Knife Edge

5.51 P.M.

I don't fucking need this.

Doyle slowed his pace slightly, glancing round to see that the little girl was having trouble keeping up with him.

Playing Neville's game alone would be bad enough, but I can do without the kid.

'Come on,' he said, trying to sound as cheerful as possible.

That was how you were supposed to sound when you were talking to kids, wasn't it?

Lisa scuttled along beside him, bumping into him when he stopped hurriedly at a corner.

She almost overbalanced but Doyle shot out a hand and pulled her along with him.

'Where are we going?' she asked.

'Didn't your mum tell you? We're going to see your dad.'

The bloke you think is your dad, at any rate.

'Mum said I had to do what you told me.'

'That's right.'

They reached the entrance to St James's tube station.

There were a number of people climbing the steps from below and more than one glanced inquisitively at the man with the long brown hair and the stubble-covered face as he pulled the little girl in the jeans and blue cardigan along with him.

Perhaps a little too roughly sometimes.

Doyle hurried down the steps, Lisa struggling along behind.

Come on, come on.

He helped her down the last two stairs, eyes scanning the concourse for the phones.

To his left.

He strode towards them, Lisa in tow.

Two phones. One was out of order.

Doyle leaned against the working one and pulled cigarettes from his jacket, jamming one between his lips but not lighting it.

'You'll get a cough,' said Lisa, looking up at him.

Doyle looked puzzled.

'If you smoke, you get a cough,' she continued. 'They told us that at school. I told Mum she should give up.'

'Did your teacher tell you that smoking was bad for you?'

Lisa nodded.

'Well, you tell your teacher from me that non-smokers die every day.' He smiled crookedly.

The phone rang.

Doyle snatched it up and pressed the receiver to his ear.

'Yeah,' he said.

'Doyle?'

'You know bloody well it is.'

'Is Lisa with you?' Neville demanded.

'Yes.'

'Let me speak to her.'

'This wasn't part of the plan.'

'Who's making the fucking rules, Doyle? Let me speak to her,' Neville barked.

Doyle pushed the phone towards the child, who had trouble reaching it because the cord was so short.

Doyle lifted her up.

'Is that my princess?' Neville said.

'Dad. Where are you?' Lisa said excitedly.

'I'm waiting for you,' he told her. 'Let me speak to the man who's with you and we'll talk later.'

She handed the phone to Doyle, who put her down once more.

'Satisfied?' Doyle snapped into the phone.

'Listen to me. The next stop is Oxford Circus, there's a phone box outside Top Shop. It should take twenty minutes by tube. It means your friends won't be able to hear you while you're in the tunnels though.'

'What the fuck are you talking about?' Doyle hissed.

'Watch your language in front of my daughter, Doyle,' Neville said reproachfully. 'I know you're in contact with the police, I wouldn't have expected anything else. I thought you might wear a wire but that's a bit primitive, isn't it? What have you got? A mobile?'

Doyle exhaled deeply. 'Yeah, full marks, Sherlock.'

'Well, just make sure they don't get over-eager. Like I said, if I see a copper, Bang! Now move it, you've got twenty minutes to get to the next phone box.'