Dyed in the Wool (DC Scott Cullen Crime Series Book 4)

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Dyed in the Wool (DC Scott Cullen Crime Series Book 4) Page 8

by Ed James


  "Well that's good for you. I'm just going to head upstairs, type up the report and make sure I'm not making any other officers go out on a limb or actually, you know, catch criminals."

  "If you want to be like that, then be my guest."

  And with that she was gone, leaving Cullen looking at the closing door. He really needed to sort out his reputation.

  ***

  "The usual, is it?" Barbara, Cullen's favourite canteen worker, gave him a cheeky wink, her wrinkled face screwing up.

  "Aye."

  She gave a laugh which quickly turned into a rattling cough. "You know, yours is the only BLT with brown sauce on."

  "Is it?"

  "Bad day, is it?"

  "You could say." Cullen sighed. "I've been staring at a screen for hours. My eyes are starting to go."

  "Your day's about to get worse." Bain appeared to Cullen's right, clutching a Müller Fruit Corner.

  "Inspector." Barbara headed off to get Cullen's roll and coffee.

  Cullen didn't turned to face Bain. "What have I done now?"

  "Always on the defensive, Sundance, who says you've done anything?"

  "You just implied my already shite day is going to get worse."

  "You think you're having a shite day. I'm getting treated like a fuckin' DS by that witch Cargill. Just been at both post mortems. That witch is getting right on my tits, which are bigger than hers, by the way."

  "What happened at the PM?"

  "I was too fuckin' angry to pay attention." Bain held up a document. "Came up here to read through the report."

  "Anything else making you angry?"

  "Turnbull is treating me like shite as well. Prick."

  "I'm not sure you should be saying that in public."

  "I'll say it where I fuckin' like."

  Barbara appeared with Cullen's roll and coffee. She scowled at Bain. "Language!"

  "Sorry." Bain lowered his head. "Haggis, bacon and tattie scone, please."

  "If you promise not to swear in here again."

  "Aye, okay."

  Barbara gave him a stern smile. "Good."

  Cullen handed her a fiver and she gave him his change. "Better head back down."

  "Aye, I'll see you, Sundance."

  ***

  "The post mortem for Kenny Souness is complete." Cargill held up a report as she stood at the front of the room, full for the briefing, officers having been dragged back from the investigation in Ravencraig and wider West Lothian. "We believe Souness was stabbed in the stomach with a serrated knife at least twenty-four hours before he was found by DS McNeill and DC Cullen. The cause of death was almost certainly blood loss. According to Dr Deeley, he would most likely have survived if he'd received hospital treatment."

  She picked up another report from the table at her side. "His flatmate, Alexander Aitken, died as a result of his injuries in the crash after the Range Rover descended from the top of the earth mound where the car was found. While we've no eyewitnesses so far, we've enough forensic evidence to confirm the car plummeted from the top."

  She paused and looked around. "Now, Deeley believes the wounds Aitken received are only partially consistent with the stolen car rolling down the hill. The upshot is that we believe Aitken may have incurred injuries by some other means."

  "What 'means' would those be?" Irvine's mouth pounded on chewing gum.

  "Deeley's performing a follow-on activity to identify that." Cargill's cold eyes stared at him. "He may have been beaten, but we can't confirm that just now. The seatbelt's cut into his chest and severely bruised him. However, we've confirmed the ring imprint belonged to what's unfortunately the second-most popular sovereign design in West Lothian."

  "Who do you think beat him up?"

  Cargill held her hand up. "Please let me finish. I want to progress this investigation in an efficient and clean manner. We will look for the experts to complete their analysis, draw the conclusions we need and then complete the activity. Am I clear?"

  "Crystal."

  Bain, standing alongside Cargill, gave a quick smirk before his face settled back.

  Cargill set down the second report. "The specialists in James Anderson's team are going through the forensic analysis now. The investigation at the flat Souness and Aitken shared is drawing to a close. The car has now been moved to the investigation hub downstairs and there's a full forensic analysis underway."

