Bottleneck (15 page)

"Rowan," she said, her voice almost a whisper.

"That's right," said McCrea. "We managed to find you based on a name and an area." He kneeled down in front of her. "You're known to the authorities, Rowan. Luckily for you, you're just a peripheral figure in a cavernous drugs organisation." He grinned. "Now, if I was to go back to my pals who provided me with your name and address, I suspect we could add a few more sections to your file. Seems like prostitution would be the start of it."

"I'm not a whore," said Rowan.

"Really?"

"I'm
not
."

McCrea nodded. "I'm willing to believe you." He turned away from her and winked at Cullen. "Do you believe her, Sergeant?"

Cullen folded his arms - he didn't know whether to play good cop or bad. "I'm not sure I do, Sergeant."

McCrea glared at him. He turned back to Rowan, a smile returned to his face. "See, my colleague is from Edinburgh. He doesn't know how we operate through here. He'd be perfectly happy to drop you with the boys in SOCA. It's a national squad, you know? They'll listen to an eastie beastie as much as they will me. I can protect you."

Rowan mouthed something Cullen couldn't pick up.

"What was that?" said McCrea.

"Shug McArthur," said Rowan.

McCrea beamed. "Big Shug?"

"That's who he told me he got his gear off," said Rowan.

McCrea patted her on the arm. "Do yourself a favour and get off the drugs, okay?"

"Right."

McCrea nodded at Cullen. "Come on, Sergeant. I think we're done here."

He led Cullen back to the car with renewed vigour, striding across the grass and getting in his Escort.

"Eastie beastie?" said Cullen, once inside.

McCrea shrugged. "I had to improvise. You weren't supposed to go all bad cop on me."

"You need a signal," said Cullen, thinking back to the elaborate system of tie pulls and adjustments they'd developed back in Edinburgh. "What do you reckon?"

McCrea sat in silence for a few seconds, fingers drumming the steering wheel. "I'm pretty sure this is drug related. Silly bastard probably took on a debt too many, used it to get his end away with her upstairs, but forgot to pay for the gear."

"It would need to be a fairly big debt," said Cullen.

"Or he really pissed off someone big."

Cullen looked back at the block of flats. "I could buy that. What about the lack of forensics on the knife or the crime scene?"

"I told you," said McCrea. "It's a pro job. Wipe everything clean, leave no loose ends."

"Wouldn't a pro make it look like suicide or someone else?" said Cullen. "Maybe make it point to Rowan?"

"Or just leave it closed," said McCrea. "No leads, no investigation. They know how we work."

Cullen could see the logic. "Off to see this Shug, then?"

McCrea laughed. "Aye, very funny. You don't do intelligence through east, do you?"

Cullen reddened. "Okay, so what are you suggesting we do?"

"Shug is the big player through here," said McCrea. "We can't just pitch up and speak to him about some dead junkie."

"Right, so it's over to Bain's legendary decision making, then?" said Cullen.

"I'm growing to quite like you," said McCrea, as he gunned the engine.

Cullen left Glasgow at four, as Bain and McCrea went into a meeting with their superior officer, making it back to Edinburgh in reasonable time.

He sat with Methven and Chantal in their Incident Room, updating them on the latest thinking from the other end of the M8.

"So, in summary," said Cullen, "Strathclyde are suggesting the deaths of Strang and Hughes
are
just coincidence. They're going with Alex Hughes being killed over drug money."

"How much evidence do they have?" said Methven.

Cullen shrugged. "Nothing concrete as yet. They do know he was a heroin user."

"Define 'user'," said Methven.

"Mainly smoking, but also injecting. He sourced his drugs from Hugh McArthur, or Big Shug as he's known through there. According to DS McCrea, he's one of the biggest players just now."

A frown briefly flickered onto Methven's forehead. "Do you agree?"

Cullen weighed it up for a moment or two. He was stuck halfway between raising serious concerns with the theory and not wanting to return to Glasgow. Keeping his mouth shut would ensure the latter, but it wasn't his style. "I remain to be convinced."

Methven nodded. "You've done your best, I suppose."

"You suppose?" said Cullen.

"As well as can be done with that maniac in charge through there," said Methven.

