Fatal Transaction: A DCI MacBain Scottish Crime Thriller

by Oliver Davies

  I blocked a hook again, and to mix things up, I drove a knee forward, popping up on the ball of my foot to give myself a little extra torque, and I nailed her right in the solar plexus, her breath leaving her in a rush. She held a hand up to ward me off as she staggered back, her feet bringing her perilously close to the fight going on behind her as she almost tripped up O’Connor, but he managed to jump out of her way, and then Carmichael slipped past him and away from Fletcher, turning his attention on me with rage in his eyes.

  His arrival gave Dune time to recover as he lashed out at me with one boot, but I deflected it as I swept to the side, immediately snapping a kick up at his chest. Carmichael somehow caught my leg, though he grunted at the impact as he did so, leaving me hopping awkwardly on one foot and wondering what the hell he was about to do with this.

  Carmichael stepped in and twisted, forcing me to the ground on my back while he remained bent over but standing above me. At least, he was until I reached up, seized a fistful of his shirt, and yanked him down on top of me. His elbow ploughed right into my stomach, but I ignored the pain, grappling with him as each of us tried to gain the upper hand. Dune hovered above us, trying to figure out how she could help until Fletcher threw O’Connor into her, and she had to focus on other things.

  Carmichael kept trying to get at my throat to choke me out. When his face came a little too close, I bucked and drove my forehead right into his nose. I heard it break with a satisfying crunch, and his blood splattered my skin as he reared back. As soon as there was enough space between us, I punched him in the stomach, gripped his jacket and flung him off me, rolling with him in an attempt to get on top of him. But Carmichael forced himself to keep rolling until he was out from under me, leaving drops of blood behind him, and when I realised my ploy wasn’t going to work, I surged to my feet instead, not wanting to get caught on the ground again.

  Of course, the moment before I reached my full height, a heavy weight landed on my back, and arms encircled my neck, clamping down in a tight but not entirely effective attempt to choke me out, and O’Connor’s breath rasped loudly in my ear.

  While I was distracted, Carmichael found his feet, swiping a hand under his nose to clear some of the blood away. I dug my fingernails into the arm around my neck as Carmichael stalked toward me, but it was clad in a denim jacket, and my attack had no effect. Carmichael drew one fist back, his intent to bury it in my stomach clear in his eyes, but I dug my heels into the stone and stumbled back, taking O’Connor with me. We were right within the mouth of the alley, so I didn’t have far to go until I smacked right into the wall, crushing O’Connor beneath me as I pushed into it as hard as I could. He stopped trying to choke me and started clawing at my face instead, and I closed one eye as his fingers scratched just a little bit too close to it for comfort.

  Carmichael was still coming at me as I pressed O’Connor into the wall, his hand raised for a punch, although this time, he appeared to be aiming at my head and not my stomach. I ducked right as he threw it, and O’Connor’s hold on my throat was loose enough that I was able to tear free, and Carmichael’s fist flew right over my head and into O’Connor’s as I dropped the rest of the way to the ground and rolled away.

  O’Connor cried out in pain and as I popped back to my feet and spun around to face him, I saw him flop to the cobblestones, clutching his face. Carmichael shook out his hand as he turned away from O’Connor, rage wrote plainly on his face.

  I expected him to come right at me, but instead, he paused for half a second, and his eyes darted around the scene. O’Connor was on the ground, clutching his face in both hands. Fletcher was sitting on top of Dune, zip-tying her hands behind her back, and there was a scuff on the cobblestones behind me, announcing Dunnel’s arrival to the party. Carmichael’s expression contorted with anger as the gears turned in his mind, and then he stuffed one hand into his pocket. I jumped at him, determined to stop whatever his plan was, but he flung some kind of powder at my face, and I had to skid to a stop and throw my hands in front of my eyes, mouth pressed tightly shut so I wouldn’t inhale it.

  His footsteps retreated down the alley as I coughed, that powder going up my nose despite my best efforts, and I moved away from the cloud before I opened my eyes, my forearms coated in white.

