by Ed James
Reaching over, he switched the radio off and his light on. He looked at the mound of duvet next to him. "How are you feeling?"
"Worse hangover I've ever had," said Sharon, her voice muffled.
"It was pretty stupid," said Cullen.
"Don't need to tell me."
"And I thought I had the monopoly on stupidity in this relationship."
Sharon came up for air. "I wish you did."
He looked over at her, eyes scrunched up as she faced into his light. "Did you mean what you said last night?"
"What?"
"You said you didn't want the baby," said Cullen. "You're not ready for it."
She opened her eyes and pushed herself up onto her elbow. "I was pissed. I didn't mean it."
"I'm worried about you," said Cullen. "It's not just about the baby, either, it's you. You can really fuck your body up doing something like that."
"I'm sorry," said Sharon. "I don't know what to say."
"Just tell me you'll not do it again."
Sharon nodded. "I won't. I was at a low ebb. I couldn't get hold of you. Mum was out at the cinema and I can't speak to Dad about this sort of thing. Chantal was on a case, staking someone out."
"Okay," said Cullen. "I'm sorry I had my phone off."
"I forgive you."
"Maybe in time I'll forgive you." Cullen laughed. "That's a joke, by the way."
"Everything is with you," said Sharon.
Cullen pulled himself up, sneezing four times in quick succession.
"Are you okay?" said Sharon.
"I'll be fine. I have to go in."
"I'm as worried about you as you are about me," said Sharon.
Cullen smiled. "What a pair we are. What are you going to do?"
"Well, I'm not going into work. I think I'll savour my last hangover for the next seven months. I've got to go the doctor later anyway."
Cullen feared it was for an abortion. "What for?"
"My check-up," said Sharon. "Just to confirm I am actually pregnant."
Cullen nodded, relieved the decision was still in their hands. "Do you want me to come?"
She smiled. "No. But it's nice of you to ask."
Cullen leaned over and kissed her. "I'd better go. I love you."
"I love you, too."
He went into his bedside drawer and got out fresh underwear. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Fluffy climb into his side of the bed. "That's my role filled."
"He'll keep it warm until you're back," said Sharon.
Cullen left the room, heading for the bathroom and the white noise of the shower cubicle.
"You've left your light on!"
CHAPTER 102
Cullen trudged up the stairs, late for the briefing, unable to get his legs moving.
What a mess.
The case and his job were screwing with his head. He'd found the killer but then they'd lost him and he just knew he'd get fingered with the blame. McCrea and Bain were the only other officers at the scene and he knew he couldn't trust them not to drop him in the shit.
His car was fucked, an expense he didn't need. The prospect of an afternoon in Seafield looking for a replacement didn't fill him with joy.
But, despite all the other shit, Sharon was front and centre in his thoughts. What was she doing? She was carrying their baby. He told her he wanted it, there and then. It just blurted out.
Did he?
He was less certain in the cold light of day, but he'd stopped feeling the knot in the pit of his stomach every time he thought about becoming a father.
He walked into the Incident Room and stood at the back, sipping at the coffee he'd bought on the walk down.
Methven clocked him as soon as he entered. So much for being in at six. Cullen just knew he'd be in the bad books already.
"In summary, then," said Cargill, "we've got no concrete leads on the whereabouts of Roberts and neither do our colleagues in Glasgow South. Roberts has gone to ground, most likely in Edinburgh. We've got his parents' house in Linlithgow under surveillance, along with known acquaintances. There was a press release last night, which has been picked up by both print and broadcast. Please report to DS Holdsworth for actions. Dismissed."
As the officers filed past him into the corridor, Cullen couldn't face speaking to Holdsworth, having done well to avoid him on the case so far.
Cargill and Methven made a beeline for him.
"Constable." Methven checked his watch. "Good morning."
"Sorry I'm late, sir," said Cullen. "Had an emergency at home."
"Oh?" said Methven. "I take it everything is okay?"
