Bottleneck

by Ed James

  Cullen laughed.

  "How's she doing?" said Guthrie.

  "Well," said Cullen. "She's in line for a DI position."

  "How does that make you feel?"

  "I've been an ADS," said Cullen, "so I'm not jealous or anything."

  "I heard you got demoted."

  Cullen almost spat beer on the table. "How the fuck did you find that out?"

  "There was a national announcement came out on the email this afternoon. After our wee chat earlier, I had to look. If you'd been working instead of arsing about in Dundee, you might have seen it."

  "Must have been busy," said Cullen.

  "How do you feel?"

  "Fucked off, to be brutally honest," said Cullen.

  "What are you going to do?"

  Cullen took his pint past the halfway mark. "The way I see it, I've got to stop giving a fuck. Sharon can earn the money. She's going to be a DI, I'm happy to bide my time, keep things steady."

  Guthrie grinned. "Proper little house husband."

  "Something like that," said Cullen. "Enough about me, though. How's your love life?"

  "It's on a ventilator, put it that way," said Guthrie. "I can feel my virginity growing back."

  "That's my line," said Cullen.

  "It's not like you've copyrighted it, though, is it?" said Guthrie. "I don't mind being single. Saves on arguments and stuff. See enough of that in the job."

  "And your job prospects?"

  "I'm happy as a DC," said Guthrie. "I'm doing a proper job, solving crimes, helping people. If I got promoted, I'd be managing half of Angus. I'd be like a supermarket area manager or something. I get paid the same as you and it's cheap as chips to live up here."

  "Aye, Edinburgh's not cheap."

  There was an explosion of sound from the football crowd as a penalty was awarded and a red card shown to the Newcastle goalkeeper.

  "You still keep in touch with the other Richard?" said Guthrie.

  "Mr McAlpine is very well. He moved back to Edinburgh last year. We were sharing a flat for a bit."

  "Is he still doing all that gay shit?" said Guthrie.

  "Fuck's sake, Goth, he's gay. Get over it."

  "Hang on, you asked if I was still doing all that goth shit," said Guthrie. "That's a hate crime now."

  "Fuck off it is," said Cullen.

  Guthrie shook his head. "Still don't like it."

  Cullen laughed. "I can see why you never left Dal."

  "Why would you want to?" said Guthrie.

  "Why indeed."

  The front door opened and three men walked in. Cullen recognised them immediately, total wankers from their year at school. Matt MacLeod, Alan Thomson and Gregor Smith, all looking three sheets to the wind.

  Guthrie looked round. "It's those arseholes."

  "I've not seen them since I was at uni," said Cullen.

  "They've got worse," said Guthrie. "MacLeod lives down your way now."

  "Edinburgh?"

  Guthrie nodded. "Still a wanker."

  Even though there were plenty of empty tables, they sat down next to Cullen and Guthrie.

  "Look who the cat dragged in," said MacLeod. "The big city boy is back in town."

  "You live in Edinburgh, too," said Cullen.

  "Aye, and I make a fucking load more cash than you do, you cunt," said MacLeod, stabbing a finger at Cullen. "You're a pig as well, aren't you, Skinky?"

  "Whatever," said Cullen.

  "Oink!"

  Thomson and Smith started making pig noises.

  Cullen got his warrant card out. "We can make this official."

  MacLeod held his hands up like he was raising a handbag. "You not brought your boyfriend with you, Cullen?"

  "What are you talking about?"

  "Rich McAlpine," said MacLeod. "Someone told me you were living with him. Must be nice."

  "I see you're still a total wanker, Matt."

  "That the best you've got?" said MacLeod. He burped. "How's your sister, by the way?"

  Cullen sunk the rest of his pint. "Come on, Goth, there are plenty of other pubs in this town."

  CHAPTER 57

  "Still the best bag of chips in Scotland," said Cullen, munching noisily.

  They were outside the chip shop on Church Street, leaning against the window as the staff closed up.

  Guthrie tapped his belly. "That's why I'll never make a DS."

  "One of many reasons."