"Don't I know it," said Cullen. "I don't know if I believe it or not. I've seen Bain go for an easy collar a few times, as you well know. He'll have the whole squad trying to connect Hughes and this Big Shug character."

"Leave it with me," said Methven.

"Leave what?" said Cullen, unsure whether there was anything to be left.

"What to do next."

Cullen opened his notebook. "What's been going on here?"

"I spoke to David Johnson and Beth Williamson again about the record deal," said Chantal. "They said Strang was losing it towards the end."

"What was the reason?" said Cullen.

Chantal dismissed it with a flick of her wrist. "The record deal stuff. They said he was into some band called the Stooges. Never heard of them myself, but they said he started copying what the singer did."

"Iggy Pop was the lead vocalist," said Methven.

"Isn't he the guy off that insurance advert?" said Chantal.

Methven grinned. "The man is a rock 'n' roll legend. Used to smash glasses and cut himself on stage."

Chantal scowled. "And that's what it takes to be a legend, is it?"

Cullen knew Strang was doing that on stage, but wondered if he'd been self-harming. "Was he cutting himself?"

"As far as they knew it was just at their gigs," said Chantal. "He used to take his top off on stage, but he started cutting his chest open at the last few gigs. Even smashed his guitar a couple of times."

"Shame there's no forensics to back it up," said Cullen. "What else?"

"Strang was seeing a psychoanalyst," said Chantal. "I've got an appointment with him tomorrow. Don't fancy our chances of getting anything, mind."

Methven got to his feet and clapped his hands together. "Thanks for your efforts, everyone. I appreciate you've all been putting the hours in, so go home, spend some time with your loved ones and get some shut-eye. Big day tomorrow."

Chantal left, but Cullen wanted to file his paperwork.

Methven got his feet and started jangling the change in his pocket. "I don't like coincidences, Cullen. These two deaths are so intricately linked. I just can't let it go."

"I don't like them either, but I've been through the reports." Çullen held up one of his wads of paper. "I've got a copy of the files as of eleven this morning and I don't see any other possibilities. Do you really want Bain taking over a joint murder inquiry?"

"Don't remind me," said Methven. "I've had enough of that man's poison to last a lifetime, I can tell you."

"Be thankful you've managed to keep yourself away from him," said Cullen.

"I'm
not
avoiding DI Bain," said Methven, eyes closed in the usual way. "I've got four DSs to supervise, Cullen, not just you."

"Really," said Cullen, his tone level enough to be ambiguous. He checked his watch. "Do you mind if I go home now?"

"Fine," said Methven. "Big day tomorrow."

"Don't keep reminding me," said Cullen. "I wouldn't mind some sleep."

"Are you confident?"

Cullen looked up at the ceiling. "No."

Methven smiled. "Good, it looks like you've learnt something then."

"What am I supposed to have learnt?" said Cullen.

Methven closed his eyes again. "Not to take things for granted. It's an important lesson."

"Doesn't feel like it," said Cullen.

"Maybe one day you'll appreciate all of this."

Cullen hurried home, desperate to wrench something from his lost weekend and spend some time with Sharon. At the door, he received the customary greeting from Fluffy. He picked him up and carried him through to the living room. Sharon sat at the breakfast bar in her dressing gown, eating ice cream straight from the tub.

Cullen put the cat on the counter. "That better not be the Phish Food."

"Relax," said Sharon, "it's Caramel Choc Chew."

"That's a relief." Cullen leaned forward to kiss her, only getting her cheek.

"Sorry I didn't kiss you. I just feel bleurgh."

She gave him a mouthful of ice cream as compensation.

"Don't worry, I'll have caught the germs from the spoon," said Cullen.

Sharon laughed. "How are you?"

"Bit of a nightmare today," said Cullen. "Back through in Glasgow doing Methven's dirty washing."

"Bain?"

"Bain," said Cullen. "Tried to avoid him and largely succeeded. Got stuck with his new gorilla, though. Didn't end up that much further forward. They reckon it's drug related."

"Dope?"

"Heroin," said Cullen. "Their guy smoked it and might have injected, too." He scowled. "There was no forensic evidence at the crime scene at all."

"I know that look," said Sharon. "Suspicious?"

"Could be," said Cullen. "Or the killer was just lucky. Makes us think it was a professional drug hit."

