Knife Edge

by Fergus McNeill

  ‘Clever,’ Mendel muttered grudgingly.

  ‘Very.’

  Everything their suspect had done seemed calculated to make things impossible for them. Again, he felt the stirring of old memories, the uneasy echo of the Severn Beach case. But Mendel had warned him off that one already … and sleeping with someone’s girlfriend didn’t mean you could implicate them in every unsolved crime, however much you wanted to.

  They sat in silence for a moment.

  ‘So, does Pearce have anything else?’ Mendel asked. ‘From what you’ve said, it seems like he’s not had much luck.’

  ‘No, he hasn’t,’ Harland agreed. ‘And with all that media exposure, he’s under a lot of pressure to make an arrest …’

  He hesitated, wondering how best to broach the subject. ‘That wasn’t really what he wanted to see me about though.’

  ‘Oh?’ Mendel looked up.

  ‘He was fishing. To see if I had any interest in moving over to Bristol CID.’

  ‘Well, well …’ The big man’s expression betrayed a momentary twinge of regret, but he covered it with a smile. ‘Congratulations, Graham.’

  ‘Thanks.’ He felt awkward now. Whatever the ups and downs of the last few months, it had been great working with Mendel again. ‘Told Pearce I’d give it some thought, but I’m not really sure how I feel about moving at the moment.’

  ‘It’d be a hell of a commute for you – what is it, five minutes from your house?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Typical Mendel – always putting a brave face on things. A transfer to Bristol might get Harland’s career moving again, but he would miss his old friend.

  He turned and glanced up at the clock.

  ‘What time have we got to be at the court?’ Mendel asked.

  ‘As long as we’re there before one.’ Harland pushed back his chair. ‘Shall we get going?’

  ‘Yeah, we wouldn’t want to keep Leroy waiting.’

  Harland picked up his jacket, checked he had his phone, then followed Mendel out into the corridor.

  ‘Want me to drive?’ the big man asked him.

  ‘No, I’m fine,’ Harland replied.

  They made their way down the stairs.

  ‘Hey, I’ve just thought of another silver lining for you.’ Mendel grinned as they walked towards the door. ‘You get to work with Pope again.’

  Harland shot his friend a bleak look.

  ‘You take the fun out of everything.’

  The court was a large building, with white walls, marble floors and an oppressive civic hush that discouraged casual conversation. Harland and Mendel walked down the long corridor, their footsteps echoing out before them into the main waiting area, where scrubbed-up relatives and nervous witnesses glanced up expectantly before lowering their eyes and returning to their own concerns.

  There weren’t many free seats but Harland knew the place well enough – he peered through the glass door of a small side room, then opened it for Mendel and followed him inside.

  ‘Reckon they’re running on time?’ the big man asked, wandering over to the window and glancing down at his watch.

  ‘Don’t know,’ Harland said, turning to ease the door closed and looking back through the glass. ‘Plenty of people in the waiting area, but they don’t look like they’re from Team Leroy.’

  Mendel chuckled.

  ‘Team Leroy …’ He shook his head, smiling. ‘They’ll be too busy worrying about their own court dates to come and cheer him on.’

  ‘I suppose so,’ Harland mused. ‘Don’t see his mum out there. Thought she might have shown up.’

  ‘She knows the score by now,’ Mendel shrugged. ‘Leroy’s brother is a regular and his dad’s inside.’

  ‘Proud family tradition,’ Harland muttered, and turned away from the door.

  There were four chairs set against the far wall. Mendel lowered himself onto one of them and yawned.

  ‘Think Leroy will go down for long?’ he asked.

  ‘Not long enough,’ Harland sighed. ‘But at least he gave us the rest of the gang.’

  ‘I won’t miss them,’ Mendel nodded. ‘Think we’ll get less call-outs to the Long Cross area once they’re banged up?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Harland joked, ‘maybe we can all put our feet up.’

  He moved across the room and sat down beside his friend.

  Neither of them spoke for a while. It was Mendel who finally broke the silence.