  "Ha ha," said Guthrie, his voice devoid of humour.

  Cullen balled up his bag, feeling woozy from the beer and wine. "Can't believe we saw those pricks earlier."

  "Thomson and Smith still live here," said Guthrie. "I've sorted them out a few times over the years, usually when the pool league gets a bit rowdy."

  "What about MacLeod?"

  "No idea," said Guthrie. "I've not seen him for years. Just knew he lived in Edinburgh. He did a bit of damage a few years back, walking on cars and shit, had to arrest and charge him. He dropped off the radar after that."

  "Twat."

  "Aye."

  Cullen finished his bottle of Irn Bru then walked over to chuck it in the bin.

  "Scott Cullen!"

  Cullen turned around. The mad woman from the other night was pointing at him.

  "You big fucking bully!"

  Cullen's shoulders slumped. Here we go again.

  She marched up to Cullen and started shouting at him again. "You bullied me!"

  Guthrie got between them. "I'm warning you. Clear off or it's a night in the cells for you."

  Her eyes danced between them, before she eventually walked off the way she'd come, glaring at Cullen as she went.

  Cullen watched her enter a stairwell just down the road. "That's second time she's done that in the last week. I've no idea who she is or what I've done to her."

  "She was in our year," said Guthrie.

  "Still don't remember her."

  "You sat next to her in French."

  Cullen frowned, trying to mentally overlay the fat face of the adult onto the thinner one of the girl. "She's put on a lot of weight, then."

  "Haven't we all?"

  "What's all that bullying shit?" said Cullen.

  "Beats me. You were a bit of a wanker at times."

  "Why do I keep on bumping into her?" said Cullen. "Last time was just up the road at the Italian."

  "She lives on this street," said Guthrie. "Maybe something to do with you investigating her brother's murder."

  "What?"

  Guthrie pointed a chip after her. "Audrey Strang."

  "Of all the people to bloody bump into." Cullen started off after her.

  Guthrie grabbed his shoulder, tugging him back. "What are you playing at, Skinky?"

  "I need to speak to her."

  "Not in this state."

  "I'm not pissed."

  "No, but you have had a fair few pints. Leave it till tomorrow."

  Cullen looked down at the street, breathing hard. "Right, fine."

  Guthrie balled up his own chip wrapper. "I need to get home. We'd best make an early start tomorrow. See you in the station first thing?"

  "Aye."

  Cullen was relieved there was no offer of a whisky in Guthrie's flat.

  Tuesday

  2nd April 2013

  CHAPTER 58

  Cullen jolted awake. He had no idea where he was.

  The dream of Marta Hunter again, her children's faces replaced by Matt MacLeod and his two accomplices.

  He sat up and fumbled around on the bedside table, eventually touching a lamp. He had to run his fingers down the back of the unit to find the power button.

  It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. He was back in his old room, heavily redecorated since he left twelve years ago.

  His head stung slightly from the edges of a hangover, but he'd had the foresight to put a pint of water beside the bed. He drank it then checked his watch - it was just after eight.

  He slumped back and rubbed his head. He'd nee
ded the sleep but his body was telling him he could do with another few hours. He struggled out of bed and headed downstairs.

  His parents were gone. Both would already be at work. There was a Post-It note on the kitchen table. 'Call your sister! Love, Mum.' Michelle's mobile number was underneath.

  Ignoring the note, he failed to find cartridges for their new espresso machine and settled for a mug of tea instead. He skipped breakfast, the chips still heavy in his stomach.

  The dogs wandered through, looking for affection or leftover toast - Cullen didn't know which they'd prefer. He knelt down and patted them as one of them licked his face.

  He sat at the table, reading the Angus edition of the Dundee Courier as he drank his tea. He kept seeing the Post-It, annoyed that it was him being told to call his sister.

  Michelle had been an arse to him since she went to uni in Glasgow. Why should he bother? She was a year older. She was supposed to be the grown-up one.

  Cullen shook his head and stabbed Michelle's number into his contacts, replacing the old one. It explained the lack of response the couple of times he had bothered to text.