"Us?"

Cullen scowled.

Sharon tapped the spoon in Cullen's general direction. "You're not sure."

"I've worked for Bain too long to just settle on something. There's got to be some evidence pointing one way or another. If it's drugs then fine, let's get hunting down who killed him."

Sharon arched an eyebrow. "Otherwise?"

"Otherwise, our cases might be related and we've got a bloody turf war on with Bain and his cronies."

"What are you going to do, then?" said Sharon.

"I'm going to assume it is drug related," said Cullen. "Ours clearly isn't, which helps us. Until Bain or his boys dig something up, I'm keeping well away from him and that bloody city."

Fluffy started bleating at Cullen again.

"He's been doing this a lot. Is he annoyed with me, or something?"

Sharon shrugged. "It's just his way of showing affection."

Fluffy reared up to be stroked.

"That looks much more like affection to me" Cullen sat next to her. "Eating ice cream in your dressing gown isn't a good sign."

"It isn't. I've still got that cold. I've needed today to get over it." She chucked the spoon in the sink. "It's the big day tomorrow."

"Only if you're feeling better."

Sharon saluted. "Yes, nurse."

Cullen laughed. "What have you been up to today?"

"Do you want a cup of tea?" she said.

"That would be good."

She got up and filled the kettle.

"You can't have just cuddled the cat all day."

"He would let me." Sharon reached down to stroke Fluffy. "Chantal came round for a bit at lunchtime. While you've been annoying Bain in Glasgow, she's been at the mercy of Methven."

"I see," said Cullen, feeling some sympathy for her.

"I think she's missed me at work."

"Okay, so I've worked out an hour of what you were doing. What else?"

Sharon put the ice cream in the freezer. "Chantal's talking of joining a dating website."

"Her?"

Sharon looked down her nose at Cullen. "What do you mean 'her'? Do you think she's pretty?"

"Not my type, but I'm surprised she's still single. Didn't she get off with Budgie at that night out?"

"One night thing," said Sharon.

"Other than idle gossip, what have you been doing?" said Cullen, irritated by her evasion.

The kettle reached boiling point and Sharon poured water into the teapot. She sat down on the stool, letting the tea brew.

"Scott, I think I'm pregnant."

"You can't be pregnant," said Cullen.

"Well, I can and I am."

Cullen's brain broke down. He couldn't process it.

How could she be pregnant?

There was no way on earth he was going to become a dad. It just wasn't possible. He swallowed hard, hoping he was asleep and it was just a nightmare.

"Scott, we need to discuss this."

"How?"

"You talk to me and I listen," said Sharon. "I talk to you and you listen. That sort of thing."

"No, how can you be pregnant?" said Cullen. "We're normally so careful."

"It must have been that night," said Sharon. "Budgie's birthday."

"But we-"

"Did we? We were both so pissed."

"Shit," said Cullen. "Shit, shit, shit." He rubbed furiously at his hair. "I can't fucking remember."

Sharon went back to the teapot and poured out two mugs before putting the milk back in the fridge. He focused on her belly and what was growing in there. His seed, his child, his stupidity.

Sharon handed him the mug. "What are you thinking?"

"I thought you were avoiding something when I came home," said Cullen.

Sharon nodded slowly. "I've felt so crap over the last few days."

"Is it a cold?"

"No, it's not," said Sharon. "Well, not entirely. It's morning sickness and a cold and God knows what else."

"How do you know?" said Cullen.

Sharon blew on her tea. "Chantal brought a few tester kits round. Tried different brands and everything. They should have them on multi-buy."

"Stop joking about it," said Cullen. "Are you definitely pregnant?"

"I need to get it confirmed by a doctor, but three brands of pregnancy kit all agree."

"Shite."

Sharon took a big drink of tea. "You'd make a good dad."

"When I'm ready,
maybe
," said Cullen. "Not now."

"Really?" said Sharon, a frown flickering across her forehead.

"I don't know," said Cullen. "I just don't know."

"It's a huge thing. You need time to get used to it."

Cullen watched the cat as he poked his head out of the covered litter tray. "Did you do this on purpose?"

"Of course I fucking didn't." She slammed the mug down on the counter. "Christ, Scott, do you honestly think I could even consider doing that?"