Knife Edge (32 page)

‘Wednesday the twenty-fifth of July. Last year.’

Naysmith turned back to the laptop and paged forward to July, his mind recalling that terrible stormy night, the university lecturer, the sickening sound as metal had shattered bone and another game had ended.

He showed them the screen.

‘There you are. Networking drinks evening in London,’ he explained. ‘I usually have one of those every month or so.’

Cadnam stared at the screen for a moment, his eyes taking in all the other entries on the page.

‘Would you like a printout of my calendar for last year?’ Naysmith asked him. A calendar that he’d carefully maintained, covering his tracks, against just such a situation as this.

Cadnam shook his head. Barden sat quietly, watchful and slightly unnerving.

‘In that case …’ Naysmith leaned forward ‘… I’d appreciate it if you’d tell me what this is about.’

Cadnam relaxed back into his seat and looked at him for a moment, considering his next move.

‘Tell me, have you ever been to Severn Beach?’ he asked.

It was poorly played – a clumsy attempt that gave away too much.

Naysmith made a point of frowning, then rubbed his eyes wearily as he slumped back into the armchair.

‘Yes,’ he nodded. ‘Once.’

He sighed, as though disappointed by something.

‘Well?’ Cadnam leaned forward.

Naysmith looked at him, his face expressing the regret of a person wronged.

‘I went there once, with Kim.’ He glanced at Barden, then back to Cadnam. ‘That’s what this is all about, isn’t it?’

The detective looked at him thoughtfully, pen hovering over his notebook.

‘Go on,’ he said, carefully noncommittal.

‘Kim, my ex—’ He broke off, as though understanding something for the first time. ‘I took her out to Severn Beach after we’d been in Bristol one weekend. It must have spooked her more than I thought.’

‘Spooked her?’

‘We talked about that woman,’ Naysmith explained. ‘The one who got washed up on the beach.’

She hadn’t been washed up – he hoped the detective noticed his mistake.

Cadnam frowned.

‘Can I ask how you knew about the woman?’

‘There was a reconstruction on TV. And it was in the papers for a while.’ Naysmith shrugged. ‘That’s what gave me the idea.’

Cadnam shot him a wary look.

‘Strange thing to do, take your girlfriend to visit the scene of a murder …?’

Naysmith looked down, awkward now, as though some embarrassing prejudice or grubby sexual secret had been found out.

‘I know, it’s a bit weird, but if you knew Kim …’ He paused as though torn, as though reluctant to speak ill of her. ‘She responded to some unusual things.’

Cadnam narrowed his eyes.

‘I’m not sure I follow you,’ he said.

Naysmith hesitated.

‘Danger turned her on. I just played on that a little, you know? A bit of theatre – get her thinking about what happened there, get her excited …’ He looked at each of them in turn, then stared down at the carpet again. ‘It’s not something I’m particularly proud of, but the whole relationship was pretty screwed-up.’

He waited, feeling their eyes boring into the top of his head, waiting for one of them to speak. After a moment, Cadnam broke the silence.

‘You said you knew what this was all about?’

A change of tack – good. But not good enough.

Naysmith raised his head slowly.

‘Kim and I didn’t part on the best of terms,’ he admitted. ‘I assume she’s said something, and that’s where you got my name from.’

He looked at them questioningly, but Cadnam turned it back on him.

‘Can you elaborate?’

‘OK,’ Naysmith sighed. ‘She was always fairly … suspicious. Always accusing me of seeing other women, even when I wasn’t.’

He dropped that in
–
another deliberate piece of carelessness for them, reassurance that they really were so much smarter than him.

Cadnam took the bait.

‘And when you
were
seeing other women?’

Naysmith looked at him for a moment, as though considering whether or not to deny it, then let his shoulders drop.

They had ‘outsmarted’ him.

‘She got very angry. I mean,
really
angry.’ He allowed his voice a wistful edge, choosing his words carefully so that the decisive blow would sound casual. ‘And she was really clever about it too. In the end, she waited until I was out of the country on business, then cleaned out one of my bank accounts and disappeared.’

‘Really?’ Cadnam glanced at Barden and scribbled something in his notebook.

Naysmith nodded ruefully.

