Murder Mile (40 page)

McGuire was already running towards the sound as Brennan turned; the DI took off after him. The pair went headlong into the darkness, Brennan following the thud of McGuire’s footfalls and heavy breathing. The night air was cold and the men’s warm breath
was
lit by the moonlight as they went. They had only travelled a few metres when they seemed to drop sharply into a ditch that halted them mid-stride. As Brennan fell downwards he extended his hands and felt his palms connecting soundly with solid earth. For a second he was jolted, as his shoulders absorbed the full shock of his body weight, and then his elbows bent and his chest smacked off the wet ground. He rolled to the side, tracing the ditch’s declivity, and then came to a halt. As he righted himself, regained his senses, he saw the torchlight burning in Crawley’s grip. WPC Elaine Docherty was on the ground beneath him; her hands were tied behind her back but her legs kicked out as she thrashed and lunged at her attacker.

‘Crawley, step away!’ yelled Brennan as he tried to rise.

McGuire groaned at his side, turned over on his knees holding his elbow; Brennan saw the blood trailing over the sergeant’s knuckles; the arm sat at an unnatural angle.

He got up, turned from McGuire and ran into the torchlight. Crawley stood frozen as Brennan crossed the few short yards between them and tackled him to the ground. The torch fell into the grass as Brennan landed heavily on Crawley, forcing him to cry out. The DI righted himself, rose up on his knees as he straddled the felled Crawley; for a moment Brennan was lost to himself, he put his hands on the killer’s neck, tightened his grip and watched him writhe beneath him. He felt a powerful urge to watch Crawley’s life drain away; his pulse was racing, his mind welling with animus as he pressed his hands deeper into Crawley’s throat. He watched the killer’s eyes widen, his lips splayed in a rictus and the dark tongue inside pressed into the air. Crawley started to gag, white froth gathering at the edges of his mouth. Brennan knew he was seconds from death, he felt the tension in his own aching jaw where he gripped his teeth tight and saw the real terror that was in Crawley’ face. For a moment, Brennan understood nothing about himself and everything about the killer he gripped in his hands, and the thought stabbed at him; flashing into his mind with fresh perspicacity. It was as if an unseen hand was holding him back:
some
part of him didn’t want to take revenge. Brennan knew the primal instinct to kill wasn’t in him; he was a police officer, not a murderer. He gasped for breath and released his grip.

Brennan watched as Crawley raised hands to his throat; he coughed and spluttered as he gasped the night air greedily. His face was reddened, his eyes, still wide, showed the brightness of burst capillaries webbing their edges. He tried to turn over, to escape the hold Brennan had on him, but the DI grabbed his flailing arms and attached handcuffs to his wrists. As Crawley lay with his face in the dirt, spitting at the grass and muck, Brennan leaned forward, brought his mouth close to his ear and yelled in a ragged, emotional voice, ‘Get used to fucking chains, beast!’

Brennan rose, gasped for breath himself as he turned to take in the sight of McGuire kneeling to comfort Elaine; he had his one good arm round her; she rocked in steady tears as they huddled together on the ground like lost children. The DI walked towards them, his steps heavy and uncertain, adrenaline receding, his mouth drooping as he took in air.

‘It’s over,’ said McGuire to Elaine. ‘All over.’ As the DI appeared at his side, he looked up, said, ‘It is, isn’t it, sir?’

Brennan nodded; he placed a shaking hand on McGuire’s shoulder. ‘It’s over, Stevie.’ He turned away, looked to the dark night sky and caught the dim glow of the city of Edinburgh in the distance. ‘It’s well and truly over.’

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

Version 1.0

Epub ISBN 9781409023609

Published by Preface 2012

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

Copyright © Tony Black 2012

Tony Black has asserted his right to be identified as the author of this work under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988

This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition, being imposed on the subsequent purchaser

First published in Great Britain in 2012 by Preface Publishing
20 Vauxhall Bridge Road
London SW1V 2SA

An imprint of The Random House Group Limited

www.randomhouse.co.uk
www.prefacepublishing.co.uk

Addresses for companies within The Random House Group Limited can be found at
www.randomhouse.co.uk/offices.htm

The Random House Group Limited Reg. No. 954009

A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

ISBN 978 1 84809 192 4