by Ed James
In Cullen's eyes, they were music for people who hated music.
He was wasting his time in Glasgow, stuck between two warring factions of idiots, both as bad as each other. Bain was one of the worst human beings he'd ever encountered, but the politics and posturing on his own side sickened him. He didn't know which was in the right, if either.
All he could do was put his head down and get on with it. He pulled over the file and tried to make notes. He read for half an hour, only making a single scribble. He wished he was back in Edinburgh. He wished he wasn't working.
Near the back of the file he found a listing of Alex Hughes' calls leading up to his death. Two DCs sat at a desk just behind him. He craned round. "Has anyone been through these?"
They both looked blank. "Don't think so."
"Who would know?" said Cullen.
"Big Davie. Admin officer."
Cullen knew who Davie was, a bald officer in his early forties, lucky to have found his niche in admin. He found him after not too much searching.
"Cullen, isn't it?" said Davie.
"Aye. Has anyone looked through the phone records, do you know?"
Davie frowned. "Let me check." He picked up a ring binder, over-stuffed with paper. "Right. No, is the answer." He scratched his chin. "Should have been one of McCrea's lads."
"Cheers," said Cullen. "I'll do it."
"Lucky you," said Davie, scribbling on a form.
Cullen returned to his desk and sat down, relieved to have something to get on with. His nostril started twitching, a sure sign a cold was definitely on its way.
It took him a good forty minutes to build a decent cross-reference from the case file, ticking off the items on the list one by one, leaving just a single number he couldn't find. A ten-second phone call and a short wait later, his old mate Tommy Smith in Edinburgh Phone Squad came up with the goods.
It was Audrey Strang's number.
CHAPTER 87
Cullen managed to get a space just outside the close on the Royal Mile. He sat in his car at the back of nine, his head now thick with the cold. He slowly got out and climbed the stairs to the flat, still full of resentment at being sent back to Glasgow.
Eyes and ears.
Checks and balances.
It was all bollocks.
"Dinner's in the cat." Sharon's eyes were focused on a soppy romantic comedy starring some actors Cullen recognised but couldn't name.
"He needs to go on a diet," said Cullen.
"He's just cuddly."
"When you said I was cuddly, I went on a diet," said Cullen.
"How was your bollocking?"
"I've still got both. I think Cargill and Turnbull's are a bit sore."
She laughed. "Mind if I watch this?"
"It's fine," said Cullen. "I've eaten, by the way."
"Good." Sharon pressed play again.
As he sat there, he tried to summarise sufficiently to allow him to get some sleep. Driving back, aside from bemoaning his superiors, Cullen had tried to work out how Audrey Strang and Alex Hughes were connected, other than through her brother.
Why would Strang's sister be calling his ex-bandmate?
Cullen recalled Strang's mother saying she'd spoken to Hughes on the phone a number of times.
Maybe the cases were linked after all.
He threw a few ideas around in his head, but it simply came down to needing to speak to Audrey Strang again.
Sharon paused the film. "What's up?" She folded her arms.
"How do you know something's up?"
"You're twitching," she said. "It's distracting."
"Sorry."
"Well?"
Cullen sat up. "So, you know I've been sent back through to Glasgow, right?"
"Was this before or after you told Bain to go fuck himself?"
"Both," said Cullen. "I did some digging just before I left. I found a connection between their victim and our victim's sister. They were speaking to each other on the phone."
"You should tell them."
"I will."
"Scott..."
"I will," said Cullen. "Once I've investigated it myself."
"You need to watch what you're doing," said Sharon. "You've got away with your cowboy stuff in the past but it will catch up with you in the end. Besides, Bain will hang anyone out to dry to cover his own arse. With a high profile case like this, Cargill and Turnbull won't want any blame attached to themselves."
"I'll let them know." Cullen sat back on the sofa. "I met up with Michelle this morning."
"In Glasgow?"
