Knife Edge

by Fergus McNeill

  ‘Someone just made some money, I think.’ Andreas inclined his head towards the window.

  ‘What?’ Naysmith looked back at him for a moment. ‘Oh, yes, I see what you mean.’

  The woman must have had the curtains closed while she was with a customer.

  He glanced back at the window, taking in the elegant curve of her neck, the calm expression on her face, and felt the eagerness grow in him. She looked a lot like Kim.

  ‘Rob?’ Andreas was looking at him. ‘You want that I go for a walk? Maybe meet you in the bar a little later?’

  Naysmith laughed.

  ‘No, no, she just reminded me of someone,’ he explained. ‘Anyway, I generally manage without paying for it.’

  The tall German held up his hands.

  ‘My friend, we all pay for it,’ he said solemnly. ‘One way or another.’

  ‘Andreas! When did you get so cynical?’ Naysmith exclaimed. ‘Come on, where’s this bar you were telling me about? I think you need a beer more than I do.’

  He woke up alone, which was unusual for a trip to Hamburg. Blinking, he leaned over for his phone and checked the time. Then, with a lengthy yawn, he propped himself up against the headboard and looked thoughtfully at the empty half of the bed beside him.

  He’d certainly had motive, and the bar that Andreas led him to had presented plenty of opportunities, but last night Naysmith had been distracted. As they’d stood there, studying the local talent, watching the glittering eyes of the St Pauli girls, his mind had been elsewhere, thinking about someone else. Andreas had looked somewhat crestfallen when they finally stumbled out into the cold night air without a conquest – not even an anecdote about the one that got away – but Naysmith had been strangely content as he slumped into the taxi.

  Now he reached across for his phone, his thumb tapping the speed dial for Kim. He stifled another yawn, then held the handset to his ear for a moment, but the number was beeping. Unobtainable, or a network error – he lost track of which tone meant what in some countries – but it didn’t matter. He would call her later. Placing the phone on the bedside table, he threw off the duvet and padded through to the bathroom.

  It was his favourite hotel in Hamburg. Maybe not the most exclusive, and certainly not the most expensive, but the Gastwerk had real character – a grand old industrial building hollowed out and filled with efficient interior luxury, all housed within a brutal iron framework. Metal gangways soared above beautifully appointed spaces, while light rippled across the surface of the water in large, open culverts. The rooms varied considerably in both size and style, but they always pleased him. Today, as he pulled his jacket on, he considered the exposed-brick walls, the high, recessed windows and the dark comfort of everything around him – only in Germany.

  Smiling, he swept up his key card and went downstairs.

  Andreas would be punctual for their breakfast meeting, but he still had a few minutes before the hour and redialled Kim’s number as he made his way across the foyer to the dining room. A brief moment of silence before the ‘unobtainable’ beep again. He sighed – should have called her last night. His eyes scanned the room, but there was no sign of Andreas yet, so he eased himself into a comfortable seat at a table with a good view of the door. He had just finished sending a text message to Kim when he spotted the familiar figure of his colleague approaching and held up a hand to beckon him over.

  ‘Morgen!’ The tall man grinned at him, dropping heavily into a chair. ‘I hope you slept well?’

  ‘Very well, thanks.’ Naysmith smiled. ‘I’m feeling good this morning.’

  ‘Well, it is a very nice hotel.’ Andreas looked around, then leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘Much better than the other place, the one that the Americans use.’

  ‘The one over by the station?’

  Andreas nodded.

  ‘They like to be close to the Alster – the lake – but it’s not a good area at night.’ He held up a hand to bring the waiter across. ‘They call it the needle forest.’

  ‘Needle forest?’

  ‘Ja.’ The German mimed injecting himself with a syringe. ‘Because of the junkies, you know, needle forest?’

  They ordered coffee from the waiter, then went over to the breakfast buffet. Spotless chromed lids hinged up to reveal hot bacon, sausages and eggs steaming in their broad trays. Cold meats and different breads were accompanied by fresh fruit and pastries. Naysmith ignored the cereal selection and returned to the table with a fully laden plate.

