Stephen Leather: Nightmare

‘I’m nine,’ said Sophie, looking out over the river.

‘Yes, you look a bit older than Sarah,’ said Hoyle.

Nightingale pressed the bell for the third time but he already knew that there was no one in. He took a step back and kicked the door hard, just below the lock. It shuddered but didn’t give. Taking another step back he kicked harder this time, putting all his weight behind it, and he heard wood splinter. The third kick left the door hanging on one hinge and it hit the floor with the fourth.

He walked over the door and down the hallway. The flat was the same layout as the one directly below: a kitchen diner and two bedrooms on the left, a bathroom and one bedroom on the right, and a large sitting room with a terrace overlooking the Thames. The sitting-room windows ran from floor to ceiling and to the left was a door that led out to the terrace.

There were abstract canvases on the walls, a huge glass coffee table covered with fashion magazines, and a baby grand piano at the far end that was covered with family photographs.

Nightingale strode over to the door. There was a key in the lock and he turned it and stepped out onto the terrace. There was a wooden bench there and a bird table that had a mesh bag of peanuts hanging from it. He wanted a cigarette but knew that he didn’t have time. He took off his coat and tossed it onto the bench, then leaned over the railing and looked down.

Sophie was sitting with her feet hanging over the edge of the balcony, the doll clutched to her chest. She had turned towards Robbie and was listening to him. Nightingale smiled. Robbie Hoyle could talk the hind legs off a donkey. He retrieved his mobile from his coat and took a deep breath.

A helicopter flew along the Thames, heading towards Battersea heliport. ‘Have you ever been in a helicopter, Sophie?’ asked Hoyle.

She shook her head but didn’t say anything.

Hoyle knew that he had to keep the little girl talking. So long as she was talking she couldn’t be thinking about jumping.

‘What about a plane? Have you been in a plane?’

‘We went to Italy last year,’ she said.

‘Yeah? I’ve never been to Italy. Was it fun?’

Sophie didn’t reply. She kissed her doll on the top of the head. ‘Don’t worry, Jessica, everything’s going to be okay.’

‘What do you like to eat, Sophie?’ asked Hoyle, trying to get her attention. He took a step towards her.

She looked over at him as if she’d forgotten that he was there. ‘Excuse me?’

He stopped moving. ‘What’s your favourite food?’

‘Pizza. Inga always lets me order pizza.’

‘Who’s Inga?’

‘My au pair.’ She forced a smile. ‘The au pair at the moment. We change au pairs a lot.’

‘But you like Inga?’

‘She’s okay.’

Hoyle felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He wanted to take the call, to tell Nightingale that everything was all right and that he was getting through to the girl, but he knew that it was important to stay focused. Nightingale had been right. The girl wasn’t scared, she wasn’t seeking attention; it was as if she had made up her mind what she was going to do and was just waiting for the right moment.

‘Why don’t we go inside and I’ll order us a pizza?’ said Hoyle. He moved closer to the side of the terrace. There were several potted plants and if he judged it right he’d be able to spring off one and jump over to the terrace where she was. Six feet. Seven at most. Then another four feet to get to her.

‘I’m not hungry,’ she said.

‘What about a drink? Do you like Coke? Or Pepsi?’

‘Coke, of course,’ she said scornfully.

And that was when Nightingale dropped from the sky.

Nightingale let go of the railing. For a moment he seemed to be frozen in time and then gravity got to work and pulled him down. He twisted around, his hair whipping in the wind, ignoring the fear and focusing every fibre of his being on Sophie and what he had to do.

The bricks of the terrace wall flashed by his face and then he was looking down at Sophie, her face turned to the left, the doll in her hands clutched to her chest.

He saw Hoyle, one foot on a plant pot, the other over the railing, his right hand outstretched as he jumped.

The doll slipped from Sophie’s fingers and it span through the air.

Nightingale’s stomach lurched and he grunted as his hands flailed towards the girl.

Hoyle opened his mouth to scream but all Nightingale could hear was the wind rushing past his ears.

The doll tumbled over the side of the balcony but Sophie didn’t seem to have noticed. She was staring at Hoyle with wide eyes but she wasn’t moving and she hadn’t seen Nightingale dropping from the balcony above her. Hoyle cleared the railing and scrambled across the terrace just as Nightingale reached Sophie.

Sophie screamed as Nightingale pushed her in the chest and she fell backwards.

Hoyle threw himself forward and caught Sophie under the arms. She slammed into his chest, knocking the breath out of him, and as he gasped he locked eyes with Nightingale.

Sophie fell backwards into Hoyle’s arms, her mouth open in surprise, as Nightingale’s chest thudded against the railing. His right arm was outstretched towards Sophie but he managed to catch hold of the railing with his left hand. He fell but jerked to a halt and the momentum almost wrenched his arm from its socket. He felt the skin scrape from his palm but there was barely any pain because of the adrenaline that was coursing through his body.

He heard screams from far below and one man’s shout sounded like he was telling people to keep back, but all Nightingale could think about was that Sophie was okay.

He smiled and then reached up with his right hand, gasping for breath. He managed to grab the railing and he tried to haul himself up but he didn’t have the strength so he just hung there, his face pressed against the balcony wall, breathing heavily.

‘Jack!’ screamed Hoyle. He had turned Sophie round so that her face was pressed against his chest; now, keeping a firm grip of her with his left hand, he reached out with his right. He didn’t want to let go of the girl but he couldn’t let his friend fall. His fingers touched the back of Nightingale’s left hand and he took another step forward, grabbing Nightingale’s wrist. ‘Hold on, Jack!’ he shouted.

Sophie was crying, her tears soaking into Hoyle’s shirt.

He felt Nightingale’s hand start to slip from the railing.

‘Jack, hold on!’ Hoyle yelled.

Sophie wrapped her arms around Hoyle’s waist. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, sobbing.

Hoyle reached out with his left hand, trying to grab Nightingale’s other wrist, but Sophie was in the way.

‘Jack, hold on, man!’ he screamed. He pushed Sophie down onto the terrace with his left hand. ‘Stay down, honey, just for a moment, please.’

‘Robbie, it’s okay,’ said Nightingale. He forced a smile. ‘It was always going to end this way.’

‘I’ve got you. I’ve got you,’ said Hoyle. As he grabbed at Nightingale’s right hand both Nightingale’s hands slipped from the railing. Hoyle grunted as he took all of his friend’s weight.

‘No, you haven’t, mate,’ said Nightingale. He could feel his wrists slipping through Hoyle’s fingers.

‘Jack!’ shouted Hoyle.

‘It’s okay, Robbie. Really. It’s okay.’ And Nightingale meant it because it really was okay.

‘No!’ Hoyle screamed.

Nightingale felt his left hand slip from Hoyle’s grip and then his right hand was free and he was falling backwards, away from the balcony.