  She picked up a sheet of notepaper, reading it for a few seconds, her lips moving as she read. "We have another four streams underway. First, DS Rarity is leading the door-to-door investigation in Ravencraig on the victims' street. Whilst it may be early days in the investigation, we have a couple of avenues to explore. I don't want to go into explicit details at this point. Our prevailing theory is Souness was stabbed in the flat. There's sufficient forensic residue to point to that, but we don't have a murder weapon."

  She looked at Cullen. "The other three streams are key information gathering exercises, led by DS McNeill and DC Cullen, with DS Methven giving oversight. DS McNeill is looking into Kenny Souness's history, while Cullen is doing a similar activity with Alexander Aitken."

  She gestured at Methven, standing on the other side from Bain. "DI Methven's activities relate to tying the various pieces up and pulling together a picture of these young men's lives." She paused for a few seconds. "This is a highly suspicious case. A man is found in a car at the bottom of a bing, with injuries more severe than they should be. His flatmate is found the same night dead from stab wounds."

  Irvine readied himself to interrupt again, but the expression on Cargill's face clearly made him change his mind.

  "From the very first moment on the Aitken case, we've treated it as murder. We view these cases as potentially linked. I want to make sure that we're all on the same page and our activities are focused. The majority of you are on the door-to-door. Don't treat that as anything but the most important part of the investigation. Write everything down, no matter how insignificant it seems at the time. Please report to DS Rarity and DS Irvine for revised actions. I want DC Cullen and DS McNeill to stay behind with myself, DI Bain and DS Methven."

  Cullen shared a look with Sharon, unable to work out if he was heading into a doing or not.

  CHAPTER 14

  "You were all there for my briefing." Cargill folded her arms and leaned across the desk. "You know where we are with this case, so I shouldn't have to spell it out for you. Nonetheless, in the interests of clarity, I will. I can't help but think that these are connected. Somebody has murdered Kenny Souness, that much is clear. The evidence is starting to point to Alexander Aitken having been murdered. We need to get a list of potential suspects."

  She got to her feet and went over to the flip chart in the corner of the room, presently showing an anonymous structure chart. She flipped it over and uncapped a pen, then wrote Souness and Aitken on the board. "What are the connections between them?"

  Sharon raised a hand. "They're both from Ravencraig."

  Cargill wrote it down, joining the arrows from the victims. "Good, what else?"

  Cullen cleared his throat. "They were Rangers fans."

  Rangers went up on the sheet.

  Cullen flipped through his notebook. "From what I've been told about Aitken, they were both season ticket holders and they'd also travel to away games."

  Methven got to his feet and joined Cargill at the board. "Could they be hooligans?"

  "Worth looking into." Cullen shrugged. "They're young and Ravencraig is a rough town."

  Cargill looked at Sharon. "DS McNeill, can you check if they were involved in hooliganism, please?"

  "Will do." Sharon scribbled it down. "DI Wilkinson may have some useful information."

  "For once." Bain grinned.

  Cargill shot him a look. "Anything else?"

  "If you're just looking for connections, I've not got any more." Bain rubbed his moustache. "There are a few things we could look at independently, though."

  "Con
nections for now." Cargill folded her arms. "Any more?"

  "They were flatmates." Methven tapped at the flipchart. "I know it's obvious but it should be put down."

  Cargill added it. "Okay, anything else?"

  Cullen frowned. "How about Aitken stabbed Souness before killing himself?"

  Bain tutted. "Jumping to conclusions, Sundance."

  Cargill scowled. "Let him continue."

  "It's a possibility." Cullen licked his lips. "They might've had a fight or something. The evidence we've got could point to Aitken stabbing Souness, leaving the flat, stealing a car and then killing himself. The post mortem report said Souness had been dead for at least twenty-four hours before we found him. Say it's a couple of days and in that time Aitken is so wracked with guilt, he kills himself."

  "Why, though?" Methven frowned. "Are you suggesting an argument about the sodding washing up?"

