The Black Isle

by Ed James

  Murray pushed himself up to standing and opened the door. He peered out. Looked clear. But no sign of Cullen or the guards.

  Murray tugged at Hunter’s sleeve. ‘This is going to blow up!’ He sprawled forward, toppling out into the cold air.

  Hunter crouched to help him up, putting an arm over his shoulder. Still no sign of Cullen.

  An explosion rang out from behind them. The shockwave ripped through them, pushing them flat to the wet steel. Metal flew through the air, a chunk landing right next to Murray. The block started shaking, the nearest corner tumbling in.

  ‘They’re demolishing the place.’ Murray pointed up as a second corner toppled in. A fire raged already.

  Hunter picked him up again in a fireman’s carry and tried to get distance between them and the collapsing structure.

  Another explosion, but further away. Then another, and a fourth. The industrial block crumbled inwards, flattened. Then a fifth explosion, right in the middle. Flames started licking the air, the heat touching Hunter’s face.

  ‘Craig!’ Cullen’s voice was barely a whisper above the bedlam around them. ‘What the fuck is going on?’

  ‘Controlled detonation.’ Hunter breathed hard. ‘Admir’s burning the evidence. We need to get away.’ He grabbed Murray and set off across the platform, heading for the ladder back down.

  Through the noise, Hunter could make out a speedboat motor. No sign of Fiona now. Admir was clambering down another ladder to the jetty.

  Hunter put a finger to his lips, getting a nod from Cullen, then sneaked over towards them.

  Admir was on the middle platform, talking on a radio in his native tongue.

  Hunter kept it slow as he climbed, listening for cues and watching for body language, anything to show him wrapping up his call, anything to show he was aware of Hunter.

  Admir looked up when Hunter was five metres or so above him.

  He let go and plummeted, landing on Admir.

  Admir tried to elbow him but Hunter caught the move, shifting his weight to the side. Crack. Hunter kneed him in the kidneys. An open-palmed punch on the back and Admir sprawled forward, his head thunking off the floor. Hunter pinned him to the platform, pushing all his weight onto him.

  ‘You sick bastard.’ Hunter pulled him up to standing and started walking him to the ladder. ‘You bring drugs into this country and ruin people’s lives. Including my brother’s. Why shouldn’t I just throw you off the side?’

  ‘You should kill me now. I will get away.’

  ‘No, you fucking won’t.’ Hunter stopped him by the rungs. ‘You’ll be in prison for a very long time.’

  Admir elbowed him in the ribs, and a million sharp teeth bit into Hunter’s chest. Admir made a break for the ladder and Hunter threw himself at Admir, sending him flying. Hunter landed on his back and grabbed hold of him by the throat.

  A fresh explosion rung out and the whole oil rig rocked to the side.

  Admir slipped out of his grip and Hunter slid across the platform. He caught the ladder, now at a strange angle, and held it tight. Admir was rolling and Hunter reached for him. He grabbed a hand and held on.

  Another explosion rocked them. Hunter struggled to keep his grip on the ladder and Admir’s hand slipped. The Albanian fell into the sea, arms and legs windmilling as he flew, like King Kong plunging to his death.

  Hunter held on to the ladder, his fingers ice cold and struggling. He looked around. No sign of Cullen or Murray. Shite! Another explosion. A deep moaning sound tore out. The rig was going to tip over.

  Down in the water, Admir’s floating corpse was caught in the lights, his face red raw. Very dead. Then he dipped below the surface.

  Hunter had one move here. Get into the water, stabilise his breathing, then swim far enough away from the rig. Or try for Osprey Alpha. He took it slow going down, his fingers slithering around the slimy metal. The wind lashed at him. His fingers slipped and he dropped.

  He plunged under the water with a cold blast. He surfaced, breathing stuttering out like a machine gun. Panicking. Heart racing. Shivering. Shaking.

  Then a hand grabbed him, pulling him back. Up and over. ‘Come on, big guy.’ Cullen.

  Hunter’s teeth were chattering, his whole body felt like melting ice.

  Murray was sitting next to him.

  34

  ‘Is she safe?’