  “Go after him!” Dunnel yelled at me. “I’ve got these two.”

  Fletcher rolled off Dune at Dunnel’s words, gaining her feet as I rushed toward her. We didn’t even pause to think as we raced after Carmichael once again. He had a smaller lead on us this time, and his nose would be paining him, so hopefully, he’d be moving slower. I panted as I ran, my legs protesting that I was making them do so much work so soon after the last time, but I gritted my teeth and ignored the ache.

  “Plan?” Fletcher huffed out.

  “Get him.”

  Fletcher grinned at my answer, and we ran faster, our trainers slapping against the cobblestones.

  Carmichael slipped to the right, out of the alley, which opened up into a small, grassy park, every blade of grass-stained silver and grey by the moonlight. The earth was soft beneath my feet, and I slipped slightly on the damp grass, catching my balance half a second later and finding new footing as Carmichael continued to barrel on up ahead. We weren’t far from the River Ness, I realised, and Carmichael seemed to be aiming toward one of the bridges across it, although I didn’t know what he hoped to do there.

  The three of us left the park without gaining or losing any ground, and I scowled at Carmichael’s back in concentration. We had to do something to close the gap. We couldn’t simply bank on the hope that he would tire first since he seemed to have amazing cardio and stamina. Thank God Fletcher had dragged me onto the treadmill all those times.

  What did I have in my pockets? Anything I could throw properly? We were close enough that if my aim was very good, I could probably hit him. My options were either my phone or the PAVA canister, and I didn’t really fancy breaking my phone today, so I tugged the canister out of my pocket, struggling to keep up the pace as I did so. Fletcher saw what I was doing and took a couple of steps to the side to give me room. Just as I was ready to throw, we hit another road, and Carmichael sprinted across it, causing a car to screech to a halt. The bright lights threw him off his stride as he leapt to the side, but he caught himself quickly and started running again, though not before my legs had eaten up a few of the remaining feet between us.

  I stuck out a hand to tell the car to wait as Fletcher and I ran across the street, coming up on the bank of the River Ness. Carmichael cut to the side, losing more of the distance between us, and I reared back, slowing my pace even as I continued to move forward, then flung the PAVA canister right at his head.

  It wasn’t the best projectile, and it soared through the air rather awkwardly, turning end over end and losing speed each time. But my aim was true, and the throw was good, and the canister struck Carmichael right in the head. It probably didn’t hurt that badly. The canister wasn’t all that heavy, after all, but the surprise of a sudden impact caused Carmichael to cry out and stumble, his arms windmilling in an effort to hold his balance.

  Two seconds later, I was right there, and I tackled him around the waist from an angle, pushing us away from the street and onto the short slope leading down to the river bank. Carmichael lost his balance first, and I was unable to stop us from pitching to the ground in just the wrong way so that we tumbled down the hill, tangled up arm in arm and leg in leg with each other. Carmichael’s skull bounced off mine, sending a brief spurt of starbursts across my vision, but I kept a firm hold on him as we continued to roll, grass and small sticks whipping across my face.

  I had no idea how much bank we would have between the river’s edge and the end of the hill, and the world was flipping over too fast for me to make anything out. I let go of Carmichael, but still couldn’t free myself from him as we barrelled toward the River Ness and its swift current. I thought I heard Fletcher call my name, but I couldn’t be sure with the wind th
rumming in my ears.

  Mercifully, Carmichael and I began to slow as the ground levelled out, and then our limbs slowly untangled, and we rolled away from each other. I caught sight of dark water rapidly approaching me, and I tried to find any way to dig my hands or feet into the soft ground and stop myself, slowing bit by bit.

  My foot dipped into the water, and for one terrifying moment, I thought I was going to roll all the way into the current, but my momentum was spent, and I settled to a stop just at the river’s edge. I dug my hands into the wet earth as I panted, my vision still spinning slightly from my tumble, but I pushed myself upright anyway, taking another half step back into the water before I remembered where I was and pulled myself free.

