Bottleneck (37 page)

"We need to stay," said Cullen.

"That boy could be getting away," said Bain. "He could be opening a door onto the Cowgate for all we know."

"I'm staying."

"Fuck's sake." Bain walked off into the gloom.

Within seconds, Cullen couldn't see or hear anything. He'd never felt so alone in his life, so far from anyone. They could be searching for Roberts for weeks down here, especially as it opened up into three additional passages, the possibilities expanding exponentially. Roberts would eventually have to surface for more supplies, but it could be weeks if he rationed himself.

Cullen heard a cry from Methven and McCrea's street. He spun round, shining the torch, seeing nothing. Another cry.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted.

"Bain!"

No response. He didn't know what to do. Fuck it.

He started to jog down the passage, narrowly avoiding grazing his arm on the stone walls as he extended his baton, his mind alive with fear.

After another ten seconds, he passed through a doorway and entered a vaulted chamber. Methven and McCrea were in a heap in the middle of the room.

Roberts appeared out of the gloom from behind, shining his torch at Cullen, forcing him to blink. "Well, this is slightly ghoulish."

Cullen stepped forward. "Mike Roberts, I am arresting you for the murders of Alex Hughes and James Strang. You are not obliged to say anything but anything you do say will be noted down and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?"

Roberts grinned. "No, I don't." He pulled out a large knife. "Get the fuck away from me."

Cullen looked at Methven. "How do you want us to play this, sir?"

There was no answer.

"Get back." Roberts slashed the knife through the air, pushing Cullen further back.

"You're surrounded," said Cullen.

"Am I really?" said Roberts. The torchlight gave his face a demonic look. "Just keep on backing yourself into the corner."

Cullen felt cold stone against his back.

"Chuck your torch down," said Roberts. "Now."

Cullen reluctantly tossed his flashlight. In the darkness, he lurched forward and swung with his baton.

He missed by millimetres.

Roberts grabbed his wrist and tugged Cullen to the floor, sending his baton bouncing away.

"Get up."

Cullen stumbled to his feet, hands raised.

"No more funny business." Roberts pointed the knife at him. "Now, into the middle of the room."

Cullen walked slowly in the darkness, his discarded torch lighting up the ancient stone.

Roberts gestured towards his fellow officers. "Just keep on walking that way."

Cullen looked down at Methven and McCrea. Neither moved.

"You'll go away for a very long time," said Cullen.

"You'll have to catch me first," said Roberts. "There are a few exits I haven't tried here. I don't think I'll have to go out the way I came in."

"They'll still find you," said Cullen.

"Shut the fuck up."

Roberts grabbed Cullen by the wrist, spinning him around, his knife hovering over his throat. Cullen felt cold steel press into his skin, pricking his throat just below the Adam's apple.

"You're surrounded," said Cullen, trying not to swallow. "You won't get away."

"I've got a hostage, now," said Roberts. "Had to be you, didn't it?"

"You won't get anywhere," said Cullen, trying to make his voice sound hard, while inside he felt desperate and frightened. "You're a celebrity. You're fucked."

"You're probably right," said Roberts. "Then again, you might not be."

He held the knife out, angled towards them. Cullen shut his eyes, waiting for the blade to slice his throat.

"We're going to try the front door," said Roberts. "We'll turn around slowly, then walk back the way you came. Okay?"

Cullen's courage deserted him. "Okay." He slowly swivelled round, every movement pushing the knife closer to his throat.

A blow sent him flying backwards and pushed Roberts to the ground.

Cullen rolled to the side, trying to get away. His fingers went to his throat. It was dry. It was still intact. He slowly took in the scene, a new torch lighting up the room.

Roberts got to his feet, eyes fixed on his knife, now lying near Cullen and covered in blood. Cullen jumped at Roberts, sending him flying backwards. He pinned him to the ground and forced his arms behind his back. He reached into his pocket and retrieved his handcuffs, securing Roberts.

Cullen kneeled behind him, breathing hard.

A squad of uniform entered the room, taking control of the situation. Two officers took one of Roberts' arms each while a third applied a headlock.

