Cowboys and Indians Read Free

Colin?’
    ‘You’re trying my patience, Sharon .’
    ‘I’ve got to conduct another dozen interviews like that. That eats up resource.’
    ‘If you arrest him, you can investigate his flat. That’s your most likely source of evidence.’
    ‘I’m aware of how to do my job, Colin . I’m just not arresting him yet.’
    ‘You’ve got insufficient evidence. He was hitting on men in a nightclub. It’s not a crime.’
    ‘He’s not likely to stash Rohypnol in his house. His wife might find it.’ Sharon crossed her arms. ‘This is nothing to do with you being mates with Mr McLintock, is it?’
    ‘Excuse me?’
    ‘He always seems to know what’s going on here.’
    ‘I’d suggest keeping that to yourself in future.’
    Sharon held up her phone, the screen flashing up. ‘His wife’s just arrived, so I’ll bid you adieu.’ She tugged the glass door shut behind her, the mechanism clattering as she stormed across the empty office space.
    Methven glared at Cullen. ‘Sergeant, I need you to extricate yourself from this case.’
    ‘Excuse me?’
    ‘I’ve had strong reservations about seconding you to an investigation your — I hesitate to say “better” half — an investigation your other half’s running.’
    Cullen sat forward, the chair creaking. He sucked in air reeking of whiteboard pen and Methven’s deodorant. ‘I trust you to manage me in the correct way, sir.’
    ‘And I do. Supporting a task force with our present resource shortage is a tall order. Luckily, we’ve suffered no detrimental effect to our own work stack. I’ll be reallocating you on Monday morning.’
    ‘Looking forward to it.’ Cullen got up and left the room, shutting the door. He trudged across the office, passing an army of locked computers all showing the Police Scotland screensaver.
    The door to the Ladies screeched open. Sharon emerged from inside, scowling at it. ‘Someone needs to get that fixed.’
    Cullen shrugged. ‘I suspect a can of WD40’ll break the budget.’
    ‘True.’ She chuckled as she looked back at the meeting room. ‘How’d it go with Crystal?’
    ‘Thanks for leaving me with him.’
    ‘He’s your boss. I just used him to borrow you.’
    ‘Well, I think you’ve lost me and the other two. Better hope Graham’s your guy.’
    ‘Brilliant.’ She dabbed her eyebrow and winced again. ‘You heading home?’
    ‘I’m meeting Buxton for a pint.’
    ‘Scott …’
    ‘It’ll be a soft drink, don’t worry. I’ll head after that.’

Three

    Cullen scanned around the newly refurbished Elm. Oak panelling, subtle spotlights and granite surfaces, craft beer taps lining the wall behind the bar. The serving hatch flopped down and a man with a thick beard passed a burger on a wooden chopping board to the barman. A pair of students sat at the piano, playing some Cockney music hall numbers.
    Buxton was fiddling with his phone at the table by the window, a half-full glass of beer fizzing in front of him. He waved at Cullen and joined him at the bar, clutching his glass. ‘Evening, squire.’
    ‘Pint?’
    ‘Caesar Augustus, cheers.’ Buxton took a long drink. ‘You having one?’
    ‘Wish I was, mate.’ Cullen stared at the taps behind the bar and focused on the barman. ‘Is the ginger beer alcohol-free?’
    ‘Brewed it myself. It’s all about the sugar.’
    ‘Ginger beer and a pint of Caesar, then.’
    The barman nodded and started pouring, facing away from them.
    ‘What’s that, five months now?’ Buxton took a sip. ‘It’s not like you were an alcoholic, though, is it?’
    Cullen avoided eye contact, instead waving a hand at the piano. ‘That’s your sort of music, isn’t it?’
    ‘Takes me back to Lambeth, me old China.’ Buxton finished his pint and set the glass on the bar. ‘Your doctor didn’t tell you to stop?’
    ‘Sharon did.’
    ‘How does it feel?’
    ‘Odd. The weirdest thing is, I miss that … presentness, if that’s a word. Being in the moment. My head’s so full of