  ‘Still on for the comedy club next week?’

  Damn.

  ‘It completely slipped my mind,’ Harland grimaced. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘What’s the matter? Another candlelit meeting with Pearce?’

  ‘It’s not that …’

  Mendel gave him a sly smile.

  ‘Seeing your mystery woman again?’ he asked.

  Harland glanced across at him.

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘Come on then,’ Mendel pressed. ‘Tell me about her.’

  Harland sat forward in his chair and frowned. He had to say something – maybe just the basics for now. No need to elaborate just yet.

  ‘Well, her name is Kim …’ He pictured her in his mind, imagining all the things he’d like to say about her but couldn’t. ‘She’s twenty-nine, and she’s an accountant.’

  Once again, he was struck by how little he knew about her. Perhaps that was what made this stage of a relationship so exciting – so much potential, no disappointments yet.

  ‘And?’ Mendel prompted him. ‘Blonde? Brunette? White stick and a guide dog?’

  ‘Very funny,’ Harland sighed.

  Mendel chuckled to himself.

  ‘So have you been seeing her long?’ he asked.

  ‘A little while, yes.’

  ‘Sounds like it could be serious.’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Harland murmured. He found that he didn’t want to think that far ahead. ‘Wait and see, I suppose …’

  ‘Uh-oh,’ Mendel grinned, ‘sounds like it is serious.’

  Harland shrugged and said nothing. His eyes drifted to the door, wishing a court usher would come and interrupt them.

  ‘So, where did you meet her?’ Mendel asked, settling back and stretching his legs out.

  Harland frowned. It was going to be impossible to talk around this and he really didn’t want to deceive his friend.

  ‘Look, if I tell you something …’ he glanced across ‘… I don’t want you to get all worked up about it, OK?’

  Mendel shot him a puzzled frown. ‘Go on then.’

  Harland took a deep breath and exhaled with a sigh.

  ‘You remember that woman who came to Portishead? The one with the story about the Severn Beach case?’

  He paused, waiting for it to register. Mendel stared at him for a moment, then his face creased into a frown and he closed his eyes in despair.

  ‘Oh no. Come on, Graham, not her?’

  Harland stared at him, then looked down.

  Keep quiet for a moment, let him get his head around it.

  Mendel stiffened and got to his feet, pacing slowly across the room as the uncomfortable silence grew between them. Finally, he turned on his heel, arms folded as he glared back.

  ‘What the hell are you doing, Graham?’ he demanded. ‘I mean really, what the hell?’

  ‘I know—’

  ‘She’s a potential witness in a murder investigation.’

  ‘I know—’

  ‘And we’ve been ordered to keep well away from that case.’

  Harland sagged in his chair.

  ‘I’m not involved with the case,’ he muttered. ‘I passed all the information over to the Met—’

  ‘Not involved?’ Mendel spread his palms in exasperation. ‘You could compromise the whole thing! This is a defence lawyer’s wet dream.’

  Harland put his hand across his eyes and rubbed them, conscious of where he was.

  Mendel was right of course. No matter how he tried to excuse it, he knew he was involving himself with someone he shouldn’t. Here
he was, thinking about how Pearce’s offer might revitalise his career, and at the same time he was digging himself deeper into a relationship that could ruin it.

  He sighed and glanced up tentatively at his friend.

  Mendel had been scowling at him, but his face softened and there was the hint of a wry smile as he shook his head slowly.

  ‘I don’t know, Graham …’ He leaned against the far wall. ‘You can’t do anything the easy way, can you?’

  Harland acknowledged him with a grateful nod.

  ‘Thanks,’ he said simply.

  He checked his watch. It was only a quarter past one – they could be there for a while yet.

  ‘So …’ Mendel seemed to be regaining his usual calm. ‘When are you seeing her next?’