Cullen nodded. "Nothing to worry about, sir." He nodded at Cargill. "DS McNeill won't be in today, ma'am."
Cargill smiled. "I hope she's okay."
"She'll live," said Cullen.
Cargill smoothed down her hair. "We've got to head back to Tulliallan, I'm afraid."
"What for?" said Cullen.
"Status report to DCS Soutar," said Cargill.
"Is it appropriate for a DC to be at that sort of meeting?" said Cullen.
"Normally I'd agree, but your presence has been requested."
CHAPTER 103
They were in the same Tulliallan room as the previous day. Cullen, Cargill and Methven were on the Edinburgh side, Bain, McCrea and Graham on the Glasgow, with Soutar in the centre. Two officers Cullen didn't recognise sat either side of her.
Cullen couldn't help but think the meeting was a colossal waste of resource - McCrea and he were definitely in the operational space and their absence might slow things down in the way Bain's or Methven's wouldn't.
"Turnbull sends his apologies," said Cargill.
Soutar pouted. "So I gather." She looked around the room. "Thank you for your presence this morning." She clasped her hands on the desk in front of her. "I know you've all come from your local briefings, but I would appreciate an update on where we are. DI Bain, can you provide the Glasgow South MIT status, please?"
Bain gave the Glasgow update. They were absolutely nowhere. They had very little to go on, the case having moved east. The rest of Expect Delays were under surveillance, including assorted hangers-on like the manager and guitar tech. Mobile phones were being traced and emails hacked.
"We've got resource to spare," said Bain.
Cullen recognised the ploy - they could keep a tight hold of the investigation, such as it was. No doubt the liberated resources would be Bain, McCrea and other senior detectives.
"Thanks." Soutar turned her attentions to the other side of the table. "And from Edinburgh?"
Methven repeated the update Cargill gave earlier.
"Why haven't you found him?" said Bain.
"It's incredibly difficult to execute a manhunt in a city the size of Edinburgh," said Cargill. "I'm sure you can recall from your period spent assisting our investigations?"
Bain snorted. "I'd have torn Murrayfield and Corstorphine apart looking for this boy. And the city centre is full of CCTV."
"It takes time." Methven's eyes blinked. "We've dedicated three officers to sifting through hours of CCTV footage."
Bain nodded at Cullen. "I hope Sundance isn't one of them."
"Do I need to point out you've had Roberts in custody twice and let him go both times?" said Methven.
Bain raised his eyebrows. "DC Cullen was there. He didn't say anything the last time."
"You buckled to pressure," said Cullen. "The record company sneezed and you made sure he was released in time for the concert."
"I did nothing of the sort," said Bain.
"Brian," said Cargill, "you were operating under the apprehension this was a drugs murder. It took one of my DCs to prove you wrong."
Bain looked at Cullen, raising his shoulders. "DC Cullen has a habit of keeping information to himself. He reported to me for over eighteen months. I know how his mind works."
"Did you hold any information back?" said Soutar, eyes locked on Cullen.
Cullen tried to pull o
ut of the tractor beam. "I investigated a lead, that's true. It led us to Roberts."
"So, your work identified the killer?" said Soutar.
Cullen shrugged. "Just doing my job, ma'am."
He couldn't believe he'd used such a cliché. What he wanted to say was 'yes'.
"DI Bain," said Soutar. "Is this true?"
"Maybe."
Soutar shook her head. "We sat in here on Wednesday. I gave you clear instructions that Glasgow South MIT were to head up the investigation. I've seen very little collaboration." She started counting on her fingers. "What I have seen is the theft of an officer's car, another officer's car being written off and, to cap it all off, a double murder suspect escaping arrest."
She looked around the room. One of the two guests scribbled on a notepad.
"This is not acceptable," said Soutar. "I've asked the respective MIT Superintendents to lead this investigation but I haven't seen much progress or indeed any collaboration whatsoever."
"With all due respect," said Graham, "it's not easy managing a case across two cities."