  ‘Hungry, yes?’ Andreas grinned his approval.

  ‘Hangover prevention,’ Naysmith replied. He picked up his knife and balanced it thoughtfully across two fingers. ‘I appreciate you coming over this morning. I’ve not got long before my flight, but I wanted to have a quiet word about the other accounts that the Hamburg team are running.’

  ‘Of course.’ Andreas nodded earnestly. ‘What about them?’

  ‘I don’t want any more situations like the Friedman one. We’ll take a look over all the key accounts and make sure nobody is taking advantage of you.’

  ‘OK.’ Andreas leaned over and pulled his laptop from its bag. ‘And if we find something we don’t like?’

  ‘Same as Friedman.’ He hefted the knife so it was pointing at Andreas, and gave him a cold smile. ‘We teach them not to do it again.’

  He was back in London by lunchtime, breezing through the arrivals hall and outside to the courtesy buses. As he walked to the car, a plane roared down the runway, filling the air with the distinctive aroma of aviation fuel. He took out his phone and considered calling Kim again, then decided against it – she’d mentioned something about working from home today – and he wanted to surprise her. Reaching the car, he opened the passenger door to slide his bag down into the footwell, then placed the bouquet of flowers carefully on the seat before hanging his jacket in the back.

  He smiled to himself as he got in and started the engine. It was going to be an excellent afternoon.

  As he turned off the main road into the village, he was tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, in time with the music on the stereo. Past the bowling green and over the bridge, following the tarmac as it swept around under the trees; he slowed as he came to the pub, turning off a moment later to park outside the house.

  He got out and stretched, loosening his muscles after a morning of travel, then retrieved his jacket and pulled it on. He slung his bag over his shoulder, then gently lifted the flowers and walked to the front door. Keys in hand, he reached up to the deadlock, then paused and smiled to himself. He moved his hand across to the door knocker and rapped it smartly three times.

  And waited.

  18

  Friday, 20 June

  The noise made her jump. Pulling the lid of her laptop closed, Kim stood up from the table and moved across the kitchen to peer out into the hallway.

  She knew that knock – it was him.

  She wavered for a moment, then walked silently to the front door.

  Her hand reached out, fingers brushing over the temptation of the safety chain before grasping the deadlock and turning the knob. Forcing her face to relax into a neutral expression, she pulled the door open to let him back in.

  He was smiling at her – that same easy smile that always used to make her feel so needed, so wanted.

  ‘Hey.’ Rob drew a large bouquet of flowers from behind his back. ‘Busy? I got the earlier flight so I thought you might like to go into town and get a coffee.’

  She stared at him – the man she’d fallen for, the man who protected her …

  … the man she’d tried to turn in.

  The confusion of feelings that had driven her to Severn Beach were gone now, and she wondered what she’d hoped to achieve by her foolish actions. Whatever he’d done was in the past – the fact that it might have been a woman didn’t really change anything – did it?

  ‘Kim?’

  ‘They’re beautiful,’ she managed, taking the flowers from him. ‘Thank
you.’

  Talking to the police might have changed things, though. What had she been thinking? Blurting out a stupid accusation without really knowing anything. She had no evidence, no real understanding, just a reckless desire to tell someone. Even if it was true, if he had done something terrible in the past, there was nothing the police could do about it.

  And they probably hadn’t believed her anyway. The big man, Mendel, certainly didn’t take her seriously – just sat there asking her a lot of questions she couldn’t answer. Harland had seemed different – genuine even – and his voice had been kind when he told her not to worry …

  … but she did worry. She knew her actions could have had serious consequences for Rob – for both of them. Why had she been so stupid?

  As he stepped into the hallway, laying his bag down and softly kissing the top of her head, she suddenly hated herself for trying to betray him. Whatever else he was, he still cared about her.