  For a brief moment, Harland thought about admitting that she was staying with him, but quickly decided not to. He had pushed things with Mendel enough today. There was no way of knowing how the big man would react to another revelation and, in truth, he wasn’t really certain how it was going to work out with Kim. They’d been thrown together suddenly and now that things were settling down a bit, he wasn’t sure what would happen. But he knew that there was something about her that affected him, that he had a peace he’d not felt for a long time. And he wanted that.

  For now. For as long as it lasted.

  ‘Not sure,’ he replied. ‘Tonight, probably.’

  ‘Don’t get me wrong.’ Mendel’s tone was more concerned than angry now. ‘I want to see you happy with someone. But you’ve had a rough enough time and I don’t want to see you get messed around …’

  He tailed off, leaving the warning unspoken.

  ‘I appreciate that,’ Harland nodded thoughtfully. ‘But I have to see where this goes, or I’ll regret it. Do you understand?’

  Mendel looked at him for a long time, then sighed and sat down on the chair beside him.

  ‘Just watch yourself, OK?’ he growled.

  50

  Tuesday, 23 September

  Kim frowned. Picking up the half-eaten packet of biscuits, she twisted the top closed, and walked over to put them away in the cupboard. Out of sight, out of mind.

  It wasn’t even five thirty yet, but she’d found herself hungry, and Graham wouldn’t be back from work for a while yet. She wondered if he’d got the packet for her, or if she’d been eating something he’d bought for himself. He did seem to be keeping the cupboards more full than when she’d first arrived, but the last thing she needed now was to start comfort eating.

  She turned and went back to her seat at the kitchen table. The local property paper was still open in front of her and she began to leaf through the pages again.

  Hotwells. Kingsdown. St Pauls. She had no clear notion of where any of these areas were, or what they were like. Thus far, the prices had seemed high and she sighed as her eye scanned the page, taking in the tiny photographs and the big numbers.

  She’d have to sell the house in Taunton. It had certainly shot up in value, and at least that would get her a reasonable deposit on somewhere in Bristol. She frowned, thinking about Sarah and Simon, but it was her house after all. Did they have any money put aside to buy her out? Even if they did, she might struggle to get a new mortgage until she’d been working for a while. There had been two very positive job interviews last week, and she was confident she’d be earning again soon, but for now her options were limited.

  And then there was Graham.

  She sat back in her chair, absently twirling a strand of hair around her index finger. He might not have the easy good looks that had always snared her in the past, but there was something about him. He certainly cared for her, and when he was with her she felt safe, secure …

  But it was more than that.

  There was something different in the way he treated her – as though it was all right to take the lead, to make her own decisions. A sense of freedom without the ache of loneliness …

  She shook her head, and flipped forward through the pages until she came to the Properties To Let section.

  Just in case.

  The ringtone startled her, shattering the stillness of the house. Pushing her chair back from the table, she got up and walked across to the counter to retrieve her phone. Picking it up, she anxiously checked the name on the screen, then breathed a sigh of relief when she saw it was Sarah. She hit the answer button.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Hey, sis, how’s it going?’ Sarah sounded as if she was in a good mood.

  ‘Fine thanks,’ Kim replied. ‘How are you and Simon?’

  She walked back across to the table, sitting down and trying to find her place on the page again.

  ‘Simon’s away in Swansea or somewhere today,’ Sarah was saying. ‘I wasn’t properly awake when he told me this morning – could be anywhere really – and we’ve been rushed off our feet at work this afternoon because that new guy got fired …’

  Kim smiled and propped her head up with one elbow on the table while her other hand traced down a list of apartments in Bristol Central.

  ‘… but that’s not why I’m phoning you.’

  ‘What is it then?’

  ‘You’ll never guess.’ Sarah’s voice was hushed now, as though she was savouring the news she was about to reveal. ‘Rob called.’

  Kim jerked upright in her chair.

  ‘He phoned you?’ she asked, her stomach tightening.

  ‘Yeah,’ Sarah replied. ‘Seemed a bit down, poor thing.’

  Kim sat frozen for a moment, then desperately gulped a breath of air.

  ‘What did he want?’ she stammered.