  Three o’clock in the interview room in Inverness, and Hunter was held together by rancid machine coffee. ‘Who?’

  Oswald rolled his eyes. ‘My wife. Is she safe?’

  ‘She is, aye, but you should be more concerned for yourself. You’re going to prison for a long time.’

  ‘Be very careful.’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’

  Oswald just looked at his lawyer, Anna Patel. She seemed to have cornered all the players in this drug ring. Neither said anything.

  ‘You think that, as a lord, you’re above the law. That it?’

  ‘After the assistance I gave you? Finding your brother?’

  ‘You were dealing in pure heroin. Helping an Albanian gang to transport it into the country on boats to one of your oil rig platforms, cutting it on a second before you brought it ashore.’

  ‘Okay…’

  ‘You’re admitting it?’

  Oswald sat back, arms crossed, lips pursed.

  ‘You held my brother captive, tortured him.’

  ‘You should consider writing this down, I’m sure James Patterson would publish it under his own name.’

  ‘Wait, you’re denying all of this?’

  ‘Of course I am. You’ve trespassed on my property, twice. The first time, I could forgive. But the second, you were responsible for the destruction of the Osprey Beta. I don’t know how you did it, but we were in the process of decommissioning it.’

  ‘It looked very much like a heroin factory to me.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you’ll have experts in trying to prove some spurious connection, but that was a standard industrial operation.’

  Hunter looked at Cullen and got a nod. ‘Iain Oswald, I’m arresting you for—’

  The custody sergeant led Oswald away by the arm.

  Cullen patted Hunter’s shoulder. ‘Good work there, Craig.’

  ‘Really? Can’t help but think he’ll get away with this.’

  ‘You’ve got your brother back and we’ve bust apart a drug-smuggling ring. We’ve solved two murders. I think. Might be three. I’m so tired, I can’t even remember. Either way, that’s decent work, by anyone’s book.’

  Hunter let his breath out. ‘Feels like Oswald’s getting away with it.’

  ‘Well, there’s nobody left that can or will testify against him. His wife won’t. That Admir guy’s been fished out of the sea.’

  ‘I can’t figure out if he was lying and he’s behind it all.’

  ‘I don’t know, mate. That’s for the PF to progress. Way above our pay grade.’

  ‘And yours is way above mine.’

  ‘Speaking of which, you want to take me up on that offer?’

  ‘You really think I’m a sergeant?’

  Cullen grinned. ‘You telling me you’re not?’

  ‘Fine, Scott, I’ll take it.’ Hunter let out a weary groan. ‘Look, I’ll be counting the costs for a while, though. Murray’s—’

  ‘Alive, Craig. Your brother’s alive.’

  ‘True.’

  The far door opened and Chantal walked through. ‘Get off my case!’

  Yvonne appeared next, holding out some paperwork. ‘You need to get this signed off and…’ They headed away, cutting off their voices.

  Hunter shook his head at Cullen. ‘You should’ve told me about Yvonne, you dickhead.’

  ‘See, this is exactly why I didn’t. You can be a right twat at times.’ Cullen grinned, but it faded to a frown. ‘Are you upset?’

  ‘No, it’s just…’ Hunter fought hard against a yawn. The wo
rst way to undermine your anger was to look like you needed a couple of days’ sleep. ‘Okay, I am. You ruined a perfectly good relationship. You shagged her behind my back.’

  ‘So did she.’

  ‘When the dick is hard, the mind is soft.’ Hunter scowled at him. ‘That’s not a good excuse. In fact, it makes you seem like a total prick.’

  ‘Craig, I’m sorry I upset you. Maybe one day you’ll get over it. You’ve got Chantal now and you seem happy for the first time since I’ve known you. You and Yvonne were never suited to each other.’

  ‘And you and her are?’

  ‘I think so. I mean, you were arguing all the time. At home, at work. You were fucking miserable.’

  Hunter locked eyes with him and saw the truth, right there. He was miserable with Yvonne. Depressed. All those raging arguments, shouting matches going on into the middle of the night, screaming at each other, until neither could remember what it was even about. He was right, they weren’t suited. Too much alike, or too different. Either way, it wasn’t what he needed at the time, and it clearly wasn’t what she did. He smiled at Cullen. ‘I just wish you’d stop being such a twat.’