  Carmichael had been spared getting wet, and he was upright as well, the moonlight turning the blood on his upper lip black. He sneered at me, his stance slightly hunched as his shoulders heaved and he fought for breath. Fletcher, who’d been running down the hill after us, skidded to a stop near me, a few bits of dirt and grass flying up from her feet.

  “It’s over, Carmichael,” I huffed as Fletcher and I began to move so we’d be boxing him against the river. “You’ve got nowhere else to go. We’ve got your friends in custody. Don’t make this any harder for yourself by continuing to fight.”

  “Why? Are you getting tired?” Carmichael snarled.

  “Me? No, I could go all night,” I said with a nonchalant shrug. “But you’re looking a little tuckered. I’m concerned about your health, is all.”

  “Touching,” Carmichael said. “I’m going to have to decline your kind offer, though. I can’t say I fancy life in a cell.”

  “That’s how this is going to end either way,” I warned him. “But maybe you’d get less time in that cell if you come with us now.”

  Carmichael snorted derisively. “I doubt that.”

  Fletcher and I had him hemmed in by the river’s edge. His feet stopped just shy of the water, and he expelled a slow breath as he shifted his stance, the dark of the night preventing me from reading his intentions in his eyes. I certainly hoped he wasn’t thinking about diving into the river. The current looked far too fast to safely navigate, and I really didn’t want to follow him into the cold waters.

  Luckily, he chose to leap in our direction instead, seeking to surprise us with his sudden burst of movement and push through the gap between us. But Fletcher and I moved closer together to block him, our shoulders nearly touching, and he had to check his forward momentum or risk smacking right into our clutches. He was barely able to twist back, and Fletcher and I hopped forward to press the advantage while he was still finding his feet.

  I fired a jab at his face to make him flinch and followed it up with a fast right cross, but Carmichael rolled his shoulder out of the way, my fist barely missing his face. In that position, he was loaded up for a cross, but before he could let loose, Fletcher’s foot was flying at his face, her range of motion as impressive as always. Carmichael jumped back rather than trying to block or deflect the kick, and Fletcher re-chambered her leg and brought it down in front of her in one smooth motion without losing a single speck of balance.

  Carmichael snarled and tried to put some distance between him and us, but Fletcher and I followed him step by step, waiting for another opening. His foot caught on a stick, and he wobbled for a second, his eyes widening. Fletcher kicked out his knee, and as he fell toward the ground, I rammed a fist into his face, bruising my knuckles on his cheek bone. He caught himself with both hands and tried to turn his momentum into a roll, but he didn’t quite have the angle or the speed for it, and he wound up on his back, chest heaving as he stared up at the sky.

  I reached for the front of his jacket to haul him to his feet, but he flipped to the side just before I could grab him, his hands and knees under him so he could drive himself upright, but my trainer nailed him in the stomach, and he collapsed back to the ground with an explosion of escaped breath.

  “Callum,” Fletcher called from behind me, and as I turned toward her, she tossed her own PAVA canister to me since I was far closer to Carmichael than she was. I snatched it out of the air and uncapped it as I spun back toward Carmichael, who had just pushed himself up onto his knees, one arm wrapped around his midsection. I pointed the nozzle right at his face, towering over him with my feet planted wide.

  “Move, and I will blast you with this,” I threatened. “And it will not be fun for you.”

  Carmichael stared at the canister and then at me and licked his lips as he struggled to catch his breath. Fletcher moved up to my shoulder and stood there with her arms crossed, her stance ready for any surprise move he might pull.

  “Cuff him, would you?” I said to her when Carmichael didn’t move or speak.

  Fletcher obligingly pulled a zip tie from her pocket and stepped around to Carmichael’s back, grabbing his wrists to drag them behind them and secure them with the strip of plastic. I stared into his face and kept the nozzle trained on him while she worked to make sure he didn’t get any clever ideas. But he kept still and let her bind him, although his eyes didn’t leave mine, and I definitely saw murder in them.