  ‘Well …’ Sarah paused for effect. ‘He said he wanted me to let you know there’re no hard feelings.’

  ‘What?’ Kim choked.

  Another pause, and this time Sarah’s tone contained a hint of reproach.

  ‘He told me, you see. About the money you took.’

  Kim’s mind was reeling. She got shakily to her feet, pressing the phone hard against her ear.

  ‘I think he’s still carrying a torch for you,’ Sarah continued, undaunted. ‘I wasn’t sure what to say to him really – it’s not my place to start taking sides.’

  Taking sides?

  ‘What did you say to him?’ Kim snapped. ‘What did you tell him about me?’

  ‘What could I tell him?’ Sarah retorted. ‘You’ve certainly been keeping me in the dark about what you’re up to …’

  Kim bent forward, bowing her head wearily.

  ‘I just needed some time to think,’ she explained. ‘Is that so unreasonable?’

  At the other end of the line, Sarah chuckled.

  ‘I’m not stupid, you know.’ There was an edge to her voice.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘All this rubbish about Rob cheating, about you staying in a B & B.’

  Kim shook her head.

  ‘What are you saying?’ she asked.

  ‘I know, sis.’ Sarah snapped at her. ‘I know all about you, shacked up with your detective in Bristol …’

  It was like a physical blow and Kim staggered backwards, one arm stretching out to steady herself against the table. Everything was wrong.

  ‘How …?’ she stammered.

  ‘Rob told me,’ Sarah scolded. ‘Poor thing, I think he’s really missing you …’

  Rob told me.

  The hand holding the phone dropped to her side, and Kim heard nothing more.

  How? How could he possibly know?

  She put the phone on the table and stumbled over to the sink, bracing herself with both hands as she leaned over it, not sure if she was going to be sick.

  ‘Shacked up’. He must know where she was staying.

  She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to calm her breathing even as her pulse raced, thumping in her ears.

  He must know about this house.

  A sudden urge to run gripped her. She pushed herself away from the sink and dashed into the hall, grabbing her handbag as she approa
ched the front door. Her fingers were almost on the handle when she froze, then changed her mind and hurriedly fumbled the security chain into place.

  Backing away from the door, she turned and scurried upstairs, pacing urgently along the landing and into the front bedroom.

  Very cautiously, she pulled the curtain open just a crack so that she could look out into the street without being seen. Her eyes traced along the line of cars – there was no sign of his.

  Relaxing just a little, she sat down heavily on the bed, waiting for her breathing to settle down.

  Why? Why couldn’t it just be over?

  She bowed her head, waiting for the tears, but none came. After a few moments, she got to her feet and went back to the window.

  She had to get out.

  51

  Wednesday, 24 September

  She sat alone, squeezed into a corner at the back of the small café, well away from the windows. Her laptop was open in front of her, but the screen was dark as she peered out over the top at each new customer who came in, watching them walk over to the counter.

  She hated feeling like this, hated the dread, the helpless waiting.

  Reaching absently for her drink, her fingers found the tall china mug, but it had long since gone cold. She sighed, resting her palms on the polished wooden tabletop, and glanced back to the door.

  It was all right. She’d been careful. There was no way he could find her in here … but hadn’t she thought the same about Graham’s house on Stackpool Road? Somehow Rob had known about that, tracked her down. Had he been following her all the time? Toying with her?

  She shook her head, weary, annoyed. It didn’t matter. Right now, all that mattered was how she was going to escape.

  A movement caught her eye. Outside, a tall man in a suit approached, silhouetted in the doorway. She tensed, squinting against the light, then relaxed when she saw it was a stranger. Leaning forward, she allowed her head to rest in her hands, suddenly very tired.

  She’d hardly slept last night. Lying there in the dark, staring across at the wall, listening as the sounds of the city outside grew quieter. Waiting until she was sure Graham was asleep, then slipping out of bed and creeping over to the window. Pulling back the curtain to gaze down on the street, still and silent … knowing he was out there somewhere.