‘I can show you the statement if you don’t believe me,’ he sighed.

‘How much did she take?’

‘A little over six grand.’

The detective tapped the end of his pen against the notepad for a moment.

‘Did you report this?’ he asked.

Naysmith shook his head.

‘There didn’t seem much point. The account was in both our names, and I actually thought I’d got off lightly. She could have trashed the house or taken a pair of scissors to my suits …’ He smiled at them sadly, then looked down again. ‘And I suppose I did sort of deserve it. I know I didn’t treat her too well.’

He could feel Cadnam staring at him. Good. Let that idea do its work for a moment, establish itself in their thoughts, erode Kim’s credibility.

He lifted his head sharply.

‘But I never thought she’d do anything like this! I know she’s always been a little unstable, but if she’s trying to set me up with the police …’

He let it hang there, filling the room with doubt.

Barden shifted slightly in his seat.

‘I’m right, aren’t I?’ Naysmith pressed. ‘This is all because she figured out I was cheating on her?’

Cadnam exchanged a brief glance with Barden, then softly closed his notebook.

‘I appreciate your time,’ he said, getting to his feet. ‘If there’s anything further, we’ll be in touch.’

It only sank in as they left. Naysmith’s heart was racing when he closed the front door and bowed his head against it. Standing there in the silence of the hallway, he took a deep breath and shuddered.

She’d done her best – credit to her for having the courage to try – but it hadn’t worked. And now he was even more eager to find her again. It would be a uniquely personal challenge.

Kim pushed through the glass door and stepped out onto the broad swathe of paving stones that fronted the office. She halted for a moment, smoothing down her skirt, which was riding up a little, and doing up the top button of her blouse. Maybe she should have worn her light grey suit with these shoes, but that was in the case she’d left at Sarah’s.

It didn’t matter – she was just glad that another job interview was over. She always found them a little unsettling, but as she walked away from the building she still couldn’t decide if the office manager was dreary or creepy.

Or which was worse.

She made her way between the lines of cars to where she’d parked. Slipping off her jacket, she folded it carefully and put it on the passenger seat with her handbag.

Working in Exeter would be a long commute unless she moved, but the money was good.

She started the car and found her way out of the car park, trusting the satnav on her phone to guide her through the town and onto the motorway. It would be good to get clear of Exeter before the rush hour – assuming they had a rush hour down here.

Being in the wrong lane meant she had to go round the roundabout twice, but eventually she spotted the right exit and drove up the ramp to join the M5 for the journey back to Taunton. Merging with the rest of the traffic, she wondered if the long commute might make it impractical to stay there.

Oh well, every cloud had a silver lining.

She smiled at that, then her face grew serious again.

Until the police dealt with Rob, it really didn’t matter where she was. Just as long as she was far away from him.

There had been an accident earlier in the afternoon and the queue of slow-moving traffic meant it took her well over an hour to get back. Leaving the motorway, she considered going back to the B & B to change clothes, but the thought of that cramped little room was just too depressing. She’d promised to drop in on Sarah this evening anyway, so she pulled over at the side of the road, rummaged through her handbag and drew out her phone.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s me. Just wanted to check you were home before I popped round?’

‘I’ve been back for a while. See you when you get here.’

‘Give me fifteen minutes.’

Kim put the phone back in her bag and waited for a gap in the traffic.

After stopping at the off-licence on East Reach, she threaded her way down the narrow streets and turned onto Gordon Road. There was a space on the opposite side to the house, a few doors down. Getting out, she pulled on her jacket, then grabbed the bottle and her handbag from the passenger seat.

She wouldn’t stay late.

Sarah opened the door with a grin, turning away and hurrying back down the hallway. Kim followed her, and the aroma of cooking hit her as soon as she stepped inside.

‘Something smells good,’ she smiled, walking into the kitchen.

‘I’m glad you think so.’ Sarah looked over her shoulder. ‘I’m making it for you.’

‘Oh, you didn’t have to.’

‘It’s no bother.’ Sarah peered into a large saucepan. ‘So how did the interview go?’ She looked at the bottle in Kim’s hand. ‘Are we celebrating or commiserating?’

Kim sank down into a chair.

