Bottleneck (30 page)

Cullen looked up at the ceiling. "I knew that was coming."

"How's our case going?" said Turnbull.

"It's on a slight hiatus, sir," said Cargill. "DCs Jain and Buxton are looking into the few remaining options we have. We probably need to think about
Crimewatch
."

Turnbull nodded. "That will be good publicity for Police Scotland. We can put Graham and Bain in their boxes if we manage it appropriately."

"The only suspect we've got so far was under surveillance by Angus CID," said Cargill.

"Good Christ," said Turnbull, eyes wide. "I'm not still paying for that, am I?"

"Relax," said Cullen. "He returned to Edinburgh last night."

"So the surveillance is definitely cancelled?" said Turnbull.

"Yes," said Methven. "Stopped this afternoon when DC Cullen brought him in for interview."

"I'm not sure he's a suspect now," said Cullen. "I'd like another go at Roberts."

Turnbull hit the desk. "No. That's what's got us into this situation in the first place, Constable. The record label is putting severe pressure on us not to interfere. Apparently, supporting U2 will boost their sales figures and ability to turn a profit. We do not want to leave ourselves open to lawsuits. I want no further contact with Roberts without a formal sign-off from both myself and Detective Super Graham."

"Right," said Cullen.

"Am I making myself clear?" said Turnbull. "While I do have a lot of time for you, Constable, you have a tendency to get carried away with yourself."

Cullen clenched his fists under the table. "If anything comes up, sir, I will formally raise it with you through the appropriate channels."

"Good," said Turnbull. "I'm glad we're coming to an understanding here. We might make a senior officer out of you yet."

Cargill cleared her throat. "We will need you to resume your secondment to Glasgow South."

"So that's it," said Cullen, disappointment starting to bite. "I'm back in Glasgow?"

"That's right," said Cargill. "You'd better head through now. I expect a call from you first thing tomorrow updating me on progress."

"How is me being stuck through there going to help anything?" said Cullen.

"We need someone there who is more than aware of DI Bain's modus operandi," said Turnbull. "I need to be apprised of any funny business."

Cullen shook his head at the orders. "Fine."

"Is there something you wish to raise?" said Turnbull.

Cullen leaned back in the chair. He didn't want his balls chewed again, but he was feeling sick to the stomach of the games being played. "Earlier, you were talking about using the distance to our advantage. Two people are dead here. We shouldn't be thinking about politics and positioning, we should be finding out who killed them."

The reactions on their faces made him immediately regret it.

"It's not as simple as that," said Turnbull, his voice raised. "Please learn to look at the bigger picture if you want to become a leader, Constable."

"I think I am looking at it, sir," said Cullen. "Much as I hate DI Bain, we surely need to just get on with it."

"We must
manage
this," said Turnbull. "This is outwith our control and we have to wrestle it back." He had lost his tightly guarded temper. "DI Bain has an axe to grind and he's certainly sharpening it. There's no way to get him out of the picture. You saw how they were in there, any further complaints will just get their backs up."

"I agree," said Methven.

Turnbull pointed at Cullen. "You're known as someone who gets results but I will not have you up to your games, okay?"

Cullen bowed his head. "Sorry, sir."

"You must become more of a team player if you wish to advance," said Turnbull. "I asked DI Methven to brief you on that when your Acting DS tenure ended."

"I wasn't briefed," said Cullen.

Methven glared at him.

Turnbull frowned at Methven then Cargill. "We're done here." He got to his feet and led Cargill out of the room, leaving Cullen alone with Methven.

"I'd advise you to watch your mouth when speaking to Superintendent Turnbull," said Methven. "This isn't DI Bain you're dealing with, Constable."

"Noted," said Cullen, fire burning in his gut.

"I want you to inform me of your activities on an hourly basis," said Methven.

"What about DS Rarity?"

"Come directly to me," said Methven.

"If I'm to head to Glasgow, someone has to take Buxton back to Edinburgh."

"Why is he here?"

"To speak to Roberts," said Cullen. "He knew him."

"And did he speak to him?"

"No," said Cullen. "Bain wouldn't let him."