"Aye," said Cullen. "It was weird. In some ways it was good, but it was tough. I forgot how much of a total ball buster she is."
"It's a bit out of character for you to do something your mum has moaned at you about for months," said Sharon.
"It was connected to the case," said Cullen. "She used to go out with a suspect."
Sharon laughed, shaking her head. "You are unbelievable, Scott. You really are."
"Well, I am glad I met up with her," said Cullen. "That's got to count for something."
"Only in your head, Scott."
She pressed play again.
Thursday
4th April 2013
CHAPTER 88
Cullen found Bain's number and called him.
"The briefing's just about to start," said Bain. "Where the fuck are you?"
"I won't make it in," said Cullen.
"Sundance, you're fuckin' supposed to be through here," said Bain. "You're their ears on the ground though here. Fuck me, I shouldn't be the one telling you what games they're playing."
"Look, I don't think I'll make it to the briefing," said Cullen. "Might make it in later. I've got this stinking cold. Picked it up off Sharon."
"You did, did you?" said Bain. "Fuckin' convenient it came the day after you were told to report to me, isn't it?"
"You can think what you like," said Cullen. "I'm not well. I'm on maximum strength Lemsip just to stop my brain dribbling out of my ears."
"When the fuck do you reckon you'll be back, then?" said Bain.
"Might be later on today," said Cullen. "Will see how it goes."
"Fuck's sake, Cullen. Can't believe the first thing I've got to do with you again is fuckin' sickness admin."
"Sorry."
"Remember I know when you're shittin' me, you silly bastard," said Bain.
"I just need some sleep and I'll be fine."
"Give me a call at lunchtime, all right?" said Bain.
"Will do."
Cullen hung up. He pocketed his phone, glad that was out of the way.
He walked out of the Kinross service station, taking a sip of coffee and crossing the busy car park. He fished his mobile out of his pocket and called Guthrie.
"What time is it?" said Guthrie.
"Seven."
"I'm not even awake yet," said Guthrie. "What are you after?"
"Just checking in."
"I'm strictly nine-to-five," said Guthrie. "Just as well the surveillance is now handled by your lot in Edinburgh."
"It's finished," said Cullen. "I don't think MacLeod is our man."
"That's nothing to do with me any more, then."
"You can help me, Goth. I need to speak to Audrey Strang again."
"Here we go on the Cullen merry-go-round," said Guthrie.
"Just bear with me. I'll be there in about an hour." He ended the call.
Cullen put the cup in the door and turned the key, before taking the Golf onto the M90 and towards Dalhousie.
CHAPTER 89
Cullen met Guthrie outside Audrey's flat in Dalhousie.
"How's it going?" said Cullen.
Guthrie yawned. "You need to work on your small talk, mate."
"I'm serious." Cullen shrugged. "How are you doing?"
"Just got told they've seconded me to the Glasgow South MIT for this case. Thanks for that."
"Sorry. I'll make it up to you. Promise."
"I thought
you were supposed to be in Glasgow yourself?" said Guthrie.
Cullen rubbed his nose. "I'm not well."
"So, why are you here?" said Guthrie.
Cullen shrugged. "I'm being looked after by my mother."
Guthrie shook his head. "Always the games with you, Skinky."
They looked up at Audrey's flat on the second floor.
"So, what are we doing here?" said Guthrie.
"Looks like she's been on the phone to Alex Hughes a fair amount," said Cullen.
"That's the Glasgow murder, right?"
Cullen nodded. "Aye."
"What are they speaking about?"
"Let's find out." Cullen buzzed the intercom.
"Hello?"
"Audrey, it's the police," said Cullen.
The door clicked open and they walked up to her flat.
Audrey stood outside the door. "What do you want?"
"I believe you've been on the phone to Alex Hughes," said Cullen.
"Aye, I have," Her eyes danced around the corridor. "Come on inside."
They went into the living room, Audrey taking her place on the futon. Cullen and Guthrie stood.