"So I can see," said Soutar. "The pair of you have simply not bothered."
"Carolyn," said Cargill. "I don't think this is as bad as it appears. Detective Superintendents Graham and Turnbull are trying to put in place a number of initiatives to bring Mr Roberts to justice."
"A number of initiatives sounds like bland management speak to me, Alison," said Soutar. "Initiatives take a long time to bed in. What we need is strong, affirmative action. I insisted on twice-daily conference calls."
"You did," said Graham.
"Well?" said Soutar.
"Well what?" said Graham.
"Can I see the minutes of these calls?" said Soutar.
"Superintendent Turnbull's team was running with that."
"We would have produced minutes had the calls actually taken place," said Cargill.
Graham got to his feet and pointed at her. "Are you calling me a liar?"
Cargill leaned back in her chair. "Are you calling me a liar?"
Soutar glared at Graham. "Sit."
Graham adjusted his cufflinks then took his seat again.
"I warned you what would happen if this case was not managed to my satisfaction," said Soutar.
Cullen finally clocked what was happening - their guests were from the Met.
"I've had enough of this," said Soutar. "We're clearly not operationally ready for this sort of case. I hoped we might have had more time to establish our processes and establish a rapport across the country, but this case has clearly come too soon."
She gestured to the two others.
"I've asked Detective Superintendents Garricks and O'Keefe from the Met to come in and supervise this. Both have years of experience co-ordinating sizeable investigations across Greater London, a task equivalent to the undertaking we have."
"Dealing with crime in London and in Scotland are very different things," said Graham. "You're comparing apples and oranges."
"They're also very similar things," said Soutar. "There are core behaviours not being adhered to here. Having a single command centre, for instance." She tapped her nails on the desk for a few seconds. "Given the events of the last few days, our southern colleagues will be in operational command of this case and will be occupying office space in Leith Walk. All officers of Detective Superintendent grade and below will report to them. I want to be kept updated on an hourly basis. I want Roberts in a cell by dinner tonight. Am I making myself clear?"
Cullen looked around the room, watching heads nod. He couldn't see anything good coming from this. Instead of playing games against each other, the Edinburgh and Glasgow troops would be at it with the Londoners who would, of course, have their own agenda - showing these stupid Jocks how to run a murder case, for starters.
"Anything else?" said Soutar.
Nothing.
CHAPTER 104
Back at Leith Walk, Cargill gave a briefing.
There was a general air of demoralisation in the room as though they'd lost. London was in charge now. How could Scotland run its own country if it couldn't run its own police force? How could it run a police force if it couldn't run a murder case?
Garricks and O'Keefe spent much of the briefing picking Cargill up on minutiae and points of pedantry. Cullen didn't have the greatest amount of admiration for her, but seeing her get torn into by her superiors with no backup from her own Detective Superintendent, certainly made Cullen sympathise.
There was a trainload of Met officers on its way up. The London detectives were taking people aside for two-on-one interviews, starting from the top. Cullen figured he'd have a long wait until he was called in, so he typed up his notes, desperately trying to keep on top of active leads. Everything was stuck in neutral.
Bain and McCrea wandered into the Incident Room, grinning like kids who'd ingratiated themselves with the playground bullies. Cullen kept his head down.
"Just had our session with the Met boys," said McCrea.
Cullen leaned back in his seat. "Trying to get a whole IQ measure out of the pair of you, were they?"
"Very good," said Bain. "Still a funny little fucker, aren't you, Sundance?"
Cullen shrugged. "You walked right into that one."
Bain smiled. "They're putting us in charge of making sure your paper trail is up to scratch."
"That doesn't sound unbiased," said Cullen. "Someone's going to get their arse handed to them and it's basically between you and Methven. Having you go over our files isn't going to be fair, is it?"
Bain shrugged and cleared his throat. "Methven's heading to our station."
Cullen nodded his head. "Divide and conquer. Get those who don't do the work playing stupid games against each other."