"For the love of goodness," said Methven. "Right. I'll take him back. Any more of your sodding cowboy heroics, you clear it with me first, okay?"

Cullen trudged through the Govan station security and made his way to the Incident Room.

McCrea looked over, grinning. "We had a bet on. The gaffer reckoned it would be you who'd come. Never one to shy away from a high profile investigation."

"I'm here to help," said Cullen. "I think it's best if I look for connections to the Edinburgh case, don't you?"

"Won't get an argument from me," said McCrea. "Just keep yourself out of my hair." He pulled on his jacket and got to his feet. "You're welcome to my desk, by the way. I'm off to see U2."

He hurried out of the station and left Cullen in the bustle of the Incident Room. He sat down at his desk and stared at the laminated wood.

U2
.

Of all the tedious, overblown, stadium...

Cullen hated U2. Despite his punk roots, Cullen's dad loved nothing better than blasting out
Sunday Bloody Sunday
on a Sunday morning.

In Cullen's eyes, they were music for people who hated music.

He was wasting his time in Glasgow, stuck between two warring factions of idiots, both as bad as each other. Bain was one of the worst human beings he'd ever encountered, but the politics and posturing on his own side sickened him. He didn't know which was in the right, if either.

All he could do was put his head down and get on with it. He pulled over the file and tried to make notes. He read for half an hour, only making a single scribble. He wished he was back in Edinburgh. He wished he wasn't working.

Near the back of the file he found a listing of Alex Hughes' calls leading up to his death. Two DCs sat at a desk just behind him. He craned round. "Has anyone been through these?"

They both looked blank. "Don't think so."

"Who would know?" said Cullen.

"Big Davie. Admin officer."

Cullen knew who Davie was, a bald officer in his early forties, lucky to have found his niche in admin. He found him after not too much searching.

"Cullen, isn't it?" said Davie.

"Aye. Has anyone looked through the phone records, do you know?"

Davie frowned. "Let me check." He picked up a ring binder, over-stuffed with paper. "Right. No, is the answer." He scratched his chin. "Should have been one of McCrea's lads."

"Cheers," said Cullen. "I'll do it."

"Lucky you," said Davie, scribbling on a form.

Cullen returned to his desk and sat down, relieved to have something to get on with. His nostril started twitching, a sure sign a cold was definitely on its way.

It took him a good forty minutes to build a decent cross-reference from the case file, ticking off the items on the list one by one, leaving just a single number he couldn't find. A ten-second phone call and a short wait later, his old mate Tommy Smith in Edinburgh Phone Squad came up with the goods.

It was Audrey Strang's number.

Cullen managed to get a space just outside the close on the Royal Mile. He sat in his car at the back of nine, his head now thick with the cold. He slowly got out and climbed the stairs to the flat, still full of resentment at being sent back to Glasgow.

Eyes and ears.

Checks and balances.

It was all bollocks.

"Dinner's in the cat." Sharon's eyes were focused on a soppy romantic comedy starring some actors Cullen recognised but couldn't name.

"He needs to go on a diet," said Cullen.

"He's just cuddly."

"When you said I was cuddly, I went on a diet," said Cullen.

"How was your bollocking?"

"I've still got both. I think Cargill and Turnbull's are a bit sore."

She laughed. "Mind if I watch this?"

"It's fine," said Cullen. "I've eaten, by the way."

"Good." Sharon pressed play again.

As he sat there, he tried to summarise sufficiently to allow him to get some sleep. Driving back, aside from bemoaning his superiors, Cullen had tried to work out how Audrey Strang and Alex Hughes were connected, other than through her brother.

Why would Strang's sister be calling his ex-bandmate?

Cullen recalled Strang's mother saying she'd spoken to Hughes on the phone a number of times.

Maybe the cases
were
linked after all.

He threw a few ideas around in his head, but it simply came down to needing to speak to Audrey Strang again.

Sharon paused the film. "What's up?" She folded her arms.

"How do you know something's up?"

"You're twitching," she said. "It's distracting."

"Sorry."

"Well?"

Cullen sat up. "So, you know I've been sent back through to Glasgow, right?"

