From Chapter 5:
The iron walkway had been a fire escape once. Not part of the original building, it had been added years later, when building regulations had finally caught up. But years later was still a long time ago, and it was in the same state as the rest of the Market. Actually, worse than most. It was more rust than iron, and in some places not even that – there were holes the size of a fist where it had been eaten away completely.
“It’s not safe,” I repeated. “Look at it. I don’t even know if there’s still a ladder down, that might have gone years ago. Even if there is, you can’t trust it. Just come back in and talk to me, all right? I just want to know about my friend.”
A calm reasonable voice, I kept reminding myself, even though my heart was rattling along, adrenaline fired, and a band seemed to be tightening around my chest. Just a few innocuous questions to get him talking.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” he whispered. “Look, man, I’m sorry about him, OK, but it was nothing to do with me. I’m just doing a job. You understand?”
I nodded, yes of course I understood, and I was going step back from the window, give him room to come in where we’d talk a bit more. But then his phone rang again. He reached for it, and glanced down into the alleyway below, and a look went across his face. Fear, that was the look, and it was all over his face as he looked back at me, and he didn’t look anything at all like Adi then.
“I can’t talk to you! I can’t!”
He pulled out his phone, held it to his ear and took two steps away from me, two steps along the walkway, then the rotten metal disintegrated under his feet and he fell, backwards and sideways and outwards, lurching against the guard rail which snapped like a twig and he fell, screaming, into the air and down and out of my sight.
The iron walkway had been a fire escape once. Not part of the original building, it had been added years later, when building regulations had finally caught up. But years later was still a long time ago, and it was in the same state as the rest of the Market. Actually, worse than most. It was more rust than iron, and in some places not even that – there were holes the size of a fist where it had been eaten away completely.
“It’s not safe,” I repeated. “Look at it. I don’t even know if there’s still a ladder down, that might have gone years ago. Even if there is, you can’t trust it. Just come back in and talk to me, all right? I just want to know about my friend.”
A calm reasonable voice, I kept reminding myself, even though my heart was rattling along, adrenaline fired, and a band seemed to be tightening around my chest. Just a few innocuous questions to get him talking.
“I’m sorry about your friend,” he whispered. “Look, man, I’m sorry about him, OK, but it was nothing to do with me. I’m just doing a job. You understand?”
I nodded, yes of course I understood, and I was going step back from the window, give him room to come in where we’d talk a bit more. But then his phone rang again. He reached for it, and glanced down into the alleyway below, and a look went across his face. Fear, that was the look, and it was all over his face as he looked back at me, and he didn’t look anything at all like Adi then.
“I can’t talk to you! I can’t!”
He pulled out his phone, held it to his ear and took two steps away from me, two steps along the walkway, then the rotten metal disintegrated under his feet and he fell, backwards and sideways and outwards, lurching against the guard rail which snapped like a twig and he fell, screaming, into the air and down and out of my sight.