by Ed James
***
O'Brien showed in the last of Aitken's colleagues, a middle-aged man. "This is Will Brown. I'll leave you to it. I've got an audio conference I'm late for." She shut the door behind her.
Cullen gestured across the table. "Please, have a seat."
Brown sat, eyes darting around, arms folded across his chest. "How can I help?"
Caldwell cleared her throat. "What can you tell us about Alexander Aitken?"
"Sat next to him. Didn't know the boy very well."
"Why would that be?"
"He was a bit of a loner." Brown rubbed his thinning hair, spectral wisps held back in a facsimile of the haircut he would have had as a younger man, the white of his scalp clearly visible. "None of us knew him well. We're a pretty tight team and Sheena's a good manager. We all go for lunch in the canteen, except for Alexander. He wasn't what you'd call a team player, but he got through the work reasonably well."
"Is there anything at all you can tell us about Mr Aitken?"
Brown sneezed into his white handkerchief. He pocketed it then leaned forward on the table. "The only time Alexander would engage with us, was on the few nights out that he came to. He used to get really pi- drunk. We'd see a different side to him."
"In what way?"
Brown shrugged. "He'd get all animated. I mean, most of the time Alexander was a typical Scottish hard man. Lots of grunts and glares. He was too cool for school that boy."
"So he'd get aggressive on these nights out?"
"The opposite. He'd get really hyper. Sort of dancing, like." Brown made a show of dancing, hands in the air, like at a rave or a club. "There's a few times we went to those clubs in town that start at four on a Friday, fifty pee a shot, that sort of thing. I only went along for the drink, you understand, but the lassies in the team would start dancing early. Alexander joined them."
"Did he ever make advances on any of them?"
Brown stuck his bottom lip out, looking thoughtful. "Not that I can remember. He used to bug- leave pretty early."
Caldwell frowned. "Could he have been getting the train home?"
"I live out that way myself. Bathgate. There are trains till midnight and buses well into the wee small hours. I've taken them many a time."
"But you've no idea where he'd go on these nights out?"
"Afraid not. He wasn't the sort to have a banter about it on the Monday morning, you know?"
"I see." Cullen smiled at him. "Could you send Ms O'Brien back in?"
Brown got up, looking relieved. "Will do, son."
Cullen was about to take him to task for the 'son' but a look from Caldwell made him hold back.
Brown left the room and pulled the glass door to. In another conference room directly across the corridor, a particularly heated meeting was under way, a large man with a bald head and glasses waving his arms around and stretching his suit jacket to its limits, the other attendees looking bored by the rant. Cullen could only think of Bain.
Caldwell shut her notebook. "You could have bothered a bit there."
"Eh?"
"I asked most of the questions in all the interviews. You've just sat looking pretty."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
"I'm serious. You're supposed to be leading, yet I'm the one asking all the questions."
"I'm taking the information in and giving you an opportunity to show how good you are."
"To show who? You're not in charge of me, you know."
"What's up with you?"
"You. I've carried you this morning."
Cullen creased his forehead, unsure where this had come from. She was in danger of becoming as resentful of him as he was of Irvine or Bain. "Angela, you've not carried me. I've let you show that you can lead an interview. I could tell Cargill how well you're developing now you're formally in the role. Not sure I can be arsed if you think I'm riding on your coattails."
"Whatever, Scott."
O'Brien waddled down the corridor, playing with her expensive haircut.
"Come on, our ticket out of here has arrived." Cullen got to his feet. "I'll get you back to Holdsworth."
CHAPTER 9
Cullen sat at a free desk and got out his laptop, ready to write up his interview notes, with a view to getting Caldwell to overlay hers later.
"Mr Cullen."
Cullen recognised it. DS Colin Methven, Cargill's new deputy. He slowly turned. "Colin."
Methven narrowed his eyes, almost lost under his thick brows like billowing smoke. "I've not seen you around this morning. DI Cargill was looking for you."
"Been interviewing Xander Aitken's work colleagues. Bain's orders."