  He called Sharon.

  "Did you have a good night?" she said.

  "Sort of."

  "I'm not even going to ask."

  Cullen laughed. "It wasn't too heavy. Just a few pints, talking about football and putting the world to rights."

  "I can well imagine."

  "How are you doing?"

  "Better," she said. "I'm over this bug, finally. I'm going to show Turnbull what's what."

  "Remember not to push yourself too hard," said Cullen.

  "Scott, I'm pregnant not disabled."

  "I know," said Cullen. "I'm just saying. As it stands, I don't think either of us wants the decision taken out of our own hands, do we?"

  "No," said Sharon, eventually. "When do you think you'll be back?"

  "So, you actually missed me last night?"

  "Of course," said Sharon, her voice sounding edgy.

  Cullen knew not to push it. "I'll see how things are here. Got a lead or two, maybe, but nothing concrete. Should be back tonight hopefully."

  "I'm looking forward to it."

  "I meant what I said last night," said Cullen. "We do need to talk."

  "I know we do."

  "Can we do it somewhere other than the flat?" said Cullen. "I don't want you getting all territorial."

  "I'm not territorial."

  "You can be," said Cullen. "Look, let's go for dinner. Neutral venue and all that."

  "Fine."

  "I love you," said Cullen. "I'm looking forward to seeing you."

  "Me too."

  Cullen ended the call, still with no idea what to do about the baby.

  CHAPTER 59

  Guthrie knocked on Audrey Patterson's door. No answer.

  Cullen leaned against the tenement wall. "We should have spoken to her last night. She's not in now."

  "We've got all day."

  "You cleared to help me, then?"

  "Aye. Got in at the back of seven and got through the last of the paperwork upstairs are chasing me for. Managed to palm last night's two burglaries off to uniform. By the looks of things, neither has anything to do with those fuckwits we bumped into last night."

  "I'll believe it when you get a conviction," said Cullen, smiling.

  "What's the plan of attack, then?"

  Cullen thumbed at the door. "We need to speak to her. It's embarrassing how little we know about him."

  "He was like that at school."

  "I don't remember him."

  "He was a pretentious little prick." Guthrie hammered the door again. "Even though he was three years younger than us he used to march around thinking he was so fucking cool."

  "How come I've forgotten him?"

  "You're just shit," said Guthrie. "It was the same with his sister and you sat next to her in French."

  "Yeah." Cullen knocked on the door, his head throbbing from lack of coffee. "Open up, Ms Patterson."

  "No!"

  It was the first time she'd responded.

  "Ms Patterson," said Cullen, "we need to speak to you about your brother."

  "I know what you're trying to do!"

  Cullen's already thin patience was stretched almost to breaking point. "What are we trying to do?"

  "You want to rape me like my husband did!"

  Cullen took a step back. "What the fuck is going on here?"

  Guthrie rubbed his neck. "Long story. Remember Dean Patterson? He was in the year above us?"

  Cullen pictured a neanderthal knuckle dragger in his sister's class. "I remember him."

  "Well, he married her," said Guthrie. "We were out here all the bloody time, domestic after domestic. Anyway, push came to shove one night. He got drunk and raped her, said it was his marital right and all that shite. We put him away for it. Not much later, her brother went missing. She's not been the same since."

  Cullen shook his head. "Christ."

  Guthrie stepped forward and hammered the door again. "Come on, Audrey. This is about your brother. Don't make us get your parents involved again."

  The door slowly opened. Audrey Patterson led them into the living room and sat on a futon. There was no other furniture, so they remained standing. The place was immaculately tidy. It was a different sparseness to the heroin addicts' flats, an active choice of minimalism rather than having sold everything to buy drugs.

  Audrey looked up at Cullen. "Are you here to say sorry, then?"

  Cullen took a long look at her, starting to recognise the young girl from his French class. "What am I apologising for?"

  "The way you treated me at school!"

  Cullen was used to people shouting at him, but knowing there was something personal and longstanding behind the anger was a lot harder to deal with than some abstract hatred for authority. "How did I treat you?"

