'Cut the bullshit, Doyle. You're no good at it. Why am I here?'

'OK. No bullshit. I need your kid.'

'We've had this conversation before. No way. You're not giving her to Bob and that's the end of it. I don't care how many bombs he lets off.'

'You don't care how many people die because of him?'

'The only person I care about is Lisa and I'm not letting you use her like some kind of bloody prize for Bob. Now, if I'm not under arrest I'd like to go.' She got to her feet.

'I think the police call it protective custody,' Doyle told her. 'Like that house in Lambeth you ran away from. They're trying to look after you and your daughter, not hurt you.'

'And you, what are you trying to do?'

'My job,' he said simply.

They locked stares for a moment then Julie sat down again.

'We've had new instructions from your husband,' Doyle updated her. 'He wants me to deliver your daughter to him. If I don't, he'll set off the rest of the bombs. I need your help, Julie. I'll give it to you straight. If I agree to do what your husband wants, take your daughter to him, then that'll be the end of it.'

'How do you know?'

'Because when I get close enough I'll kill him.'

'He might kill you.'

'He'll try.'

'And if he does? What happens to Lisa then? I daren't take that chance, Doyle.'

'If he doesn't get what he wants and he detonates all the bombs, he might just come looking for her himself when he's got nothing left to lose. Do you trust the police to stop him? You know him better than I do. You know he won't stop until either he's got his daughter or she's dead, because you can bet your arse if he can't have her he'll make fucking sure you can't. Now that's your choice. Trust me or the police.'

'I don't trust anyone.'

'What about Kenneth Baxter?'

Julie held his gaze.

'Where does he fit into all this, Julie? Why did you go to him?'

Still she didn't answer.

'You could have got out of London,' Doyle continued. 'Jumped on a train anywhere and just stayed on it until you'd put enough distance between you and your husband, the police and me. But you didn't. You went to Baxter. Why?'

'I couldn't think of anyone else,' she said, tracing a slender finger around the rim of the mug.

'No family? No friends?' Doyle challenged.

'He is a friend.'

'How long have you known him?'

'Nine or ten years. Almost as long as I've known Bob. Bob brought him home one time when he was on leave. All three of us were friends. He was about the only person Bob ever trusted.'

'Apart from you?' Doyle said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

She either failed to notice the tone or chose to ignore it, and simply nodded slowly.

'Where is he now?' she asked.

'Baxter? He's in the next room, as far as I know.'

She sighed.

'Then perhaps you owe it to him to tell him what you just told me,' Julie said wearily. 'About taking Lisa to Bob.'

'Why?'

'He has a right to know.'

'It's got fuck all to do with Baxter.'

'It's got everything to do with him. Lisa's his daughter.'

5.25 P.M.

Doyle shook his head and smiled mirthlessly.

'Neville obviously doesn't know that Lisa isn't his.' It came out more like a statement than a question.

Julie shook her head. 'If he did he'd have killed me and Ken by now. I'm the only one who knows, and now you. Lisa thinks Bob is her father. I want it to stay that way, Doyle.'

'How long has this been going on?'

'Almost nine years. On and off.'

'And Neville never suspected?'

Julie shook her head.

'No, I suppose he wouldn't, would he?' Doyle chided. 'His best friend and his wife.' He grunted. 'Fucking hell, and you worry about not trusting him.'

'I don't need a lecture on morality, Doyle.'

'I'm not giving one. I don't care if you were getting fucked by Baxter or the entire band of the Coldstream Guards. The only thing that bothers me is getting Neville and to do that I need your help. Or, more to the point, your daughter's help.'

'Are you asking for my permission?'

'You could say that.'

'Promise me no harm will come to her.'

'I'll look after her. I don't make promises.'

'You have to kill him?'

'That was what I was planning to do from the beginning. I'd have thought you'd be glad to see the back of him too. It'll protect your little secret, won't it?'

'Fuck you, Doyle.'

'If that's what you want. Shall I get in the queue behind Baxter?'

'You bastard.' She lunged forward, slapping at Doyle's face.

He caught her wrist in one powerful hand and pushed her back on to her seat, finally releasing her, stepping back a pace.

'Did you love him?' he asked, his voice low.

'Who?'

'Baxter.'

'I don't think so. It wasn't like that. It wasn't some big love affair. We just-'

'Fucked,' Doyle interjected. 'Are you sure Lisa's Baxter's?'

'Yes. I hadn't known Ken very long. Bob was on duty when it happened.'

'That was convenient. And he never suspected?'

'Why should he? Besides, I can be discreet when I have to be.'

'I bet you can.'

'I didn't want it to happen that way, Doyle. If it hadn't been Ken, it would have been someone else. I just didn't want Lisa hurt.'

'Why didn't you just leave Neville?'

'I don't know. I loved him at the beginning.'

'Is that why you were fucking his best mate?'

'I wouldn't expect you to understand, Doyle. What do you know about love or emotion?'

'Nothing any more,' he said quietly, averting his eyes.

A vision flashed into his mind.

Georgie. Laughing.

Dying.

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