Bottleneck (26 page)

"I'm not going up there," said Cullen.

"I'm ordering you," said McCrea, tossing a torch at Cullen.

Cullen practically had to bite his tongue as he extended his baton again. He squatted to be lifted by the uniform, who swayed with the effort. He pushed the hatch and raised his head. He didn't need the torch.

Covering an entire floor of the building was a room that looked like some twisted snooker hall - beneath rows of strip lights sat crops of cannabis plants in wooden planters lined with tinfoil.

Cullen turned to take in the full picture.

Something flashed in the corner of his eye.

A boot smashed into his face.

He toppled down, sending his carrier sprawling inside the wardrobe. Cullen landed hard on the floor.

"He's up there," said Cullen, blood pouring out of his burst mouth.

"Is he armed?" said McCrea.

"I've no idea," said Cullen, dabbing at his lip. "You need to sort him out."

McCrea clenched his fists. "Get me that armed response squad."

Cullen and McCrea got back to the CID office in Govan station an hour later. Cullen still dabbing at his split lip.

Bain sat at his desk in the middle of the Incident Room, hammering on his laptop. He took one look at Cullen's lip and exploded with laughter. "What the fuck happened to you, Sundance?"

"I found out where your suspect was," said Cullen.

"Did you, really?" said Bain.

"Found a nice little hydroponics factory."

"We got hold of Nicholls," said McCrea. "Had to use the ARU."

Bain looked like he knew a bollocking was heading his way. "Was he armed?"

"We weren't sure." McCrea sniffed.

"Was he armed, Sergeant?" said Bain.

"No."

Cullen held up his hands. "This is nothing to do with me. I got lifted up to have a look. Nicholls kicked me rather than shooting me. Calling in the Armed Response Unit was entirely DS McCrea's call."

"I stand by my man," said Bain.

McCrea shrugged. "Either way. Nicholls is going down for this."

"Good work, Sergeant," said Bain.

"Are you sure he killed Hughes?" said Cullen.

"One hundred per cent."

"I've seen you like this before."

Bain stabbed a finger in the air. "I'd advise you to keep your fuckin' thoughts to yourself, Cullen."

"If you can't convince me this is your killer," said Cullen, "then I don't see you being able to convince the PF, let alone a jury."

"We know Nicholls was Hughes's dealer," said Bain. "Hughes owed him a large sum of money."

"And that's it?" said Cullen.

Bain shook his head, before turning his attentions to McCrea. "A word in private, Sergeant." He led McCrea out of the room.

Cullen slumped down in a chair and picked at the wood of the desk, fed up with whatever shite Bain was trying to pull here. They had very little evidence pointing to Nicholls being behind Hughes' murder.

Bain and McCrea came back in just as Cullen sneezed.

"You shouldn't be here if you've got a cold, Sundance," said Bain. "Don't want you spreading your fuckin' germs everywhere." He grinned. "Then again I know your sickness record has held you back a few times over the years."

Cullen stared at him for a few seconds then shook his head. He got up and left the room, marching to the front of the station.

Taking a deep breath of bitter April air, he let the dull grey morning envelope him and watched the meat wagon finally arrive, ferrying Nicholls and his acolytes in. If Bain was wrong, the conviction for the weed farm might get a bit sticky.

He reached into his pocket and got out his phone. Cargill, Methven or Turnbull? He picked one.

Cargill sounded harassed. "How can I help?"

"Have you got a couple of minutes?" said Cullen.

"Not really. Make it quick, please."

Cullen rapidly recounted what had happened with Nicholls, including his split lip and the possible abuse of an Armed Response Unit.

"It feels like I'm being used as Glasgow resource," he said. "I'm not progressing our case in any way, shape, manner or form."

Cargill was silent for a few seconds. "Right, get back through here. I'll get Jim Turnbull to deal with this."

"Thanks." Cullen ended the call.

He went back inside and found Bain alone in the Incident Room scribbling on a notepad. The room had emptied since Nicholls arrived, even the pair of DCs who normally sat in the far corner had gone. McCrea had disappeared as well.

Bain looked up as Cullen approached. "What is it now?"

"I'm heading back through to Edinburgh," said Cullen.