"What are you saying?" said Bain. "I do fuckin' work."
"Yeah, but all you've done recently is try to get back at Methven and Cargill."
Bain snarled and got up close, coffee breath making Cullen flinch. "Just remember I've got a grievance filed against you."
Cullen looked away. "That's not going to stand up, though, is it?"
"We'll see," said Bain. "If you're a good boy to me then we'll maybe cut a deal."
"We both know it didn't happen," said Cullen. "Damian here is backing you up out of loyalty. I've seen how you reward loyalty."
"Cullen, for the love of goodness..." Bain's nostrils flared. "I'm going to find a meeting room to sit in and tear your squad a new arsehole. Give me your fuckin' files."
Cullen's phone rang - Chantal Jain. He held the phone up to his ear, staring at Bain all the time. "Cullen."
"Scott, you'll love this," said Chantal.
"Go on," said Cullen.
"Beth Williamson has just gone to the practice rooms with two bags full of food, clothes and a sleeping bag."
Cullen shot to his feet. Roberts.
CHAPTER 105
Cullen stood on Niddry Street, waiting to be called into action.
Unmarked cars were parked across the entrances at the Cowgate below and the Royal Mile above. An Armed Response Unit was present though there seemed very little evidence to suggest Roberts was dangerous, if he was even inside the building. Cullen's assumption had somehow become fact.
The car parked outside the practice rooms was registered to Beth Williamson. Murray and Chantal were just behind her, pointing up the slope and boxing her in.
"We fuckin' need to get in there," said Bain.
"This isn't your investigation any more," said Methven. He'd been getting petrol in Gorgie when he received the call, immediately turning back to join in.
"Fuck you," said Bain. "Besides, he's got a fuckin' hostage now."
"You think?" said Methven.
Bain scowled. "You don't? Are you fuckin' stupid or something?"
"It's not him you need to convince." Cullen gestured up the hill at Garricks as he talked on an Airwave, his dark skin sticking out like a sore thumb in white bread Edinburgh. "Those two are in command here."
"Pricks," said Bain.
"You've changed your tune," said Cullen.
"Shut your pus," said McCrea. "It's always fucking cheek with you. Show the gaffer a bit of respect, man."
Cullen raised his eyebrows. "I'll bear that in mind. Last time we tried to arrest him there were just three officers present and he managed to get away."
"That wasn't our fault," said McCrea, his voice rising.
"No, it wasn't," said Cullen, losing the rag. "I've heard so many times about how it was my fault."
"Keep it down," said Methven. "Roberts might hear you."
Further down the hill, Chantal and Buxton stood among a larger squad, including uniformed officers. O'Keefe stood behind them, talking on an Airwave, most likely to Garricks.
Beth Williamson burst out of the door in floods of tears, a tissue clasped to her face. She slumped against her car, her body racked with sobs, no longer carrying the bags she arrived with.
O'Keefe held his hand up, signalling 'Go!'
Cullen was first there, grabbing Beth by the arms. "Keep quiet," he said, before leading her away from the car, back up the hill.
Beth's eyes bulged. "What's happening?"
"We're looking for Mike Roberts," said Cullen. "Is he down there?"
Beth avoided his gaze. "No."
"Then why the hell did you take bags down into the practice rooms?" said Cullen.
"I didn't," said Beth.
"What were you doing down there?" said Cullen.
"I left some drumsticks in the room when we moved out," said Beth. "I was just collecting them."
"I don't like being lied to," said Cullen. "One more time. Is Mike Roberts down there?"
Beth looked around at the other officers, trying for sympathy. Garricks had descended, keeping a keen ear trained on the conversation.
"Beth," said Cullen, "is Mike Roberts down there?"
She burst into tears again. "Yes."
"Is he armed?" said Cullen.
"I don't know."
"Where is he?"
"Downstairs, I think," said Beth. "He met me on the stairs just by where our room was."
Garricks intervened, pointing to a DC who was shadowing him. "Right, get her processed."