  "You used to take the mick out of me," said Audrey. "You and your friends. Every day for two years. I had no self-esteem by the time I left school." A tear slid down her cheek. "That's why I married Dean, the first man to show me the time of day. I still shake when I hear your name, Scott Cullen. I couldn't believe I saw you on my street."

  Cullen kept a distance "Audrey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean any harm."

  "You said I smelled!"

  Embarrassment burnt its way up Cullen's neck. "Come on, I was just being childish."

  "You said it and it hurt. You used to chip away at me, you and Gareth and Linda and Melanie. Chipped away at me all the time. I felt so small and tiny."

  "I'm truly sorry, Audrey. I shouldn't have done that. I'm a police officer now. I protect people. I should have protected you back then."

  Audrey's eyes locked onto his for the first time since they'd arrived. "But you didn't."

  Cullen still couldn't remember taking the piss out of her though he vaguely recalled the other names. "I'm sorry."

  "Scott is working on your brother's murder, Audrey," said Guthrie.

  Audrey's eyes lit up and danced between them. "Jimi?"

  "Yes," said Guthrie. "The police in Edinburgh are investigating. Scott is one of the detectives."

  "Mum told me he'd been found. How can I help you?"

  Cullen decided to get straight in while the clarity and focus remained. "I want to know if there was anyone who was upset or angry with your brother at any point leading up to him going missing."

  Audrey thought about it for a few seconds. "Not really. I don't think so. I've been over it so many times in my head, you know?"

  Cullen could well imagine. "And there's nobody? What about at school?"

  Audrey gritted her teeth. "Jimi was bullied a lot by some of the boys in our year. Alan Thomson, Gregor Smith, Matt MacLeod. Those bad boys."

  Cullen exchanged a brief look with Guthrie, who merely shrugged. "What sort of thing?"

  "You know how cruel kids can be," said Audrey. "They used to beat him up and tease him for being gay."

  "
Was he?"

  Audrey laughed through the tears. "God, no. Jimi was one for the girls."

  Cullen had to be careful not to inflict his own personal opinion on the case, but Matt MacLeod and those idiots he was drinking with were starting to look like a lead. "Anyone else?"

  Audrey shook her head, her long hair dancing.

  "You've been a great help, Audrey," said Cullen. "Thanks."

  He locked eyes with her.

  "And I really am sorry for any hurt I've caused you."

  CHAPTER 60

  They sat in a cafe, Cullen's head finally starting to push into gear with his second Americano. They were squaring off their notebooks should push come to shove with anything from the interview with Audrey.

  "So, what do you think about her?" said Guthrie.

  "She could be on to something," said Cullen. "Matt MacLeod lives in Edinburgh, right?"

  "Has done for years, I think."

  "Right," said Cullen. "If he bullied the boy when they were younger, then Christ knows what could have happened in Edinburgh."

  "Killing him and leaving him down a tunnel, though?" said Guthrie.

  "I've seen some strange things in my time. I could see it. I really could."

  "It's worth a shot."

  Cullen took a sip of coffee. "I still can't remember her from school."

  "You're losing your mind, Skinky. It's hardly my fault if you can't remember people you were at school with. Maybe you've got Alzheimers?"

  "Very funny," said Cullen. "My gran had that, you know?"

  "Maybe you should get checked out?"

  "I'm just tired," said Cullen. "Not sleeping much and I'm putting myself under so much pressure just now."

  "Did you mean it when you said sorry to her?"

  Cullen rubbed his neck. "I think so. You said I was a wanker at school. I probably was. You know what that place was like, though. It was dog eat dog. If you didn't piss on the heads of the people below you then you'd get fucked over by Johnnie Gardner or Craig Wilkie or one of those guys."

  Guthrie nodded. "True. I think it's got a lot better since they moved to the new school."

  "Couldn't get any worse."

  Guthrie seemed to want to say something, but he kept quiet.

  Cullen looked across the quiet cafe, thinking they might be starting to get somewhere.