"No, you're not," said Bain. "You're my resource, Sundance."

"I'm not your resource. I'm with Edinburgh MIT. Speak to DCI Cargill."

"When the fuck did she become DCI?" said Bain.

"I suggest you keep on top of your briefings," said Cullen, thinking back to Guthrie's knowledge of his own demotion.

"I'm too busy doing actual fuckin' work." Bain looked at Cullen long and hard before he nodded slowly. "All right. I know what's happening here. Sundance, you've made your bed so I'll let you lie in the wet patch."

"Classy."

"You've not heard the fuckin' last of this," said Bain.

Cullen looked Bain up and down, before laughing. "Go fuck yourself. You're lucky to still have a job, you bullying wanker."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard," said Cullen. "I don't have to put up with you any longer."

"You can't speak to a superior officer like that," said Bain.

"Like what?" said McCrea, appearing from nowhere.

"He told me to go fuck myself," said Bain.

"Aye, he did," said McCrea.

Cullen leaned in close to Bain, his voice unsteady. "After the way you treat people, you honestly think you can make something of this?"

"Insubordination is written all over your record," said Bain. "Even I struggled to manage you. You were always trying to be the hero and heading off on some wild goose chase."

Cullen tried to hold the reptilian gaze but had to break off. "Just speak to Cargill."

"I will be escalating this," said Bain.

Cullen felt sweat trickle down his back as he left the room.

Half an hour later, Cullen sat in a cafe on St Vincent Street in Glasgow, his restless fingers folding and unfolding a Post-It as he waited. His car was just round the corner, abusing the
On Police Business
sign. His phone lay face down on the table, the ringer on mute.

Michelle Cullen walked in, looking harassed. She eventually spotted him and gave the briefest smile before coming over to his table, dumping her coat on the chair opposite.

"Thanks for seeing me at short notice," said Cullen.

Michelle's eyes were on the board behind the counter. "Thanks for getting in touch."

He pushed his empty mug to one side. "Can I get you a coffee?"

"I'll get them in, little brother," said Michelle. "You're just a police officer, after all."

"An Americano," said Cullen, through gritted teeth.

"Be right back."

He watched her go to the counter and order. "Just a police officer. Fuck's sake." She was
just
an IT worker.

She'd put on weight since he'd last seen her and her hair was dyed entirely the wrong colour for her skin. It struck him that she looked like a shorter version of him with long hair.

Michelle returned with two big mugs. "There you go. Loads of milk, just how you like it."

"Thanks." Cullen stirred his coffee. "How've you been?"

"Good," said Michelle. "Busy, but good. It's been full-on since we had Emily, though."

"In what way?"

"It's just hard having a small child, Scott." She poured a sachet of brown sugar onto her latte and stirred. "And I'm not talking about Jeremy."

Cullen laughed. He'd got on okay with Michelle's husband, an English guy she met when she worked in London, a man-child just like her brother. "How's he doing?"

"He thinks a screenplay is going to be his saviour now."

"Gave up on the books, then?" said Cullen.

"They gave up on him, more like."

"He's still not working?" said Cullen.

"No," said Michelle. "I'm the breadwinner. He does a good job around the house, to be honest. We're having so much work done and he's great at managing it."

"Finally found a use for him, then."

"He's really patient with Emily," said Michelle. "Much more than me." She stared into the middle distance. "I mean, I'm working through here and I don't usually get home till after seven so I barely see her."

"That must be tough."

Michelle shrugged. "Yeah." She took a drink of coffee. "How's your flat? Still living with Tom?"

"I moved in with Sharon," said Cullen. "We live just off the Royal Mile."

Michelle smiled. "How is she?"

"She's good, I suppose," said Cullen, looking away.

"What is it?"

Cullen stared into the swirling coffee in front of him. "She's pregnant."

Michelle's eyes bulged. "I didn't know you had it in you, little brother."

"Very funny," said Cullen. "I'm shitting myself."

"You'll make a good dad. You're a total idiot but I think you've got a good sense of what's right."

Cullen raised his eyebrows. "An idiot?"

"I mean it," said Michelle. "Not the idiot bit. I mean about you being a good dad."