  It was better this way, she decided. They’d work through it together, and everything would settle down and be just like it was before.

  ‘So, was it lonely without me?’ Rob leaned in close to gaze into her eyes.

  She stared up at him for a second, then put her arms around his neck and buried her head in his shoulder.

  She wouldn’t drive him away. Everything would be all right. Everything would be like it was before.

  ‘I’m glad you’re back,’ she said.

  part 2

  SORROW

  19

  Sunday, 6 July

  It was a clear, bright morning. Rob had already opened the curtains and sunlight streamed into the room, hurting her eyes as she stretched and wriggled up into a sitting position. The clock on his side of the bed said 8.23 – he was up early for a Sunday. She flexed her toes under the duvet and yawned, wondering whether or not to snuggle back down for a while, but she knew that she needed the bathroom. Reluctantly, she moved to the edge of the bed and drew the duvet around her as she stood up and shuffled across the bedroom to get her bathrobe.

  The reassuring smell of toast reached her as she padded out into the hallway, and she found herself smiling as she placed a small hand on the cool gloss of the banister.

  ‘Rob? Are you making breakfast?’ she called down.

  ‘It’s almost ready.’ His voice drifted up to her, indistinct from the kitchen. ‘Down you come, sleepyhead. The weather’s too good to stay in – I want us to go out and make the most of it.’

  They were on the road by ten, heading west out of the village and cruising down quiet roads that swept them along beneath a clear blue sky.

  ‘Do you think it’ll stay like this?’ Kim asked, reaching up to slide back the shade on the sunroof.

  ‘Forecast is good all day,’ Rob told her. He was wearing a pale linen shirt, with a faded pair of shorts that she liked him in. ‘It’s going to be hot this afternoon.’

  Kim closed her eyes and let her head tilt back, welcoming the sun’s touch on her face, the warm glow through her eyelids.

  ‘How far did you want to go?’ she murmured.

  ‘I don’t mind. Maybe that place by the aqueduct; maybe further. See how we feel.’

  ‘You’re the boss,’ she said softly.

  The car park was already filling up when they reached Bradford on Avon. Rob got a ticket from the machine while Kim slipped on her scruffy trainers, then he took her hand as they made their way down the slope towards the long expanse of still, green water. They’d walked the Kennet and Avon Canal quite often – sometimes just a couple of miles along the embankment, sometimes further. Once, they’d wandered all the way up to Bath, though she hoped that Rob wasn’t feeling quite so energetic today.

  A red-faced woman with powerful arms was cheerfully calling instructions down to a barge in the depths between the lock gates, and laughing with a wiry old man on the other side of the water. After a moment, they took their positions at the end of the long wooden balance beams and began slowly to push the gates closed, leaning in hard and bracing their feet against the arcs of white brickwork set into the ground.

  Kim slowed a little so that she could watch as the first spurts of water began to stream in at the other end of the lock, glistening in the sunlight and releasing a rainbow spray that rose up between the wet green walls.

  ‘Fascinating, isn’t it?’ Rob was standing beside her, gazing down at the swirling water that had begun to lift the barge.

  She nodded, her eyes tracing the red and gold paintwork on the barge, noticing the open packet of biscuits sitting on the deck. Such a lovely way to see the countryside.

  ‘I’d like to try it sometime,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You know, just sitting there, relaxing, letting the water take you wherever it wanted to.’

  They stood for a moment longer, watching as the cabin roof rose up into the sunlight.

  ‘There’s a lot of power in that water,’ Rob murmured.

  Kim turned and looked at him, suddenly reminded of another conversation. Was there an ulterior motive to their walk? Had he brought her out to tell her something?

  Please no, not today.

  She watched him gazing at the water as it gushed in below them, but there was no light in his eyes, none of that terrible eagerness she’d seen previously. He seemed calm, and she allowed herself to relax, reproaching herself a little for thinking badly of him. She was lucky to have someone like Rob.