Methven leaned against the desk and put his hands in his pockets. "Tell me."
"Seems like he was a bit of a loner. Didn't mingle with the rest of the team much. Only oddity was that he got hammered pretty quickly on nights out then disappeared."
"Is that it?"
"I can only find what's there to find. Thought you were off today?"
"Yes, well, DI Cargill finally got notified by DI Bain and brought me in. I'm missing a day's training - I was going to run up Arthur's Seat this morning." Methven folded his arms across his chest. "I need to know everything you're up to from now on."
"I report to DS Irvine."
Methven sat on the edge of the desk beside Cullen. "For this case, you're working for me. This is too big a case to let the likes of Irvine and Bain mess it up. You're a good officer, Cullen, but you've got a reputation for being a bit of a sodding cowboy. I'm here to make sure you don't screw this case up."
Bain approached, eyes locked on the pair of them.
Slowly, Methven stood, putting his hands in his pockets and starting the incessant jangle - he must be top ten in pocket billiards.
"Sergeant." Bain shifted his gaze to Cullen. "Sundance, I need an update on Aitken."
Methven stood between them. "He's given the update to me, Inspector."
"Oh he has, has he?" Bain grinned. "Last time I checked, I was Senior Investigating Officer on this case and you were at home scratching your nuts, Crystal."
Methven closed his eyes as a smug grin filled his face. "You obviously haven't checked in a while, then." He reopened his eyes. "DI Cargill has been appointed SIO, you and I are Deputy SIOs."
Bain's eyes darted left to right. "Nobody's told me this."
"Do you honestly expect to be running a case like this with your reputation?"
"My reputation? While you've been up rogering sheep in Aberdeen and investigating who stole a can of Coke from wee Eck's corner shop, I've been solving big cases down here. Heard about the Schoolbook Killer, Crystal?"
"I love the nickname." Methven laughed. "Yet another example of your abuse of staff."
Bain squared up to him. "Have you heard of the Schoolbook Killer? And how I caught him?"
"I heard DC Cullen put it all together and you didn't back him up. Lost an officer, didn't you?"
Bain pointed a finger at him. "Listen, I'm not taking any of this shite from a DS."
"What's going on here?" DI Cargill was standing by the entrance to the Incident Room, hands on her sizeable hips, her forehead creased below her short fringe.
Bain thumbed at Methven. "This joker is telling me I'm no longer SIO on my own case."
"You're not." Cargill got in Bain's face. "Jim Turnbull has been trying to call you, but your phone is conveniently off."
"Conveniently? What are you trying to say?"
"He's summoned us to his office. Now."
Bain rubbed his face. "Fine. Let's go see him."
"Good." Cargill nodded at Methven. "You too." She looked at Cullen. "You shouldn't have to see that, Constable. It's not the sort of professional environment I wish to foster on one of my investigations."
Cullen raised his shoulders. "Not a problem with me."
"No, that is a problem. You shouldn't be used to it." Cargill marched out of the Incident Room, making sure Bain and Methven followed.
Sharon sat down next to him. "What was that all about?"
"Bain got his arse handed to him by Cargill. He's not SIO any more. Crystal is co-deputy with him."
"That's all we need."
Cullen gripped the edge of the desk. "Touch wood, this is the beginning of the end for Bain."
"We've said that before, Scott. Better just wait and see what happens."
"I suppose so." Cullen pointed at the door. "I feel like it's an 'out of the frying pan into the fire' thing with Methven."
"How?"
"Well, it's all this 'sodding' and 'bastarding'. At least Bain's machine gun f-bombs express something. 'Bastarding'? Really?"
Sharon chuckled as she sat next to him. "How's it going with Aitken?"
"Not another update I've got to give. First Methven, then Bain, now you. I'll just write my report up then everyone can read it."
"We're working on related parts of the investigation, so we need to work together."
"Fine." Cullen gave her his notebook.
She read it for a few seconds. "Interesting. Souness was a Rangers fan as well."