  Fletcher gripped his bicep and hauled him upright, and he came up willingly enough, his shoulders tense and tight, thrown back as if to save the last little bit of his pride, his gaze purposefully slipping over my shoulder like he was trying to pretend I didn’t exist. He was perfectly welcome to pretend like this wasn’t happening, like he was in control of the situation. It was all the same to me.

  “I’ll call us a lift,” I said and got out my phone to do just that.

  Twenty

  Dunnel and Reid arrived five minutes after I called them, since we hadn’t gone too far from the alley we’d left Dunnel in. They pulled up in two police cars, one with O’Connor and Dune in the back, and Dunnel climbed out of his vehicle to meet us at the top of the river bank. I’d retrieved my thrown PAVA canister while we waited, sticking it into my pocket and returning Fletcher’s to her.

  “Good work,” he said as his eyes took in Carmichael’s restrained form.

  “This one certainly gave us a run for our money,” I said as I prodded Carmichael in the back, urging him toward the cars holding his friends. Reid got out to open the back door, shooing O’Connor into the middle seat so I could stuff Carmichael in beside him.

  “Do you mind taking these three back to the station?” I asked her. “We can let them stew in the holding cells overnight. That might loosen their tongues up some in the morning. Fletcher and I should go back to the concert and make sure our dates are alright, make sure there are no loose ends.”

  And I wanted to see if I could get hold of Lena before she disappeared again.

  “Yes, we need to find MacGowan,” Dunnel said, fixing me with a steely, slightly annoyed look. “Whom you conveniently left behind when you ran after Carmichael.”

  “What was I supposed to do?” I wondered. “Take the time to cuff Alec to the table and let our actual targets get away?”

  Dunnel sucked in a short breath and opened his mouth, but quickly stalled out with nothing to say to that.

  “Elker’s still at the theatre, right?” I asked. “He’s probably watching Alec.”

  Though I really hoped the thief had managed to slip away in the confusion. He seemed to be very good at that, and I crossed my fingers that skill hadn’t abandoned him tonight.

  “I’ll drive,” Dunnel said. “Get in.”

  I took the front seat while Dunnel opened the back door for Fletcher, and we let Reid pull away first, carting her little cadre of criminals back to the police station. Dunnel didn’t say anything as we started driving toward the theatre, and I shifted in my seat, wondering if there was something I should say to him. I knew he was going to be royally pissed if we got back to the concert and Alec was gone, but I also wasn’t about to reassure him that it wouldn’t be the case. So I kept my mouth shut and stared out of the window, exhaustion settling over my aching bones and muscles. Tomorrow was
going to be super fun.

  All the spots in the theatres’ car park were full when we arrived, so Dunnel found us a place across the street, slotting us in somewhere that definitely wasn’t large enough for our car, though he managed to fit us into it in one smooth motion.

  I checked the time as I got out. The concert had been only going on for an hour, which meant that Lena should still be in there, assuming I could stick around long enough to catch her after the show.

  Dunnel, Fletcher, and I hurried across the street and up the stairs to the front entrance. They were no longer checking tickets at the doors, so we walked right into the small concert hall and immediately began to look around for our people. It was intermission, so the place was quieter than it had been before but for the music being piped through the speakers and the hum of many conversations. I clocked Rayla sitting in a velvet chair, scrolling through her phone, and Elker stood beside the booth Alec had occupied, though he appeared to be gone. Relief sagged my shoulders for half a second before I pulled them straight again, making sure Dunnel hadn’t noticed the lapse.

  The three of us started toward Elker, and Rayla looked up as we passed, her eyes drawn by our movement. I waved at her as I went by and held up a finger to ask her to wait, since I still had one last thing to do before I could check in with her. She nodded and went back to her phone, one knee crossed over the other as her top foot bounced.

  “Where is he?” Dunnel demanded as soon as we stood beside Elker.

  Elker swallowed, his expression nervous. “Um, he left. Sir.”

  “And where did he go?” Dunnel asked, his voice scarily calm.

  Elker’s throat bobbed again. “I didn’t see. By the time I got back here to check on him, he was gone. He must have run the moment we all took off after Carmichael.”