"I've had the task of going through Alex Hughes' call records for the period leading up to his death," said Cullen. "Your number was on there a number of times."
"So?"
"Care to explain it?" said Cullen.
"Alex and I both missed Jimi. That's all."
"Is that what you were talking about?" said Cullen.
"That amongst other things, I suppose."
"Like what?"
"Alex was a funny guy," said Audrey.
"I'm sure he was," said Cullen. "What did you talk about?"
"Stuff," said Audrey. "Things."
Cullen was fed up with her already. More than fed up. "You know he was into drugs, don't you, Audrey?"
"Drugs?" Her face seemed to spasm. "Drugs are bad, though."
"Alex was a drug dealer," said Cullen.
Audrey looked away. "I didn't know that."
"What did you talk about?"
"How things could have been," said Audrey.
"In what way?"
"Their record deal. If they'd got it, maybe Jimi would still be with us."
"You didn't know he was dead, though, did you?" said Cullen.
Audrey's eyes bulged. "No, we didn't."
"So, what did you mean about still being with you?" said Cullen.
"I thought Jimi had run away for a new life."
"What made you think that?" said Cullen.
"He disappeared," said Audrey.
"And what did Alex think?" said Cullen.
"Alex said the record deal would have made my brother stay."
"What record deal is this?" said Cullen, playing the daft laddie.
"A big record label was trying to sign Alex and Jimi's band," said Audrey. "I don't know the name."
"And what happened?"
"The record company took the contract away," said Audrey. "It was due to be signed. They'd agreed a lot of money."
"Do you know why that happened?" said Cullen.
"According to Alex," said Audrey, "Michael used his influence to get the deal taken away."
Cullen looked at Guthrie, his expression as blank as he felt. "Michael?"
"Michael," said Audrey, nodding.
"Why would Michael do that?" said Cullen.
"Jimi was obsessed with him," said Audrey. "He stole their song."
"Jimi stole one of Michael's songs?"
"No, the other way round." She started singing. "Where have you gone?"
Cullen frowned. "That's Expect Delays. Are you talking about Mike Roberts?"
Audrey nodded frantically.
Pieces slotted into place. Even Cullen had noticed the similarity between The Invisibles' song and the Expect Delays hit. Strang and Roberts had a solid friendship, at least according to Matt MacLeod. What happened between them?
"Alex says Expect Delays were going down the toilet and were about to get dropped. They ripped off Jimi's song. It was nothing like the rest of their stuff. You would hear it on the radio and everything. It was on an advert on the TV."
"How do you know this?" said Cullen.
"Alex told me."
"Just told you?" said Cullen. "Have you got anything to support this?"
"I've got some emails from him," said Audrey. "He sent them to me to make them safe."
"What sort of emails?" said Cullen, his mouth dry, hoping for hard evidence.
She woke up a sleeping laptop and twisted it round to show them. It was the poem. "Alex sent me this."
"What makes you think this is anything to do with it?" said Cullen, anger rising.
"It's obvious, isn't it?" said Audrey. She read from the poem.
In the end, I was reduced to it.
Stealing what wasn't mine, taking what didn't belong to me, coveting my neighbour's wife.
Betrayal is the hardest part.
Dishonesty, theft, hiding.
"That first part is from Michael's perspective," said Audrey. "He was reduced to stealing what wasn't his, coveting Jimi's song. Alex said he loved that song and he used to rave about it all the time." She sniffed. "The last two lines are from Jimi's perspective, how he felt betrayed. Mike was dishonest. He stole the song from him then stopped seeing him."
Cullen wasn't following this at all, but maybe she'd had insight into her brother's damaged mind as he wrote it. "How did he do that?"
"Michael cut him out of his life entirely," said Audrey. "Point blank refused to see him."
If what she was saying was true then Roberts had played a dangerous game. He'd stolen the song, had a hit single with it then excluded him from his life rather than sharing the success.