  "Make a joke of it if you like." Cullen folded his arms. "I'm saying it fits, that's all. What about the bruising on Aitken? They could've had a fight at the flat, he stabbed Souness, but he's been beaten black and blue. He goes mad, steals the car on Tuesday afternoon and then kills himself on Wednesday."

  "No forensics in the flat." Bain scratched his head. "Souness was definitely not slotted there, unless Aitken's got the old bin bags out, done him and then pissed off. Anderson found a trail of blood going inside the flat from outside. Difficult to spot but it's there. Souness was stabbed elsewhere and got home somehow, either with or without Aitken's help."

  Cargill glared. "DI Bain, why have you not shared this information with the rest of the team?"

  Bain grinned. "Let me know when I get an audience with you which isn't you undermining my position."

  Cargill put her hands on her hips. "I just stood in front of thirty officers to say it looked like Souness could have been stabbed in the flat."

  "Best check your facts in future."

  "I did. I spoke to James Anderson and he didn't give that same story."

  "Mustn't have asked in the right way. He just needs tickling under the chin." Bain waved a document in front of her. "He gave me a copy of the draft report."

  Cargill snorted. "Let's keep it as a possibility, but it's an outside bet."

  Bain grinned. "It's hardly the three ten from Chepstow. It's there in black and white."

  "Until this report of yours is published, it's an outside bet. Okay?"

  Bain beamed to himself. "Fine."

  Cargill looked back at the board for a few seconds. "Next, let's focus on Aitken. Cullen?"

  "His girlfriend, Demi Baird. He disappeared on nights out. Worked at RBS. His parents are both a bit dodgy and they're not divorced."

  "Doesn't feel like a lot."

  Cullen's ears burned. "Tell me what else I could have done?"

  "Sorry, Scott, I'm not having a go at you. I'm just saying there doesn't seem to be a lot to go on with this young man." Cargill rubbed the back of her head. "Sharon, what have you got on Souness?"

  "Parents both dead, Mum had cancer, dad from a heart attack. Both in the last three years." Sharon flipped through her notebook. "He worked at Nichol's Garage in Ravencraig as a mechanic. That's it. Not a lot to show for a day's work, I'm afraid."

  Cargill screwed her eyes up. "No girlfriend?"

  "No."

  "No boyfriend?"

  "No anybody. Other than his flatmate, he didn't have any close friends. Neither has a criminal record, other than Aitken's early career."

  "Let's focus on finding out more about these two. We need to get the street team on this, try to get people in Ravencraig to open up here." Cargill scribbled a few more notes on the chart. "Has anyone got anything else to add?"

  Nobody had.

  "Okay, in that case I want us to cast our net wide. This is a mystery and we need to get to the bottom of it. DS McNeill and DC Cullen will lead on the ground, but I want DI Bain and DS Methven to oversee and make sure we're covering everything in a holistic manner." Cargill stared at Bain. "And until documents are formally published, I do not wish for their contents to be discussed." She checked her watch. "Briefing is at seven a.m. tomorrow. Make sure the paperwork is up to date before you leave tonight."

  ***

  Cullen walked through Technical Investigation Unit floor, realising he'd not been up there in some months.

  Charlie Kidd was still at his desk at half past eight. Most of the civilians the force employed worked a standard nine-to-five but Kidd was a notorious night owl, happier in the hours of darkness than getting into the station when Cullen did. He had huge black headphones on, the sort that Premiership footballers would wear in post-match interviews, his head nodding to a beat.

  Cullen crept up to him and tapped him on the shoulder.

  No reaction.

  Kidd tapped a mirror to the side of his monitor. "I put this little beauty in to stop you and Bain doing that." He turned around and folded his arms. "What can I do you for?"

  "Just wanted to see how you were getting on with Aitken and Souness's laptops."

  "Aye, well you're not very joined up downstairs. Had your bird up here an hour ago pestering me about them."

  "Anything?"

  "Just games, emails and tax returns. The boy was self-employed, subcontracting from Nichol's Garage, so there's a load of paperwork for Mrs Cullen to get through."

  "Sharon isn't Mrs Cullen."

  Kidd laughed while he played with his ponytail. "Aye, whatever, that's what we call her up here."