"Really? Suppose they all are in Ravencraig. There's only really Fauldhouse that's Celtic. I was going to use it as an opportunity to wind Bain up about Rangers being in the Third Division."
Sharon tutted. "You boys and your banter about football."
"Hey, I'm not that bad."
"Scott, that's just because your team's shite. Forgot to say, I got a text from my dad asking if yours was a Celtic fan."
"Why?"
"They were both moaning about Rangers last night so he thought your dad supported Celtic."
"He could've asked." Cullen laughed. "My dad's in danger of becoming an anti-Rangers fan, rather than a pro-Aberdeen fan. He's a sheep shagger through and through, just like me."
"Chip off the old block, aren't you?"
"You can talk, joining the force like your old man."
"And you wonder why Bain calls me Butch." She smoothed down her trouser leg. "I've got to head out to Ravencraig to speak to Souness's employer. He was a mechanic at Nichol's Garage. Can you help?"
"I really should get these notes typed up."
"Come on, Scott. You're my last hope. I couldn't prise Caldwell away from Holdsworth. No idea why, but he's in a shite mood."
Cullen winced. "That's probably my fault."
"Come on, chum me out to Ravencraig."
"I'm not hearing the magic word."
"Okay, please."
Cullen got to his feet. "Fine. It'll keep me away from whatever games are going on here."
***
Sharon drove them into Ravencraig, the small town perched on top of the hills overlooking much of West Lothian. In the daylight, Cullen could clearly make out Bathgate in the foreground and Livingston in the distance.
Cullen's phone beeped - a new text message from his mother. Aer wee e meeetngi up! He glanced over at Sharon, focused on the driving. "Reckon there's any danger I'll get away to see my parents?"
"None."
Cullen tapped at his phone. "Sorry. Can't get away today."
The road opened out into the wide, long High Street as they passed Ranger Rover. Sharon took the turning to Souness and Aitken's flat, before entering the usual sights - a Co-op, a Greggs, a fish and chip shop, two off-licenses and several pubs. Pretty much the last building on the street before it became an A-road was Nichol's garage.
Sharon pulled into the single parking space. "Must be like coming home. Back to the wild west."
Cullen got out and leaned across the roof of the car. "Believe me, I'd much rather be out in Garleton or Wester Hailes."
She led them over the road. The sign above the door to the garage read 'Proprietor: Hugh Nichol'. It was busy and loud, at least seven cars on the go, with a gang of mechanics shouting at each other and throwing tools. No sign of any customers. Maybe it was the sort of place you left your car in the morning and collected after work.
A middle-aged man approached, rubbing his hands on an oily rag. "Can I help?"
Sharon got out her warrant card. "Can we speak to Hugh Nichol?"
"You're speaking to him. And I prefer Shug."
"Fine." Sharon put her card away. "We believe a Kenneth Souness works here?"
"You'd better come through to my office."
They followed him into the garage, even louder than when they'd been standing on the periphery. He led them through a battered wooden door, a crude hand-drawn cartoon of Wonder Woman sitting on the toilet with her spangly pants round her knees pinned to the inside.
Sharon scowled at it.
Nichol sat down at a cramped desk, his chair wedged in a small gap. He gestured at two mismatched chairs opposite. "Kenny's not been in since Monday."
Sharon sat on the more stable-looking chair. "Has he called in?"
Nichol rubbed his ear. "Afraid not. No sick call."
"Are there any friends or family you know about?"
"Not that I'm aware of. Only relations he's got is that flatmate of his, Xander. Doesn't talk about his family, doesn't have a bird that I'm aware of and he only talks about his flatmate as an afterthought, you know, when they were going to the football."
Cullen shifted on the wonkier chair. "Was Mr Souness a Rangers fan?"
"He is, aye, son. Goes through to Castle Greyskull every second week, and to most away matches and all."
"Are you a fan?"
"I'm a Jambo, one of the few out this way." Nichol suddenly frowned. "Did you say 'was'?"
"I did. Mr Souness's body was found last night in his flat."
