Craig Robertson - Snapshot

He thrashed more, feeling it give bit by bit, his feet easing further apart until with a final shake it was off him and his legs were free. As soon as he’d rid himself of them, he rolled onto his side and heaved up unsteadily onto his feet. The rat didn’t fancy it so much once Winter was standing and tore off under the door, easily avoiding the kick Winter swung at it.

He looked down at his bleeding knee, thinking that it wasn’t crimson, it was dirty, diseased red. If he ever got out of there then he’d need to see a doctor right away. But as he looked at the still-locked door and tested the cabling on his hands to no avail, he knew it might be the least of his worries.

He paced around, again trying to shake the ties on his hands the way he’d done with his feet, but he got nowhere.

He ended up slumped back against the wall, as far away from McKendrick as he could, waiting and watching and wondering. He hadn’t been like that for long when he heard it. Faint but getting louder and closer. Footsteps. Despite all the bad news that they were probably bringing, he was glad to hear them. After so long of nothing but water and squeaks, they were somehow deafening as they neared until finally they crashed down outside the door and in the dim glow of the single remaining lamp, he could see the long shadow of human legs.

The key turned slowly in a lock weighed down by a hundred years of rust but with a final clunk it drew back the bar and the door swung open. Rifle in hand, Monteith came in looking stern, anxious even. He seemed surprised to see Winter sitting in a different position to when he’d left and immediately looked to Winter’s feet where he saw them untied. Monteith immediately lowered the rifle till it was trained on him.

‘Turn and show me your hands. Now.’

‘Nice day at the office, dear?’ Winter asked him, paying for it with a sharp kick to his right ankle. He was really getting fed up with that.

‘I said fucking turn round.’

Winter obediently swivelled at the hips, ducking forward and to the side so Monteith could see that his hands were still firmly bound together behind him.

Monteith nodded, satisfied. It was only then that the smell from McKendrick hit him and he turned away sharply, his hand covering his nose and mouth.

‘You get used to it after a while,’ Winter told him.

Monteith looked down at the covered body, shaking his head slowly.

‘How did he die?’ Winter asked again.

‘I told you. An accident.’

‘You accidentally broke his neck?’

‘He went for me. The crazy bastard leapt at me when I had the gun on him. I didn’t want to kill him, wouldn’t have shot him. Not dead anyway. I might even have…’

‘Let him carry on?’

‘No. Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. It didn’t come to that. He got both hands on the gun and it became him or me. He ended up in front of me with the rifle across his neck, both of us holding it, grappling for it. I tried to pull it into his throat just to choke him a bit but then I twisted it and… there was a crack and he slumped. I didn’t mean to kill him.’

‘So you took over where he left off?’

Monteith ignored him.

‘How many did you kill, Monteith? Eight? Oh and you shot an innocent cop too. That make you proud?’

‘Shut the fuck up, Winter.’

‘You said that McKendrick should have been proud of what he did so it should be the same with you. Are you proud? Are you?’

‘I told you to shut it.’

He was getting louder, angrier.

‘Come on, Monteith. It’s just you and me. You said McKendrick should have got a medal for what he did. He did something when everyone else did fuck all, that’s what you said. So you did it too, didn’t you?’

‘You’re talking yourself into the grave, you stupid bastard. And there was no innocent cop. Your arsehole mate Addison was guilty as sin. I’ve never taken a dirty fiver in all the years I’ve worked and the idea of cops working for these bastards makes me want to puke. They are no better than the scumbags that pay them.’

Winter tensed his wrists against the cabling ties, wishing they’d been loosened so he could punch him in the face.

‘Addy wasn’t dirty. You’ve got nothing to prove that because there isn’t anything. What about Forrest and McConachie?’

‘No doubt about it. They were up to their eyes in it. Those four scumbags in the warehouse at Dixon Blazes? They couldn’t wait to talk about the dirty cops. Full of it they were. Wanted to save their necks and gave chapter and verse about how Forrest had been taking backhanders for years and turned a blind eye any time he was told to. He was well known in the saunas that Caldwell owned, got freebies from the girls in there. I’d heard that about him so it all fitted. They said that bitch McConachie had been tipping off Gilmartin whenever we tried to move against them and she had a pile of cash in her bank account.’

‘And Addy?’

‘Your mate’s number was in Sturrock’s phone. Why the fuck do you think that was there?’

‘That’s it? That’s all you had?’

‘It’s all I needed.’

‘Bollocks it is.’

Winter swallowed hard before what he was going to say next.

‘And what about Rachel? Rachel Narey.’

Monteith looked at him hard.

‘What about her? How did you know about her?’

‘I saw the photograph you’d taken. The one outside her flat.’

‘I’d have to wonder how you knew that was her flat but yeah, I took that. She was on the short list.’

Winter tried to keep a lid on his temper but it was becoming impossible.

‘McKendrick’s list?’

‘No, mine. I found her name listed in Sturrock’s phone as well. I’ve been keeping my eye on her. Not a hard thing to do, she’s tasty. If she wasn’t shagging drug dealers, I wouldn’t mind giving her one myself.’

That did it.

Winter got to his feet. Ignoring Monteith’s warning shout, he pulled one leg under the other and let his weight fall to the side till he was able to push himself up. Unsteady but upright, he was facing Monteith eye to eye for the first time and the cop didn’t like it.

He took half a step back. It wasn’t much but it was the first sign of a defensive move on his part, the first time that he’d displayed anything other than full confidence in what he was doing. Maybe he realized that too because he immediately came forward again to where he’d been.

‘Get back on the floor. Get back on the fucking floor.’

Winter stood his ground.

‘Fuck you, Monteith.’

‘What makes you so sure I won’t just put a bullet between your eyes, Winter? It is a hell of a lot closer than this thing is designed for but you shouldn’t be in any doubt that it can do the job. From here it would blow your head off.’

‘And you can do the job, right? Maybe you will. But the ones you killed deserved it, didn’t they?’

Winter took a couple of steps towards Monteith and was pleased to see him backing away towards the open door.

‘Stop right there, Winter. Stop now. You stop or I will fucking kill you here and now.’

‘I don’t think you’ve got the balls for it, Monteith.’

‘You know nothing, Winter. Nothing. Not about what I’m capable of or what the fuck happens in the real world. Talking about whether I’m proud when you don’t have the first clue about what needed to be done.’

‘So tell me.’

‘I’m going to kill you right now.’

‘I told you. I’ll take my chances.’

‘You’re an arsehole. Yeah I’m proud. I’ve got every fucking right to be proud. I’ve done more in the last week than in fifteen years in this job. Glasgow’s a better place for it and that’s what I’m paid to do.’