Knife Edge

1.23 P.M.

'I want to talk to Doyle.'

DS Colin Mason recognised the voice immediately.

He reached for a pen on his desk and scribbled the time on the corner of a pad then, with the end of the Biro, he pressed another digit on the phone.

'Doyle's not here, Neville. Can't you talk to me?' Mason asked.

'I want the mechanic, not the fucking oily rag,' Neville growled.

Mason gripped the receiver more tightly, trying to control his anger.

Fuck you, you psychotic bastard.

'I know you're tracing this call by the way,' Neville continued. 'You're wasting your time. Just like you were at Euston.'

'Round one to you, eh?' Mason said, barely able to contain his fury.

'Not just the round, the whole fucking fight, shit-head. Now let me talk to Doyle.'

'I told you, Doyle's not here.'

'Well, fucking find him.'

'Look, I'm going to patch you through to my superior, he might know where Doyle is.'

Mason hit another couple of buttons.

As he did so the office door opened and a uniformed man stuck his head through.

'Get this fucking call traced. Quick,' the DS snapped.

'I told that other cunt, I want to speak to Doyle,' Neville rasped.

Inside the Mobile Operations Vehicle, Calloway glanced at his watch as he listened to Neville.

'Listen to me, Neville,' the DI implored.

'I don't want to listen to you. Besides, you're not the one to start giving ultimatums, are you?'

'I'm not giving you ultimatums, I'm asking you to listen.'

There was a second's silence at the other end of the phone.

'Neville?'

'Yeah, go on, I'm listening.'

'This can stop now, before anyone else is killed.'

'Fuck you. It stops when I get what I want, and I think the quicker you give me what I want, the better for everyone. The next bomb goes off in less than ten minutes.'

'Why are you killing innocent people? Your own people?'

'They're not my people. They couldn't give a fuck about me now. As far as they're concerned, I did my bit when the fighting in Ireland was going on. They don't want to know me now. My people were in Ulster with me. Other soldiers. Men like Doyle.

'Do you know Doyle?'

'I know what he did.'

'You know he wants to kill you?'

Neville chuckled.

'He'll try. What the fuck do I care? Do you think that frightens me?' Neville snarled. 'Do you think I'm frightened of dying?'

'No, I don't, I just don't understand why so many other people have to die too.'

'Don't try to understand. Besides, if you give me what I want nobody else has to die, do they? The quicker you give me my daughter, the quicker this is all over.'

'Where's the next bomb, Neville? At least give us a chance to find it.'

'Fuck you. Put Doyle on.'

A light flashed on the console in front of Neville and he pressed the button to switch the other phone to speaker.

'We've got the trace,' Mason informed him. 'Leicester Square.'

'I'm waiting for Doyle,' Neville said again.

Calloway gripped the receiver more tightly.

'You've got to give me time to contact him, I-'

Neville cut him short. 'Time's up. I'll speak to you after the next bomb.' He laughed.

'Go to hell!' roared Calloway.

'Already been,' Neville said and hung up.