  "Well, you can stop calling her that."

  "What about calling you Mrs McNeill?"

  "Very funny. Did you get anything out of Aitken's laptop or the Xbox?"

  "Nothing much on the Xbox, just played games off disk, nothing online really." Kidd tapped a cream Alienware laptop, a good few kilograms of gaming machine. "Did get a good load of stuff on this, though."

  "Can't imagine that's the most portable of laptops." Cullen picked it up - it was even heavier than he thought.

  "It's an impressive beast, Scott. These boys were into their games. Shooters mainly. Call of Duty, Gears of War, stuff like that. Fifa, too. Didn't even have Portal." Kidd opened up a screen on his computer. "Aitken had a slightly more interesting internet history. Nothing too juicy, mind. Got a check going with their broadband provider to compare what he's got on the laptop with what they've been sending him, just in case they've been trying to go off-grid."

  "Feels like you're avoiding something. What sites had Aitken been on?"

  "Gmail, BBC Sport, couple of Rangers forums, couple of football sites. But also a lot of time on Schoolbook."

  Cullen rolled his eyes. "No way."

  "Way." Kidd avoided Cullen's eyes.

  "What sort of stuff has he been up to on there?"

  "There's absolutely no chance I'm going back, even if you paid me."

  "We do pay you."

  "Aye, well, I'd need warrants and all sorts again."

  Cullen could just picture Bain's face at the prospect of them going back into Schoolbook.

  ***

  Cullen picked up his mobile and dialled a contact from his list. He put his feet up on his own desk, away from the hubbub of the Incident Room, and looked across the floor, spotting only a few bodies.

  "DI Davenport."

  "Ally, it's Scott Cullen."

  "Long time, no speak, I'd expect you to be a DCI by now."

  "Really?"

  "No. How's my favourite detective constable?"

  "I'm adequate."

  "Still got the same lines, Cullen." Davenport bellowed with laughter down the line. "I was just talking about you the other day."

  "Oh?"

  "Young DC by the name of Eva Law. Just brought her in from Haddington in the summer after she got her fixed tenure in CID. Sounds like she was another of your conquests."

  "She wasn't." Cullen swapped hands as he put his foot up on the desk. "Besides, I'm settled down now. I've had a serious girlfriend for fourteen months."
/>   "Fourteen minutes is a record for you, isn't it?"

  "Aye, very good."

  "What can I do for you?"

  "I'm fishing. Wondered if you had any DS jobs going."

  "Same old Cullen, obsessed with the number of stripes on your sleeve."

  "Well?"

  "There might be. You'd need to have been an Acting DS for three to six months before we'd consider it, though."

  "I've pretty much been Acting DS."

  "What do you mean by 'pretty much'?"

  "Well, my DS is a twat and I've been doing his job for him."

  Davenport laughed again. "So if I called up Jim Turnbull, he'd say the same?"

  "He might. He said I'm one of his rising stars."

  "Might isn't good enough, Cullen. I need a proven DS to even consider bringing them in." Davenport paused for a few seconds. "I seriously don't think that's you yet."

  "Oh, come on, we worked well together."

  "We did, I'm just saying that I don't think it's you yet. Give yourself another year, get that Acting DS activity formally on your CV and then we can talk."

  "Right."

  "Besides, all these changes that are happening in April, who knows - you might be my new boss by then."

  "Cheers."

  "We should have a chat in a few months, okay? And get the Acting DS experience."

  "Will do." Cullen ended the call, before staring into space for a few minutes. His options were shrinking around him, restricting him to surviving in the current environment.

  ***

  Sharon returned to the table - a glass of Rioja for her and a pint of Staropramen for him. "Here you go."

  Cullen held up his glass in mock toast. "As my gran would say, your face is tripping you."

  The corner of Sharon's mouth turned up ever so slightly. "It's been a shite day."

  "You've barely said a word to me since we left the station."

  She took a big drink of her wine. "That's better." She drummed her fingers on the table, looking distracted. "Having Cargill as my boss again hasn't exactly been a great experience."

 

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