Papercuts 6: The Eagle Has Crash Landed

By Colin Bateman

Through world wars and civil strife, the Bangor Express has never missed an issue, but now it is losing money hand-over-fist and Rob Cullen, fresh off the plane from his London news desk, has absolutely no idea that he's the man to save it. Lured back to Northern Ireland for the first time in 20 years by the demise of his one-time mentor, the Bangor Express makes Rob an offer he can't refuse and the Guardian reporter can't resist sticking around. After all, it has been a long time since Rob had a real story to get his teeth in to... and with the Bangor Express, that's just what he's going to get.

Rob is standing outside a local carwash, when a young woman jumps out of a van stopped at a red light and is knocked unconscious. Rob rushes to her rescue and calls her an ambulance. When Alix goes to visit her in hospital, he discovers she is a prostitute who has been trafficked into Ireland from the Czech Republic. Marja has managed to escape her kidnappers, but her friend Anna is still captive at a local brothel. The Bangor Express take matters into their own hands to set her free...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
• Release date: Feb 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781784973759

Colin Bateman

Colin Bateman is an author, screenwriter and playwright. He is the creator of the BBC series Murphy's Law and was listed by the Daily Telegraph as one of the Top 50 crime writers of all time. Find out more at colinbateman.com

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About Papercuts #6: The Eagle Has Crash Landed

About Colin Bateman

Reviews

About Papercuts

Also by Colin Bateman

Table of Contents

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To read this book as the author intended – and for a fuller reading experience – turn on ‘original’ or ‘publisher’s font’ in your text display options.

For Matthew and Isaac

Johnny Cash shot a man in Reno,

just to watch him die.

Rob Cullen bought curly kale in Tesco’s,

just to watch it wither.

CONTENTS

Cover

Welcome Page

Display Options Notice

Dedication

Epigraph

The Eagle Has Crash Landed

About Papercuts #6: The Eagle Has Crash Landed

Reviews

About Colin Bateman

About Papercuts

Also by Colin Bateman

An Invitation from the Publisher

Copyright

Rob was a hero. Absolutely no doubt about it. He saved a young woman’s life. He gave her the kiss of life. ‘Even if she didn’t need it,’ said Pete, and they all laughed as they scoffed the buns Alix bought to celebrate his selfless act.

The thing about journalism – about reporting – is that mostly you’re reporting after the fact, you’re not usually there when major news events occur, or even minor ones. But sometimes, sometimes, right place, right time. And occasionally you become part of the story. Rob was only there because he was doing something that he really should have delegated to one of his team. Someone, possibly angered at featuring in one of their stories, or maybe it was just a passing vandal, but anyway, someone had spray-painted the word ‘tit’ across the delivery van. It was in silver paint, and in large letters, and it was very noticeable. It had happened exactly a week ago, and Gerry kept promising to have it removed, but nothing seemed to happen. Rob wasn’t exactly filled with confidence when Gerry said, ‘Sure, there’s no such thing as bad advertising,’ while Janine rolled her eyes and said, ‘That’s bollocks.’

Sean, who used the van more than most, scooting around town to take his photographs, said that he would be in severe danger of biting off his own tongue if he had to put up with another week of people calling him a tit or, even worse, joked about him driving the tit-mobile. But still Gerry wouldn’t come up with the petty cash to have it cleaned off, so Rob just threw up his hands and said he would get it done himself. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t take long – one of those high- powered hoses would do the job, and didn’t he pass a car wash every morning on the drive into work? He’d nip out in the van at lunchtime and get it done and then present the receipt to Gerry and demand that he immediately make good on it, and if he didn’t come up with the cash he’d... probably do nothing much. But it still needed to be done. The tit-mobile was becoming a laughing stock.

So at lunchtime, which was a sausage roll and a Mars Bar, both taken on the hoof, Rob drove over to the car wash, which was set up in the forecourt of a long-abandoned petrol station on Abbey Street. There was a somewhat tattered poster promising the world hanging across the entrance, and a largish wooden hut. When he drove up, a stubble-faced man in a shell suit came up to his window and said, ‘All right, mate? What’re you for?’

Rob said, ‘Take a wild guess.’

The guy stood back, noticed the graffiti for the first time, gave a short nod and said, ‘Fair enough.’ He moved up to the ‘tit’ and ran his fingernail along the paint, before examining it. ‘No bother,’ he said. ‘Eight quid.’

‘Eight quid,’ said Rob. ‘And can I get a receipt?’

The man looked at him like he was a space cadet. ‘It’s a car wash – cash only, we don’t exactly—’

Rob raised a hand. ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said, and gave a resigned sigh. The man came back to his window, and stood there with an expectant look on his face, confusing Rob for several moments; then he twigged and removed his wallet. He counted out eight pound coins and tipped them into the man’s outstretched hand. His puffy fingers closed around them. He turned and let out a loud whistle – and immediately there was a rush of movement from the hut behind. Five... no, six figures hurried across the weed-strewn forecourt. They looked to Rob to be of Indian or Pakistani origin: two adults and four children ranging from late teenage down to a wee tot who couldn’t have been more than four. This youngest one turned, chamois leather in hand, and indicated for Rob to pull the van forward. Rob smiled indulgently and did as instructed. He then stepped out of the vehicle – they looked a little surprised by this, but they were also smiley and pleasant and set about the van enthusiastically. Rob was just starting to wonder if there was a story here – good as they seemed to be at their job, four of them were children, and the tiny one, that was bound to be breaking the law – when there was a shout from behind, and he turned – they all turned – towards it. There was a set of traffic lights about twenty metres along, and there was a car stuck on red sitting facing them. The passenger door was open and a young woman was sitting half in, half out; as they all watched she tried to get fully out, but was immediately pulled back in by the driver; there were more angry shouts before she finally managed to rip free of him. She sprang

Reviews for Papercuts 6

[debbiemccauley-2 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

The one-hundred-year-old Bangor Express is in trouble, having never missed an issue during World Wars and civil strife, financial difficulties and the digital age may just shut it's doors. London-based journalist Rob Cullen has arrived back in the Northern Irish town for the funeral of the Bangor Express editor, his one time mentor. Plyed during a great night out with alcohol and money, paper owner Gerry talks Rob into staying and having a go at saving the paper - after all it appears he is suspended from this London job for some shadowy reason and has nothing better to do! Rob discovers that the employees work like a highly dysfunctional family, with at least two journalists chasing the editors job and all the strife that entails. An entertaining read - would read more by this author but the ending left me hanging - I wanted some answers!