  They crossed the road where it passed over the water, and made their way down to rejoin the canal by a busy local pub, where the rattle of crockery drifted out from the kitchens and families jostled for tables underneath the plastic awnings. Soon, the noise diminished and they began to hear the crunch of their own footsteps as the towpath narrowed and the town slipped away behind them. They overtook one or two slower walkers, and were overtaken themselves by a couple of cyclists, but as they followed the canal out into the open countryside, there were periods when they seemed to have the whole waterway to themselves.

  ‘Glad you came?’ Rob asked her.

  Kim nodded. ‘It’s beautiful.’

  ‘Better than staying at home,’ he said, and smiled.

  They wandered on through stands of trees, keeping the stillness of the water on their left as it meandered along the side of the valley. To the right, the ground fell away into a tangle of bushes and brambles, with the River Avon some way beyond.

  They came across several groups of barges, moored together in twos and threes. Some of them clearly hadn’t moved for a long time – weathered garden chairs, old gas cylinders and children’s toys spread out along the grass beside the path, evidence of their inhabitants gradually putting down roots into the bank.

  Rob paused by one beautifully decorated barge and smiled at a small tabby cat that got up from sunning itself on the deck, stretched and ambled over to them.

  ‘Guarding the boat while the owners are away,’ he said with a grin.

  The cat went to Rob and brushed itself against his ankles.

  ‘Not much of a guard,’ Kim said, smiling.

  Rob dropped to a crouch and stroked the little cat, tickling behind its ears as it rubbed itself against him. He smiled as it raised its head so he could rub under its chin, a quiet delight in his expression.

  Kim watched him thoughtfully, wondering why he didn’t have a cat himself. Perhaps it was too much of a commitment – after all, he wasn’t someone who would let himself be tied down. She turned to gaze out across the fields, pushing her hair back and tightening the elastic that held it away from her face. And yet, he did seem to have committed himself to her.

  Rob stood up with a contented look on his face and they continued along the towpath. The cat followed them for a few yards, then sat down in a spot where the sunlight came through a gap in the trees and watched them go.

  The sun grew warmer as the day drew on, and they saw more people as they walked. The calm water was disturbed by occasional tourists and trippers sailing their rented narrowboats from one pub to the next �
�� overweight men with spotless rugby shirts and determinedly cheery wives in expensive casual clothing, or outdoor enthusiasts with a lot less style but more genuine faces. And yet, they were all of them – the trippers, the cyclists, the walkers – just passing through. This place really belonged to the barge families.

  She’d seen them before – crusty old souls with tanned, leathery faces who sat like organic extensions of their boats, staring down at the water, oblivious to passers-by. Then there were the younger ones – travellers with beautifully grungy clothing, who sat on the grassy bank with their guitars or bent over crafting things from wood and old metal. A little boy with dreadlocks watched her from an open gangway and smiled at her as she caught his eye. There was an elusive sense of contentment about them that awoke a longing in her, but their life was a million miles from hers, even though she passed within a few feet of them.

  ‘Must be strange growing up on a boat,’ Rob murmured as she returned the boy’s smile.

  ‘I suppose,’ she agreed, though the idea of waking up and looking out onto the water seemed very appealing.

  ‘No satellite TV, no Internet,’ he mused. ‘It must be like growing up in the seventies.’

  Kim cast a glance back over her shoulder at the barges moored along the towpath behind them.

  ‘They look happy though.’

  She found herself wondering about her own happiness. It was a beautiful day, and she had everything she could ever want.

  Everything she could ever want, and something she never wanted.

  She wished she didn’t know about it. She wished he had never told her, but it was her own fault for pushing him so hard.

  She glanced up at him as he walked beside her, his eyes turned away to look out across the valley.

  No wonder he hadn’t wanted to tell her – he’d been trying to protect her. Suddenly it was all so obvious. He’d been shielding her, but she’d forced the issue. It must have been so difficult for him, but that just proved how much he cared for her.

  And she’d nearly ruined everything by going to the police.