjected irritably.

Calloway shot him a warning glance.

Baxter smiled mockingly again.

'Was Neville still in your unit when you were thrown out of the army?' the DS persisted.

Baxter stopped rocking on his chair and allowed it to drop forward. 'What the fuck are you talking about?'

'We know about the court martial,' Mason said gleefully.

'It was never proved. None of the charges were,' Baxter growled.

'They proved enough to throw you out,' Mason chided.

'Who's on fucking trial here, anyway?' rasped Baxter. 'I thought you wanted to know about Neville.'

'We do. Why don't you tell us what you know,' Calloway added. 'Have you seen him since you left the army?'

'No,' Baxter said flatly.

'He hasn't rung you?' the DI continued. 'Hasn't tried to contact you at work?'

'No.'

Baxter began turning the Sovereign ring gently on his finger, his gaze wavering slightly.

Calloway leaned forward in his seat, both hands clasped on the table before him. 'Did Neville know why you were thrown out of the army?'

'Everybody knew,' Baxter sneered. 'When the fucking army stitch you up, they make a good job of it.'

'Why do it?' Calloway enquired. 'Why would the army do it if there was no truth in the charges?'

'No smoke without fire, eh?' Mason smiled.

'I never sold guns to anyone,' Baxter told the policemen. 'And, even if I did, that's got fuck all to do with you. I'm not under arrest, you said that.' He pointed an accusing finger in Calloway's direction.

'Did Neville have anything to do with it?' Calloway persisted.

'I thought this was about Neville.'

'It is, but you're not telling us much,' the DI said.

'We heard you were close,' Mason pressed.

'And who the hell told you that?' Baxter demanded.

'Come on, Mr Baxter. You served together, in the same unit, for how long? Seven years? Eight years?' Calloway said. 'The Paras are supposed to be different, aren't they? A team? Everyone counting on everyone else? Neville must have spoken about the way he felt, about what was going on in Ireland. Did he tell you about his family?'

'He was married with a kid, I know that.'

'Did you ever meet his family?'

'No.'

'How long have you worked for Nemesis Security?' Mason asked.

'Eighteen months.'

'Do you enjoy your work?' the DS continued.

'It's better than drawing the bloody dole.'

'It must be dangerous sometimes though,' Mason insisted.

Baxter chuckled.

'So is being a copper, isn't it?' he said, grinning. 'Especially when you've got some nutter letting off bombs.'

Baxter leaned back on the two rear legs of his chair and began rocking once more.

'What do you know about the bombs?' the DI asked.

'Only what I heard on the news,' Baxter said. 'When's the next one?'

Calloway looked at his watch.

'In about forty-five minutes,' he said quietly.

Baxter got to his feet.

'Well, I hope you find it,' he said, smiling. 'Now, if there's nothing else, I've got work to do.'

'Sit down, Mr Baxter,' Calloway said.

'Why? You said I wasn't under arrest. If that's true I must be free to go. I came here of my own free will and now I want to leave.'

'Before you do, there's someone else I'd like you to speak to,' said Calloway softly.

1.53 P.M.

'You're crazy,' said Julie Neville, a note of incredulity in her voice.

Doyle took another drag on his cigarette and held her gaze.

'You want to use my daughter as bait to catch Bob?' she said, shaking her head. 'I can't believe that.'

'It's Lisa he wants,' Doyle said. 'That's all he wants. Not money. Not some political bullshit and no plane to fucking Cuba. He wants his daughter, pure and simple.'

'No wonder they sent you after him. You're crazier than he is. Do you honestly believe I'd let you give Lisa to him?'

'I'm not talking about giving her to him, I'm talking about using her to tempt him out into the open.'

'You're talking about using her as bait. You can call it what you like but that's what you want to do.'

'A lot of people are going to die if I don't get him soon. All I want is a little help. She wouldn't be in any danger. I'd be there.'

'And that's supposed to make me feel better? Forget it.'

'He's not going to hurt her, is he? Be logical. She's the only thing he wants. He won't harm her.'

'Doyle, she's my daughter too.'

'I'm not going to give her to him.'

'So what are you going to do?'

'Tell him he can have her. When he turns up to get her, I'll kill him.'

Julie swallowed hard.

'Just like that?' she said softly.

Doyle nodded.

'And if something goes wrong? What if he kills you? What happens to Lisa then?'

The sitting-room door opened and Doyle looked up to see WPC Robertson standing there.

'There's a phone call for you, Mr Doyle,' she said. 'It's DI Calloway. He says it's important.'

Doyle nodded and got to his feet, following the policewoman out into the hall and through to the kitchen where she nodded towards the phone.

***

In the sitting-room, Julie Neville got to her feet and crossed to the TV set. She stood staring blankly at the screen for a moment then switched the set off. She could see her own reflection in the blank eye of the television.

She moved to the sitting-room window and peered out. A number of cars were parked in the street, but only one of them had an occupant.

A uniformed policeman was sitting in an Astra about fifteen yards from the front door of number fifty-nine Mitre Road. He was yawning, she noticed, shuffling uncomfortably in his seat, occasionally glancing around at the few people who passed by.

Julie watched him for a few seconds longer, then made her way out to the hall and up the stairs.

As she climbed she could hear Doyle's voice coming from the kitchen but she took no notice of what he was saying.

She reached the landing and headed for the first door on her left.

Lisa Neville didn't look up as her mother entered, she seemed more concerned with the dolls which were scattered around her. Julie watched as the little girl carefully dressed one in a red swimsuit, using a tiny plastic comb to untangle the knotted synthetic hair.

Julie felt an almost uncontrollable urge to rush across to her daughter and sweep her up in her arms. Anything just to feel the warmth of her body, but instead she knelt down on the floor beside her child and reached out one hand, stroking the little girl's hair.

'Mum, do you think Cindy is beautiful?' Lisa held up the swimsuit-clad doll for inspection.