Shaun Hutson - Knife Edge

Julie Neville was seated on the sofa in the room, slender legs drawn up beneath her, both hands cradling a mug of coffee.

'What do you want?' she said, looking at Doyle dismissively.

'A chat.'

'Another one?' she said, sipping her coffee.

Doyle looked at the WPC.

'If that coffee's fresh I'd love a cup, please, Lucy.' He smiled.

He sat down beside Julie Neville who pulled her bare feet closer to her, away from the counter terrorist.

He ran his finger along the sole of her right foot.

She glared at him.

The WPC was still hesitating in the doorway.

'White, one sugar,' Doyle said, staring at her, his steely grey eyes narrowing. 'Now, please, Lucy.'

The policewoman glanced at Julie who nodded slowly.

'I'll be all right,' she said softly.

'Call if you need me,' said the WPC and stepped outside the room.

'Very cosy,' Doyle said. 'They seem to be looking after you.'

'What do you care, Doyle?'

'I think you read me wrong, Julie. I do care. Where's your daughter?'

'Lisa's upstairs. Lucy's been keeping her entertained. They seem to be getting on pretty well.'

'So, not all coppers are bastards then?'

'I didn't say they were.'

She took the cigarette he offered, sucking hard on it as he lit it for her.

Julie blew a stream of smoke in Doyle's direction as she exhaled.

'I heard about the bombs,' she said quietly.

Doyle nodded.

'How many people has he killed?'

The counter terrorist shrugged. 'Including the second bomb, it must be over twenty now.'

'Oh, Christ,' she murmured, running a hand through her hair. 'How are you going to stop him?'

'I'll get him, don't worry about it,' Doyle assured her.

'You seem very certain of that, Doyle.'

'I am. But I need your help.'

She looked quizzically at him.

'He's not going to stop until he gets what he wants,' Doyle told her. 'And he wants his daughter.'

Julie sat up, her eyes fixed on Doyle.

'It's the only way, Julie,' he told her. 'That's why I'm here. I need your daughter.'

As Calloway and Mason stepped inside the interview room at New Scotland Yard, Kenneth Baxter hesitated.

He stood motionless at the threshold, gazing around the room which was empty but for a table, four chairs and a tape recorder, which Calloway sat down next to.

Mason leaned against the wall behind his superior.

Baxter finally followed them in, eyeing both policemen warily, pausing again when Calloway gestured towards one of the chairs on the other side of the table.

'You haven't told me what the charge is,' said Baxter.

'There is no charge, Mr Baxter,' the DI told him, watching as the other man finally sat down.

'What do you think we should be charging you with?' Mason enquired.

Baxter smiled and leaned back in his chair, clasping his fingers together on his stomach. He wore a large Gold Sovereign ring on the middle finger of his right hand and the light from the fluorescents in the ceiling glinted on the metal as he rocked gently back and forth.

'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.

'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?'