  ‘Never going to happen, and you know it.’ Cullen clapped him on the back. ‘Maybe one day we’ll remember what happened and you’ll feel better about it.’

  35

  Hunter got out of the car and yawned. ‘Jesus, I need my bed.’

  ‘You’re just up.’ Chantal looked across the car roof at him. ‘Maybe you need longer than three hours’ sleep?’

  ‘Right.’ Another yawn, felt like he was going to split his lips at the side. He shook his head violently and set off through the morning rain, half asleep.

  Jock stood in the hospital entranceway, fiddling with his mobile phone.

  Hunter stopped dead. ‘Oh god.’

  ‘You okay?’

  ‘Not really.’ Hunter glanced at Chantal. ‘My PTSD’s been bad. I forgot to take my meds and the flashbacks were back with a vengeance.’

  ‘Craig.’

  ‘I had this one I’d completely forgotten about. When my grandpa died, and Jock was hungover as fuck. That wasn’t long before he left for good. Well, left for the first time. Mum went to pieces, her old man dying like that. Heart attack. I didn’t remember it until now. It’s all coming back to me. And it’s also tough being with the old bastard, you know? He’s my dad, but he’s a total dick.’

  She rubbed his arm. ‘You don’t have to have anything to do with him, you know that?’

  ‘I know. I just wish he’d say sorry, you know? For fucking me up. For fucking Murray up.’

  ‘That’s the last thing he’ll do.’

  Jock looked up and seemed to groan. ‘Craig.’

  ‘How you doing?’

  Jock’s turn to yawn. Maybe he’d caught it from his son. ‘I’m okay, I suppose. Can’t believe the state of my boy, though.’

  ‘Me neither.’ Hunter rubbed his forehead. ‘We’ll get Oswald for this.’

  ‘Sure about that?’

  Hunter could only offer a shrug. ‘They fished the body of the gang leader out of the firth this morning. Admir.’

  ‘Son, I’m sorry about being such a dick about him being…’ Jock sighed. ‘About his sexuality. I’m fine with it.’ He rubbed nascent tear from his eye. ‘I accept my boy for who he is.’

  ‘That’s brave of you.’

  ‘Aye. It’s a sair fecht, son.’ Jock grinned. ‘Maybe you’ll give me grandchildren, though.’

  ‘What?’ Chantal looked like she was going to lamp him one.

  Hunter held her back. ‘That’s a horrible thing to say and, besides, you’re giving yourself your own grandchildren.’

  ‘What the hell’s that supposed to—’

  ‘Jock!’ A shrill voice from behind them. Then clacking footsteps, followed by a young woman throwing herself at Jock, landing with him holding her in a straddle. Red velour tracksuit, shiny dark ponytail, orange tan, giant hoop earrings and shiny white trainers. She snogged him, hard. ‘My god, it’s good to see you.’

  ‘And you.’ Jock kissed her back, then held her straddling him, holding her there. ‘Craig, this is Kirsten.’

  He got a look of her face now. She looked like a schoolgirl, all soft features, but with the built muscle of a mature lapdancer. And clearly in love with his father. In a deeply creepy way. Hunter had seen daddy issues before but this was something else. ‘Nice to meet you.’

  ‘And you.’ She hugged Jock tight, then got down to standing and looked up into his eyes from at least a foot below. ‘I need to speak to you.’

  ‘Okay.’ Jock winked at Hunter then set off through the car park.

  ‘How the hell…’ Hunter didn’t care. Couldn’t care anymore. ‘Come on.’ He entered the hospital and clocked the sign for intensive care. Not too far. Thankfully the Inverness hospital wasn’t on the scale of one in the lowlands, even Stirling or Dundee.

  ‘How do you feel about your new mum?’

  Hunter turned to scowl at Chantal as they walked. ‘She’s not my mum. Christ.’

  ‘I’m just winding you up.’

  ‘Aye, no shit you are. Still, it’s not funny.’

  ‘She’s crazy about him.’

