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Don leant one arm on the table and spoke in a low voice.
“Well, I have to admit, this Baddeley chap is being a bit of a nuisance, and it is going to be quite difficult to continue to use you in the UK for the foreseeable future, especially now they’ve circulated you. It could be done, but...” He caught Nick’s gaze and smiled. “Why don’t you take a break, make it a long one, and we’ll wait for it all to blow over.”
“It’s not going to ‘blow over’, Don,” Nicks replied with a hint of exasperation, sliding the ‘job’s mobile’ across the table to him. “This isn’t the sort of guy to let it happen.”
Don smiled condescendingly. “There are ways we can alleviate the problem. Things are always going missing and people are always getting posted to all sorts of other departments, don’t you know? It’s just a matter of time.”
“You can’t do that with this fella.” Nicks shook his head. “No, if you make what he’s got disappear or fuck him about, it’ll just make him more determined. I know his sort.” He let a little laugh escape. “It’s what I would do. It’ll become a crusade for him. I’m sorry, not only is it no longer tenable but, as I said before, I just don’t want to do this anymore. I’ve had a glimpse of my own mortality. I think I’ve done enough.”
Don reclined in his seat agitatedly.
“For goodness sake, Nicks! It was a mere scratch.”
Nicks smiled at him.
“It was more than a mere scratch. And anyway, I only said I had a glimpse. Nevertheless, it was enough.” He held his hands palm up in an open gesture. “Why the hell am I doing this shit at my time of life?”
Don leant forward, jabbing his finger towards him.
“Because someone has to, Nicks! And, besides, you’re good at it.”
“Yeah? Well, I think I’m losing my touch. I should have taken a bit more time to find that damned knife. He’ll have my DNA profile from it by now. Once he’s matched it to DNA off my Mum’s toothbrush, the one I know he’s nicked, I won’t just be an interest to him. I’ll become an obsession.” He sipped his coffee thoughtfully.
“Look,” Don said soothingly, “you know as well as I do he can’t use that in a court of law. At the moment he’s got DNA for someone who was in or near the alleyway around the relevant time. We’ve discussed this before, Nicks. It’s nothing a damn good lawyer can’t adequately explain away to a jury.” He delicately sipped his coffee, replaced the cup on the saucer and said quietly: “Of course, we wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t stuck your nose into something that was none of your business.”
Nicks looked at him hard. “I couldn’t just ignore it.”
“No, no, of course.” A hint of sarcasm then more deliberately, “But it seems you couldn’t just phone the Police either.”
“By the time they’d have arrived it could have been too late,” Nicks countered, defensively.
Don glanced up as two young men walked past, hand in hand. He watched them as they climbed the stairs to the exit. “That may well be,” he murmured. Looking back at Nicks, he picked up his drink. “And besides, you just couldn’t resist it, could you!”
Once again, Nicks felt like an errant schoolboy experiencing the crushing disappointment of his Form Master.
“Nicks, listen to me!” Don was insistent. “We can sort this out. As I’ve told you. Things go missing. Departmental personnel change all the time. It’ll take a while, but it can be done.” He pushed the ‘job’s’ phone across the table with his forefinger. Nicks slid it straight back.
Don looked down at it. “It’s not just about this Baddeley chap, is it?”
Nicks looked him square in the eyes.
“I’m done,” he said.
Leaning back in his chair, Don sighed, then pocketed the phone and said quietly:
“I’ve always liked you, Nicks, so I won’t try to talk you out of it.” He smiled and Nicks thought it was the only genuine smile he’d seen Don produce.
“I respect your decision. Everything has a shelf life, as they say.” He paused. “I do have to remind you, though I know I needn’t, none of this can ever be spoken about or conveyed in any manner whatsoever.” He smiled his usual smile before adding: “The consequences would be quite dire.” He wasn’t smiling anymore.
Nicks toyed with his coffee and replied quietly:
“I can imagine.”
“No. I don’t think you could.”
Don lifted his cup, draining the remnants. He placed it back down, stood up, picked a minute piece of fluff from his jacket and deposited it carefully into the cup.
Extending his hand, he smiled again; two genuine smiles in five years and both on the same day. Nicks began to feel flattered. They shook hands firmly then Don was gone. Nicks leant back in his chair with a sigh of relief then toyed aimlessly with a napkin. Slowly, he drank the remnants of his caramel Latte.
Suddenly, Don was back.
“I forgot to mention,” he said pleasantly. “She’s done a wonderful job with the flowers.”
Nicks looked back at him vacantly.
“Who? What flowers?”
“Why, Anca of course. The window boxes? They look delightful. Geraniums have always been my favourite.” He placed the phone back on the table. “On second thoughts, you will need this. It’s not over yet, Christopher. Take care.”
Nicks watched him walk away. “How long have you known?” he called.
Don swung around to face him. For a while, he just stood there. Then he returned and said, quietly:
“Your cosy arrangement? Having your little German friend mind your phone then forward our messages on to you? I’ve known all along.” He paused. “I know you want your own little bit of paradise on earth, Christopher, but the road to Eden’s not easy.” A wistful look. “It’s... somewhat overgrown.”
He climbed the steps to the exit, glanced back, a last smile; the door slowly, silently, closing behind him as he faded away into the crowds bustling along the Kurfürstendamm.