Bain stood behind the melee, dimly lit up in the torchlight, arms clutched to his chest. His fingers pushed through the gaps in his shirt, soaked in blood. He slumped to the ground.

Cullen lurched forward, hovering over Bain. "GET AN AMBULANCE!"

"Fucker stabbed me," said Bain.

"Are you okay?" said Cullen.

Bain looked up, his eyes glassy. "I'm pretty fuckin' far from okay, Sundance."

His eyes closed and his body went limp.

Cullen stood on the Royal Mile, unable to stop shaking. Someone had put a blanket around his shoulders but it didn't help

Methven sat in the ambulance as his head was bandaged by a paramedic. "Just a graze," he said to Cullen. "Hurts like buggery, though."

McCrea was similarly lucky, a torch to the head knocking him clean out. He was suffering from concussion but would live.

Cullen nodded, as he looked up and down the street. The press had arrived, telephoto lenses defeating even the most assertive officers.

Cargill walked over. "Are you okay?"

Cullen nodded. "Nothing damaged. Any news about Bain?"

Cargill shook her head. "Nothing yet." She bit her lip.

"Right." Cullen felt close to tears.

"Bain saved your life," said Cargill.

Cullen looked away. "I know," he said, tears flowing.

They stood in silence for a few moments.

Cullen contemplated another lost officer on his conscience. He looked up. "Why did it take so long for anybody to come?"

"I'm sorry?"

"The plan was for two squads to go in, one after the other," said Cullen. "Why did nobody come inside? There was supposed to be another team."

Cargill put a hand on her hip. "Orders from O'Keefe. Last minute change."

"Fuck's sake," said Cullen. "Bain could have survived this."

"He still might." Cargill tried to smile but failed to convince. "We need to make sure this comes out well for us."

Cullen tossed the blanket to the floor and got to his feet. "Is that all you're interested in?"

"That's not all, Scott," said Cargill, smiling coldly. "I want to know the public still has faith in the police." She rubbed her forehead. "DI Bain was a rogue officer. You know that more than most."

"I guess I do," said Cullen. "I don't like having his death on my conscience, though."

"The force isn't having a good time of it as it is," said Cargill. "If we're to uphold the law then we need the public on our side. This is about public order more than anything."

"I suppose you're right," said Cullen, looking away.

"We've been impressed by your attitude recently," said Cargill. "You've matured a lot."

"Thanks." Cullen looked up at the grey sky. "Do you mind if I take the rest of the day off?"

Cargill smiled. "That's fine."

Cullen nodded thanks at her and Methven then trundled down the Royal Mile towards World's End Close, home and a long bath.

He couldn't process what had happened.

Bain, for so long an antagonist to Cullen, was now on his way to the ERI. Despite his hatred, Cullen had some level of sympathy with the man. All the shit Bain had gone through in the last year had clearly taken a toll and he was lucky to still have a job. The police force would be better off without him, that's for sure, but him dying would be hard to take.

Cullen would never hear the name Sundance again.

He'd never meet anyone who swore quite so much.

Worst of all, Bain would die a hero and earn his redemption sacrificing himself.

Cullen knew it would be worse if he lived.

He pushed his heavy legs up the stairs to the flat. He fumbled the keys in the lock, eventually opening the door. For once, the cat didn't greet him. He headed to the living room, desperate to make a sandwich before his bath.

Sharon lay on the sofa, arm dangling at her side. She wasn't moving.

Cullen lurched forward, hand groping for a pulse and eventually finding one. He put his head against her chest, hearing the faintest heartbeat.

What the fuck was he going to do? He fumbled for his phone, ready to dial 999.

The paramedics.

They were still on site for the Roberts operation.

Cullen bolted out of the flat, running up the Royal Mile past waves of tourists, before he got to the ring of rubberneckers around the top of Niddry Street.

"Police. Let me through."

He barged his way to the remaining ambulance, the paramedics now in the process of packing up.

"Help!"

He ran to the male paramedic. "I need help."

"What's happened? Are you okay?"

"My girlfriend," said Cullen. "Something's happened to her. She's unconscious. She's pregnant."