"Was this before or after you told Bain to go fuck himself?"

"Both," said Cullen. "I did some digging just before I left. I found a connection between their victim and our victim's sister. They were speaking to each other on the phone."

"You should tell them."

"I will."

"Scott..."

"I
will
," said Cullen. "Once I've investigated it myself."

"You need to watch what you're doing," said Sharon. "You've got away with your cowboy stuff in the past but it will catch up with you in the end. Besides, Bain will hang anyone out to dry to cover his own arse. With a high profile case like this, Cargill and Turnbull won't want any blame attached to themselves."

"I'll let them know." Cullen sat back on the sofa. "I met up with Michelle this morning."

"In Glasgow?"

"Aye," said Cullen. "It was weird. In some ways it was good, but it was tough. I forgot how much of a total ball buster she is."

"It's a bit out of character for you to do something your mum has moaned at you about for months," said Sharon.

"It was connected to the case," said Cullen. "She used to go out with a suspect."

Sharon laughed, shaking her head. "You are unbelievable, Scott. You really are."

"Well, I am glad I met up with her," said Cullen. "That's got to count for something."

"Only in your head, Scott."

She pressed play again.

Thursday

4th April 2013
 

Cullen found Bain's number and called him.

"The briefing's just about to start," said Bain. "Where the fuck are you?"

"I won't make it in," said Cullen.

"Sundance, you're fuckin' supposed to be through here," said Bain. "You're their ears on the ground though here. Fuck me, I shouldn't be the one telling you what games they're playing."

"Look, I don't think I'll make it to the briefing," said Cullen. "Might make it in later. I've got this stinking cold. Picked it up off Sharon."

"You did, did you?" said Bain. "Fuckin' convenient it came the day after you were told to report to me, isn't it?"

"You can think what you like," said Cullen. "I'm not well. I'm on maximum strength Lemsip just to stop my brain dribbling out of my ears."

"When the fuck do you reckon you'll be back, then?" said Bain.

"Might be later on today," said Cullen. "Will see how it goes."

"Fuck's sake, Cullen. Can't believe the first thing I've got to do with you again is fuckin' sickness admin."

"Sorry."

"Remember I know when you're shittin' me, you silly bastard," said Bain.

"I just need some sleep and I'll be fine."

"Give me a call at lunchtime, all right?" said Bain.

"Will do."

Cullen hung up. He pocketed his phone, glad that was out of the way.

He walked out of the Kinross service station, taking a sip of coffee and crossing the busy car park. He fished his mobile out of his pocket and called Guthrie.

"What time is it?" said Guthrie.

"Seven."

"I'm not even awake yet," said Guthrie. "What are you after?"

"Just checking in."

"I'm strictly nine-to-five," said Guthrie. "Just as well the surveillance is now handled by your lot in Edinburgh."

"It's finished," said Cullen. "I don't think MacLeod is our man."

"That's nothing to do with me any more, then."

"You can help me, Goth. I need to speak to Audrey Strang again."

"Here we go on the Cullen merry-go-round," said Guthrie.

"Just bear with me. I'll be there in about an hour." He ended the call.

Cullen put the cup in the door and turned the key, before taking the Golf onto the M90 and towards Dalhousie.

Cullen met Guthrie outside Audrey's flat in Dalhousie.

"How's it going?" said Cullen.

Guthrie yawned. "You need to work on your small talk, mate."

"I'm serious." Cullen shrugged. "How are you doing?"

"Just got told they've seconded me to the Glasgow South MIT for this case. Thanks for that."

"Sorry. I'll make it up to you. Promise."

"I thought you were supposed to be in Glasgow yourself?" said Guthrie.

Cullen rubbed his nose. "I'm not well."

"So, why are you here?" said Guthrie.

Cullen shrugged. "I'm being looked after by my mother."

Guthrie shook his head. "Always the games with you, Skinky."

They looked up at Audrey's flat on the second floor.

"So, what are we doing here?" said Guthrie.

"Looks like she's been on the phone to Alex Hughes a fair amount," said Cullen.

"That's the Glasgow murder, right?"

Cullen nodded. "Aye."