Nichol leaned back in his chair. "Jesus Christ. I was going to head round tonight and check on him after I'd locked up here." He took a deep breath. "I take it you pair are investigating his death, then?"
"That's correct." Sharon got out her notebook. "Do you know of anyone who'd want to harm him?"
Nichol chuckled but his eyes remained cold. "I'd have put myself on that list. Kenny was a good worker when he was hard at it but it used to take a good push to get him up to speed, if you know what I mean." He picked up a document from the desk and tossed it back down immediately. "He was always late, usually only about ten minutes but sometimes half an hour or more. It was particularly bad if there was a Champions League match on."
"You can't think of anyone?"
"Only one I could even think of to speak to is that Xander boy." Nichol scowled. "Should be Alex or Sandy, not Xander. Sounds like he's in Friends or something."
Sharon rolled her eyes. "Mr Aitken was found last night as well."
Nichol screwed his eyes up. "You're kidding me, right?"
"He was in a stolen Range Rover that rolled down one of the bings by Winchburgh."
"Jesus Christ." Nichol stared at the desk.
"Mr Souness was stabbed."
Nichol rubbed his forehead. "Are you having me on here?"
"No. Any ideas who might want to do such a thing?"
Nichol let out a deep breath and thought about it for a few seconds. "I can't. And that's the truth."
"You wouldn't happen to know anything about stolen cars?"
Nichol's eyes shot up. "What are you saying?"
"It's a simple question." Sharon gently brushed her hair over. "Do you know anything about stolen cars?"
"This is just a garage, I don't sell cars."
"I didn't say anything about selling cars. You've got a lot of men, a lot of equipment. You could do anything."
"Well, I don't. I run a legitimate business here. Besides, if it was a Range Rover that Xander was found in, I wouldn't be involved. The biggest we can do here would be a Picasso or a C-Max. You need special tools for SUVs. In case you hadn't noticed, I've got competition on that front in the town. We cut our cloth to suit ourselves."
Sharon nodded while she jotted a few things down. "Okay, I think that's about all from me. Anything from you, Co
nstable?"
Cullen almost smiled at her use of his formal title. "No, I'm fine."
CHAPTER 10
As they arrived back in the Incident Room, Cargill collared them. "I need to speak to the pair of you."
Sharon frowned. "Okay, what about?"
"In private." Cargill headed passed them towards the meeting room, Sharon following her.
Cullen followed, fearing an impending bollocking. What had he done this time?
Cargill stood outside a room just down the corridor. "In here."
It was one of the smallest in the station, four chairs around a circular table.
Sharon sat across from Cargill, giving Cullen no choice - he had to sit between them. He chose the seat away from the door - he could at least see who was being nosy and peering into the room through the floor-to-ceiling window.
"You're probably both already aware that DI Bain is no longer the Senior Investigating Officer on this case." Cargill shifted her chair forward. "This is a big case, we're under no illusion of that. DI Bain will operate as deputy, alongside DS Methven."
Sharon nodded. "We've heard."
"Good." Cargill licked her lips. "First, you two being paired up on an investigation is inappropriate given your relationship. I don't know why DI Bain did that, but I'm stopping it." She took a breath. "Second, everything is to go through myself primarily. Failing that, seek approval from both DI Bain and DS Methven. Nothing should go through either of them in isolation."
Cullen glanced over at Sharon, her eyes locked on Cargill.
"Third, I've got some actions for you both. Much as I hate to admit, they're in line with what DI Bain asked you to do. I want you to speak to the family of the deceased you were previously allocated. Sharon, you can have ADC Buxton to assist. Cullen, you can have DC Caldwell."
"Thanks." Sharon got out her notebook. "I'm not sure Kenny Souness has any surviving family."
"Well, if that's the case, we've got a dead end with one of the victims."
"What sort of approach are you taking to this?" Cullen folded his arms. "Are they separate cases or the same?"
Cargill smiled. "I'm treating them as both. Finding the second body in their flat is suspicious but it could just be coincidence. I'm keeping an open mind. They could be linked or they could be entirely unrelated."