"Why were you phoning Alex?" said Cullen.
"Isn't it obvious?"
Cullen smiled, though rage burnt away in the pit of his stomach. He was struggling to contain it - so much had been hidden from them, just out of their reach. "It's not obvious to me."
"Alex had a dossier," said Audrey. "He had evidence pointing to Michael killing Jimi. He was going to confront him about it."
"Jesus Christ." Cullen rubbed at his face. "What sort of thing?"
"He sent me it," said Audrey. "I'll show you."
She took the laptop and went to another email, opened a file and handed it back.
Cullen looked through pages of musical analysis of the two songs, chord progressions and melodies analysed side by side. At most, there was only ever two or three notes difference from any chunk of music. Whether that was fact or simply the biased findings of Hughes' mind remained to be seen.
There was also a detailed analysis of Roberts' movements the day Strang was killed. The information had largely been culled from any associate of Roberts who would talk to Hughes. At the time in question, the closest Roberts had to an alibi was 'seeing a mate', something he'd told Neeraj, Expect Delays' guitarist. Nobody else saw him that evening.
Cullen's fingers tightened around the computer - McAllister and the other investigating officers could have torn the alibi apart, if only they'd known.
"Why didn't you go to the police with this?" Cullen handed the laptop back, having forwarded the emails to his own account.
"After what happened between Dean and me?" said Audrey. "Really?"
"What happened when Mr Hughes spoke to Mike Roberts?" said Cullen.
Audrey shrugged. "That's the thing. I've not heard from him since. He was going to see him last Wednesday."
CHAPTER 90
Cullen left Guthrie going through a detailed statement with Audrey and proceeded to get stuck in Dundee rush hour traffic, spending the time trying to decide on the best course of action.
Everything led to calling Methven.
"Run that by me again?"
Cullen's eyes were locked on the car in front. "Alex Hughes prepared some sort of dossier on Roberts. He reckons he'd stolen a song off Strang. He thought Roberts killed him
to cover it up."
"Mike Roberts?" Methven exhaled. "This is serious stuff, Cullen."
"I know," said Cullen. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not in the habit of accusing people without cause. It looks like Hughes confronted Roberts last Wednesday night."
"Oh, sodding hell," said Methven. "So, you're saying these are the same case? Roberts killed Strang then he killed Hughes?"
"This is from Strang's sister," said Cullen. "She doesn't seem to be a liar. She's not entirely on the same plane of existence as the rest of us, but I think it's worth checking out. The alternative is Bain pinning his case to a drugs murder and ours getting filed away with the cold cases when something new comes along."
The line was silent for a few seconds.
"What are you proposing, then?" said Methven.
"I'm heading to Glasgow now." Cullen started the engine as the car in front trundled forward.
"I thought you were ill," said Methven. "Alison had Bain on the phone complaining and wanting someone else sent through."
"I got a call from DC Guthrie," said Cullen. "I thought I should investigate it."
"You're playing games, aren't you?"
"I'll get some help from Bain's team."
"You're avoiding my question," said Methven. "I thought I told you about your behaviour."
"I've told you now," said Cullen. "That's progress, isn't it?"
"You're a cheeky sod," said Methven. "If this is a disaster, I'm having no part in it."
"Noted," said Cullen. "I'll get DI Bain's team to bring Roberts in then we'll question him."
"This had better be a much more thorough interview than yesterday's," said Methven. "I've seen the transcript. Not your finest hour, Sergeant. Sorry, Constable."
"Let me make up for it," said Cullen.
"Fine," said Methven. "Approved. Turnbull delegated authority to myself and DI Cargill."
"Thanks." Cullen was glad he couldn't see Methven's face. "I'd better go."
He ended the call and dialled McCrea's number, the traffic still crawling.
"Thought you were ill?" said McCrea.
"I told Bain I might feel better later," said Cullen. "It's later now and I'm feeling better."
"So, why not phone him?" said McCrea.