Cargill's eyes bulged.

"Show us," said the paramedic.

Cullen rushed back to the flat, the way easier with the assistance of a few of the burlier officers. He bounded up the stairs and into the flat, standing around while they set about Sharon.

As he collapsed onto the armchair, Fluffy curled up on his lap.

Countless hours later, Cullen sat in the waiting area at Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, sipping bad coffee, Sharon's mother stroking his back.

It had been touch and go for hours.

Nobody had spoken to Cullen. He didn't know anything, except Sharon was still breathing.

"Scott."

Mary McNeill was shaking his arm.

"What?"

Mary pointed away. "They're here to see you."

McCrea stood there looking wary, his head bandaged.

"I'll go and see what's happening with that daughter of mine," said Mary, before walking off.

McCrea sat down slowly. "Heard you were here. Hope it's nothing serious."

Cullen didn't make eye contact. "We'll see."

"He confessed," said McCrea. "Roberts. He killed Strang and Hughes. Says Strang attacked him with the screwdriver and it was sort of an accident but he didn't think we'd see it that way. Hughes was a lot more calculated."

"So I was right?" said Cullen.

"Aye," said McCrea. "Not your fuck up."

"How's Bain?"

McCrea scratched at the stubble on his chin. "I don't know yet. They induced a coma in the ambulance. That's all I know."

"It's good of you to wait with him," said Cullen.

"He'd do the same for me," said McCrea. "I know you and him didn't see eye to eye, but he's not a bad guy."

Cullen didn't know what to say. It didn't seem to be the right time to conduct a character assassination. "I hope he pulls through. I never want to hear the end of him saving my life."

McCrea nodded his head slowly. "He did that. He saved us all."

Mary reappeared, smiling at Cullen. "You can go see her now."

The information didn't register with Cullen.

"Sharon," said Mary. "She's awake."

"Don't you want to go in first?" said Cullen.

"You're her man, Scott. It's only right."

Cullen staggered to his feet, putting the half-drunk coffee on the floor. "Thanks."

McCrea got up too. "I'll see you around."

A smiling nurse led Cullen through to Sharon's room. She lay on the bed, tubes and wires coming out of her, skin pale. Her bloodshot eyes looked up at him, tears welling.

"I lost her."

Cullen felt like he'd been shot.

Her
.

For eight weeks, he'd had a daughter.

And now she'd gone. Tears lashed down his cheeks. They would never stop. His daughter.

"Oh God," said Sharon. "I'm so sorry."

Cullen sucked in deep breaths, trying to stop the tears. "Don't be sorry." He leaned in, hugging her tight. "I thought I'd lost
you
."

She caressed the hair on the top of his head. "It'll take more than that to get me."

"Don't
ever
leave me," said Cullen.

"I won't."

He collapsed down on the chair beside the bed, all energy sapped from his body. He held her hand. "I think I wanted a child."

Sharon looked away. "Me too. When Chantal showed me the test kit that first time, I felt so angry. How could I have been so stupid? Now I've lost her, I just don't know what to think."

"What happened?" said Cullen.

"Stress," said Sharon. "The job. The drinking. They don't know but my body didn't take to the baby very well. I shouldn't have been pushing myself so hard."

"Hey, it's okay," said Cullen. "We've still got each other."

"I know," said Sharon.

"This has really scared the shit out of me. I thought I'd lost you." He staggered to his feet. "It's made me think about everything and put it all in context."

"Scott, don't you dare get down on one knee."

SCOTT CULLEN WILL RETURN IN
 

"WINDCHILL"

(Scott Cullen Mysteries Book 6)

Available for pre-order now

Book 7, "COWBOYS & INDIANS" will be out late 2014/early 2015

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Afterword

Thanks for buying and reading BOTTLENECK. I really hope you enjoyed it.

This was a tough one to research. As you'll have discovered, Police Scotland was formed during this time. I've just been on Radio Scotland talking about how difficult it was - I had to do a lot more research than usual, especially given how central it was to the plot. The information here is accurate - at the vantage point of a year after the implementation, I'd say the whole thing seems to have gone well, with some notable convictions under their belts.