  ‘Then she’s crazy.’ Hunter turned the corner into another long corridor. ‘I mean, he’s made his bed but he’s fucked up two kids. Me and Murray. I don’t want to know what…’ A bitter taste filled his mouth as he reached the nurse’s station. ‘I mean, she’s pregnant with his kid. That’s fucked up.’

  ‘Completely.’ Chantal grinned at the nurse. ‘Here to see Murray Hunter.’

  ‘Right.’ She checked her computer. ‘Room six. Limit of three at a time, though.’

  ‘How many in just now?’

  ‘One.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Chantal led Hunter over to the room.

  Murray lay on the bed, hooked up to more machines than a Transformer. His eye bags had puffed up, along with his face. Still had a dazed expression, but at least he recognised his brother. ‘Hey, Craig. Chantal.’

  ‘Muz.’ Hunter sat on the chair and beckoned for Chantal to join him in the other. ‘How you doing?’

  ‘Fucked, bro.’ He sighed. ‘I heard about Keith.’

  Hunter nodded. ‘I’m sorry, Muz. I found his body. It was…’ He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry this happened to you.’

  Murray smiled at Chantal. ‘We’d been going out longer than you two. I loved him.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. Really.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Murray stared up at the ceiling. ‘We were just dicking about. How… How could it come to this?’

  Hunter didn’t point out the dead man’s switch email contained a warning about the dangers of urbexing. He just held Murray’s hand.

  ‘I’ve been seeing a therapist for a bit. We’ve been talking about my need for adventure, to explore things, to rush in. He thinks it’s so I can make Grandpa come back to life.’

  ‘Grandpa?’

  ‘You remember?’

  ‘I do. I’ve been… I remember us finding Grandpa’s body.’

  ‘Still freaks me out. They should’ve given us counselling, Craig!’

  ‘Jock just gave us a hot toddy. I was seven. You were four.’

  ‘And I let that arsehole look after my hens. Not like I had a choice. They’re not even mine. They’re my ex’s but he moved to Glasgow. I barely get any eggs out of them, but I can’t just let them go. I’m going to have to let Keith go.’ Murray cried into his hands.

  It broke Hunter’s heart to see him like that. He could get hammered with him, save him from fights, but he couldn’t fix him. ‘I’ll help you get better, bro.’

  Back Matter

  Afterword

  I hope you enjoyed that…

  I didn’t!

  It was supposed to be something short and punchy, but in the end it took me about three or four times as long as anything else I’ve done recently. Ugh. But I got there in the end, and I’m pleased with the result if
not the process to get there.

  The idea for this was to take my rubbish vampire book (the vampires weren’t rubbish, the books were, and actually it’s maybe more the sales that were bad than the writing) and turn it into a police thriller so I didn’t think about it anymore. Well, that didn’t exactly work. The location is vaguely similar, though the far north is desolate compared to the lush surroundings of the Black Isle just north of Inverness, an area I’ve come to know and love over the last few years. I highly recommend a trip there, just don’t buy any drugs in pubs.

  Thanks for dev editing help go to Russel D McLean, Allan Guthrie, John Rickards and, as always, Kitty. Thanks to John Rickards for the copy edit and Eleanor Abraham for the proof read.

  One final note, if you could find time to leave a review where you bought this, I'd really appreciate it — reviews really help indie authors like myself.

  -- Ed James

  Scottish Borders, October 2019

  Other Books By Ed James

  DI FENCHURCH SERIES

  THE HOPE THAT KILLS

  WORTH KILLING FOR

  WHAT DOESN’T KILL YOU

  IN FOR THE KILL

  KILL WITH KINDNESS

  KILL THE MESSENGER

  SCOTT CULLEN SERIES

  GHOST IN THE MACHINE

  DEVIL IN THE DETAIL

  FIRE IN THE BLOOD

  STAB IN THE DARK

  COPS & ROBBERS

  LIARS & THIEVES

  COWBOYS & INDIANS

  HEROES & VILLAINS

  CRAIG HUNTER SERIES

  MISSING

  HUNTED

  THE BLACK ISLE

  DS VICKY DODDS

  TOOTH & CLAW

  SUPERNATURE