Nightshade

20

Nightingale placed his overnight bag on the conveyor belt and undid his belt. He dropped the belt, his phone, watch, wallet and keys on top of his raincoat and walked through the metal detector arch. It remained silent and he smiled at the two shirt-sleeved security personnel, but they stared back stonily.

His coat and belongings came through first, and he put on his belt and coat. A bored woman chewing gum slouched in her chair as she stared at the screen in front of her. She waved her hand in the air and said something, and she was joined by an Asian man in a grey suit. He bent down to get a better look at the screen and nodded. As he straightened up, Nightingale had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach as he realised that he’d forgotten about the knife.

The bag appeared from the scanner and the man in the suit picked it up and looked at Nightingale. Nightingale smiled apologetically. ‘I know, I know, I forgot all about it.’

The woman picked up a phone and began talking into it.

‘Is this your bag, sir?’ asked the man.

‘Of course it is. That’s why I’m standing here.’ Nightingale could see from the look on the man’s face that he’d chosen completely the wrong time to be sarcastic. ‘Yes,’ he said.

‘Do you mind if I open it?’

Nightingale bit back a second sarcastic comment. ‘Sure. It’s a ceremonial knife. I forgot it was there.’

The man ignored his comment, moved the bag to a side table and unzipped it. He took out Nightingale’s washbag, his laundry and travel alarm clock, then pulled out the evidence bag containing the crucible and frowned at it before putting it down next to the washbag. Then he pulled out the bag containing the knife. He held it up and looked at Nightingale, one eyebrow raised.

Nightingale shrugged. ‘I know, I know.’

‘Why were you trying to take this onto the plane?’

‘I forgot it was there. I’m sorry.’

‘You forgot you were carrying a foot-long knife?’

‘It’s not really a foot long, is it? Nine inches, maybe.’ He smiled. ‘Not that size is everything, right?’

The man stared at him with cold eyes, still holding up the evidence bag. ‘You think this is funny?’

‘We have a comedian, do we?’ said a gruff voice behind him. Nightingale turned to see two uniformed officers standing either side of him. One was carrying a carbine in the ready position, the other had a Glock in a holster on his hip and his arms folded.

‘It was an honest mistake,’ said Nightingale.

The uniformed cop with the folded arms shook his head. ‘No, sir. Forgetting to zip up your fly is an honest mistake, trying to take a knife onto a plane is a criminal offence.’