"Aye, maybe when I'm ready."

"Scott, you're thirty-one next month," said Michelle. "When
are
you going to be ready?"

"Not now," said Cullen. "I earn fuck all and stuff is weird at work."

"What about Sharon?"

"I love her," said Cullen.

Michelle laughed. "No, I meant is she ready?"

"I don't think either of us are. We had all that shit last year as well."

"Mum told me," said Michelle. "She was pretty upset about it."

"Was she?" Cullen shook his head. "Sharon's pushing for a DI position. She's under a lot of stress. I don't think it's good for her in that condition."

"Look after her," said Michelle. "I liked her the one time you let us meet. She's a keeper."

"Let us meet?"

"You know what I mean," said Michelle. "You can be a bit of a stranger at the best of times."

"It's called being busy." Cullen took a drink of his coffee, gripping the handle tight. "It's good coffee. Better than the shit in the station."

Michelle ran a hand through her hair. "I really like it in here, which is why I suggested it."

"You guys live in Linlithgow now, right?" said Cullen.

"Lots of questions, Detective Sergeant Cullen."

He looked away. "It's Detective Constable again."

"Mum didn't say," said Michelle. "You really annoyed me, you know?"

"I'm sorry," said Cullen. "Really I am. You need to stop being so precious, though."

"It wasn't funny, Scott. Jeremy and I had a huge argument about the card you sent."

"
How?
"

Michelle screwed her face up. "
Congratulations, see you in eighteen years
?"

"And?"

"That's not very sensitive, is it?"

"I'm your brother. I was just taking the piss."

"I know you're just a year younger than me," said Michelle, "but you can be too close, you know?"

"I'm just having a laugh," said Cullen. "You should lighten up."

"You're one to talk."

Cullen took a deep breath. "Look, I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean to upset you. I take it all back."

Michelle took a drink of latte and traced the lines of her eyebrows with her thumb and forefinger. "Apology accepted," she said eventually.

"Thanks."

"So, why are you so keen to see me?" said Michelle.

"Can't I just want to?"

"Not you, Scott. There's always an agenda with you."

Cullen tossed the Post-It on the table. "Mum gave me this."

Michelle picked it up and inspected it. She shook her head. "I still don't buy it."

Cullen laughed. "Fine. Matt MacLeod."

Michelle rolled her eyes. "That wanker."

"You went out with him, didn't you?"

"He was in
your
year at school," said Michelle, as if accusing him of ownership.

"I hated him," said Cullen. "I think that's why he went out with you."

"Nothing to do with how good my blow jobs were?"

Cullen came close to snorting coffee through his nose. "I forgot you're as depraved as me."

"Blame Dad," said Michelle. "So what's he done to you? Tell me you're not digging up old grievances."

Cullen rubbed his ear for a moment. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this but he's a suspect in a murder case."

Michelle covered her mouth. "
Matt
is?"

"Aye," said Cullen. "Do you remember James Strang?"

"I knew his sister," said Michelle. "She was a bit weird. She was in your year, wasn't she?"

"She was, aye." Cullen nodded. "Apparently I used to bully her but I've managed to totally forget it."

"You heartless bastard," said Michelle, grinning. "I don't think it was too bad. Some people just need to man up, you know? Or woman up."

"Well, it's obviously fucked her up. I feel guilty about it."

"Some people get fucked up going to the shops."

Cullen laughed. "So, Matt MacLeod. Did he have anything to do with the Strangs? Did he bully him?"

"Can't remember," said Michelle. "Matt was in a band, wasn't he? They were the big thing in your year. Weren't they playing the school hall all the time? I think the one James Strang was in supported them at a school show or something."

"So they knew each other?"

"Aye," said Michelle.

"Why on earth would he kill him, though?" said Cullen.

"That's why you get paid the little bucks." She laughed at her joke. "If I remember correctly, you got angry with Matt for going out with me, didn't you?"

Cullen's face reddened. "Did I?"

"Yes," said Michelle. "You were always very protective of your big sister."

"I just knew he was a wanker. That's all."

"I found out quickly." She smiled and flicked her eyebrows up. "Of course, you've got a motive to kill him."