‘I’m not sure,’ she laughed. ‘Both, I think.’

‘Both?’

‘I think there’s a good chance they’ll offer me the job,’ she explained. ‘And the money’s good …’

She tailed off.

‘So?’ Sarah turned to look at her. ‘What’s the problem?’

‘The guy who interviewed me …’ Kim placed the bottle on the table and frowned. ‘He was really creepy.’

‘So?’

‘He was sort of quiet, wouldn’t make eye contact. Oh, and …’ she spoke in an adenoidal monotone ‘… he had a really interesting voice.’

Sarah sniggered.

‘He’s probably just a harmless little nerd who collects comics or builds model aeroplanes. You know the sort – talking to women always makes them nervous. I think they can be kind of sweet.’ She flashed an evil smile. ‘And you can have
so
much fun with them.’

Kim looked at her doubtfully.

‘Anyway,’ Sarah continued, ‘so long as he’s not a sex pest or a mass murderer, what does it matter?’

Murderer.

Kim swallowed. How messed up was her sense of perspective? How could she be bothered by this guy after Rob?

‘Sis?’ Sarah was staring at her, concern on her face. ‘Do you want a glass of water? You look really pale.’

The risotto was delicious, especially after several days of sandwiches and takeaways. As they cleared the plates from the table, Sarah frowned and turned to the freezer. She took out a packet of melting-middle chocolate puddings and read the instructions on the side of the box.

‘Bollocks,’ she muttered. ‘I forgot these need to defrost for an hour.’

‘It’s OK.’ Kim put a hand on her stomach. ‘I’m stuffed.’

‘Trust me,’ Sarah tapped the box. ‘These are just
gorgeous
. Honestly, they’re better than sex.’

‘Don’t let Simon hear you say that!’

‘A little bit of criticism does him good. Don’t want him getting too sure of himself.’ She gave a dirty laugh.

‘Where is he tonight?’ Kim asked. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen him since New Year.’

‘He’s working in Cambridge today,’ Sarah replied. ‘But he said he’d be home by nine.’

She opened the box and put the desserts on the counter.

‘There. We’ll stick a DVD on while these thaw, and you can see Simon before you go.’

Kim’s eyes flickered to her watch, and Sarah sighed.

‘Come on, sis. What have you got to rush back for?’

It was a fair point. What
did
she have? Another miserable evening trapped in her little attic room at the B & B, staring at the walls?

‘All right,’ she nodded. ‘Anything you like, just so long as it’s not got Leonardo DiCaprio in it.’

The film was almost over when they heard Simon’s key in the lock.

‘We’re in here,’ Sarah called from the sofa.

‘Who’s “we”?’ Simon replied, coming into the front room and breaking into a broad smile when he saw Kim. ‘All right, stranger, how are you?’

He was broad but tall, with a round, cheerful face. He wore a nondescript suit, a dark blue shirt with the top button undone, and his brown hair was gelled into its usual messy style. Kim stood up and he gave her a suffocating hug before stepping back and gazing at her.

‘Looking very smart,’ he noted approvingly.

‘Thank you.’

‘You didn’t have to dress up on my account, though,’ he added with a wink, before turning to Sarah. ‘Any food left? I’m starving, me …’

‘Yeah babe,’ Sarah replied, still half watching the TV, then jumped up and chased into the kitchen after him. ‘But leave those chocolate puddings alone! They’re not for you …’

It was getting late when Kim left. She waved goodbye to Sarah, who was standing on the doorstep, then walked across the road to her car. There was a chill in the air and the seats were cold against her legs – sometimes she really hated wearing a skirt. Starting the engine, she turned the heater on full, praying it would warm up quickly, then eased out of the narrow space and along to the end of the cul-de-sac.

It had been a lovely evening – exactly what she needed.

With familiar ease, she turned the car in the cramped dead end, but Sarah had already gone inside and closed the door when she passed the house again.

Oh well.

At the end of Gordon Road, she turned left, passing a line of parked cars on Queen Street before turning right again. Holding a hand in front of the air vents, she felt only cool air and started to shiver as she drove slowly through the town centre and down towards the illuminated white ironwork of the bridge, the lights glittering on the water below …