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

by Ed James

  "What's the other investigation?"

  "We're allocated to DI Wilkinson."

  "Bloody hell." Methven rubbed his eyebrows. "What happened when you finally turned up here?"

  "It was well alight. Looked like it had been burning for about twenty minutes, maybe longer."

  "Was there anybody around?"

  Kieron shook his head. "Nobody."

  "Hmm." Methven got out his notebook before pointing at Green and Kieron. "You two stay here and support the fire service." He looked at Cullen. "Get ADC Buxton to investigate the ownership of the garages."

  "Will do." Cullen scribbled it down. "What about me?"

  "Can you get the latest CCTV tapes of this place and see who was here in the last hour?"

  ***

  "What is it?" Methven was sitting in the corner of the Incident Room, tapping on a laptop, not even looking up at Cullen.

  He held up a wad of photographs. "Finished the CCTV search just before the fire. Got a very loose lead."

  Methven grabbed the photos, spending a few seconds looking through them. "Doesn't show a great deal, does it?"

  "We could get those four boys in hoodies brought in." Cullen pointed to a few shots showing kids running away from the garages, across the adjacent waste ground.

  "Good shout." Methven sighed as he put them down before shutting the lid on the laptop. "It feels a bit of a coincidence, that's all. You find out the car was taken there and within an hour the whole lot's up in flames."

  "I thought that as well. The only people who knew were you, me, Buxton, DI Cargill and PC Green."

  "Plus Green's sergeant and half that bloody station. Who was that kid with him? Looked familiar."

  Cullen hesitated. He hadn't told anyone Bain's son was even on the force, let alone the same case. "It's Kieron Bain, works out of Ravencraig."

  "Any relation?"

  Cullen rubbed his forehead. "His son."

  Methven slammed his fist down on the desk. "You know the sodding rules around this. He was the First Attending Officer at the bing, wasn't he?"

  "He was."

  "Why haven't you told me this before?"

  "It's in the file. He's supposed to be off the case."

  Methven spoke with his eyes shut. "Don't you think DI Cargill or I should've been informed?"

  "I'm not hiding anything."

  "Like hell you are." Methven opened his eyes. "You know I've been brought in here to stop this sort of nonsense. You and Bain and Irvine, you're all the same. Bloody cowboys."

  "With all due respect, we're not the same."

  Methven sneered at Cullen. "Get out of my sodding sight. I'll take this up with DI Cargill."

  Cullen checked his watch - twenty past six. "I'm going home."

  "Fine by me." Methven opened his laptop. "Might solve this case if we've not got you making a mess of it."

  CHAPTER 30

  The flat was empty when Cullen got home. He sat at the dining table and switched on the TV. The One Show - the worst concept for a TV programme ever, which seemed to be "don't have a concept". Sharon loved it. Maybe that was why he hated it.

  He went through the other channels. Nothing.

  He gave a deep sigh. How did people fill evenings watching TV? He'd never had a problem finding stuff to do, but he was at a loose end now.

  He was hungry. Maybe he should go to the Co-op for something healthy, rather than the usual pizza or curry. A shish kebab wasn't too unhealthy - vegetables and protein.

  The front door opened and Rich walked in, wearing his black work suit with grey shirt and black tie.

  "You look very nineties there, Rich."

  Rich scowled. "Whatever."

  Cullen turned off the TV. "Bad day?"

  "Insurance company are being dicks about my phone. It's my life in there. Only good thing is it's cancelled and everything's backed up, so I can just get a new one." He sat next to Cullen. "You're home early."

  "Had a shite day myself."

  "Sharon?"

  "That's only part of it. The DS I'm working with just now is a total fanny and he's got it in for me."

  "They're all like that, aren't they?" Rich grinned. "What have you done this time?"

  Cullen threw his hands in the air. "Nothing. I've worked my arse off today. He's just picking on me."

  "I believe you. Pint?"

  ***

  The bell rang. "Last orders!"

  Rich swirled his pint glass. "One for the road?"

  Cullen checked the time - just after eleven. They were pretty much the only ones left. "Aye, fuck it. One more pint isn't going to make it that much worse tomorrow."

  Rich headed to the bar.

  Cullen looked across the Dalriada, a pub-cum-restaurant in an old Victorian mansion at the far end of the promenade in Portobello. Their plates were still on the table - steak and chips for Cullen, tomato pasta for Rich - alongside several empty pint glasses.

  He couldn't believe he'd spent his first working night as a single man getting pissed with Rich. What had Sharon done?

  Rich put the two pints on the table. "Here you go. Better drink up - the barman wasn't impressed. Poor guy looks like he just wants to go home."

  "Fine."

  "What's up?"

  "Don't know. Sharon, probably."

  "Right, so you do miss her?"

  "I think so. It's only been a weekend. Can't believe it's been so short a space of time. I must look like a total pussy."

  Rich held his hands up. "Hey, I'm all for guys showing their sensitive side. I'm not Tom, you know?"

  Cullen smiled. "Thanks. It's just I feel she's taken our future away. I was going to move in with her. We had a holiday booked. I can't bloody believe it."

  "Must hurt, right?"

  "Like you'd know."

  "Just try me."

  "Spit it out."

  "Look, Scott, the reason I moved back up here was this guy I'd been seeing in London. Andrew. Third generation Greek. Real Adonis type, you know?" Rich took a big gulp of his beer. "Thing was, he'd been fucking guys at the gym. He'd been lying to me all that time. It was going on for months, must've been about twenty blokes."

  "You've never told me this."

  "I preferred my return north to be shrouded in mystery."

  "So, basically, you know what it's like being lied to?"

  Rich looked away. "It's not just that. Sharon's lie was kind of safe, in a way."

  Cullen pointed a finger at him. "Watch where you're going with this."

  Rich held his hands up. "Stop being such a bloody princess. I'm serious. Andrew was fucking loads of blokes in a gay gym. Just think about that. Those guys could have had anything. He was bringing that into our home."

  Cullen slowly nodded. "Oh shit. Are you… you know?"

  "Am I what?" Rich folded his arms.

  "HIV positive."

  "I've had a test, if that's what you mean. Had three, in fact, just to be sure." Rich took another swig of beer before looking away. "Relax, I've not got AIDS."

  Cullen breathed a sigh of relief. "I suppose Sharon's betrayal's nothing compared to that."

  "Aye. She used to go out with a woman. Big deal. I know a few blokes who'd be turned on by that sort of thing, or at least say they were."

  Cullen glowered. "Not me."

  "I suppose you're quite traditional." Rich nodded at his eyebrow. "Where did you get that scratch from?"

  Cullen tugged his hair down. "I got into a fight on Saturday."

  "What sort of a fight?"

  "I went to the Hibs match with a mate. We were going for a pint when we got jumped by some neds in tracksuits."

  Rich smirked. "Really? Local hero cop assaulted by neds?"

  "Aye, very good. They almost opened the wound in my shoulder."

  "What are you going to do about it?"

  "Still haven't decided."

  "Which pretty much means do nothing, right?"

  "Yeah."

  Cullen sat in silence, thinking th
rough his options. He didn't like getting battered by casuals. He didn't like the fact they knew Derek Miller. "I can't make my mind up about how to deal with it."

  "How do you mean?"

  "I'm enough of a laughing stock at the station because of Sharon. Being jumped by some neds wouldn't be great."

  "Still, you can't like those fuckers getting away with it, can you?"

  "No." Cullen needed to speak to Derek again.

  Rich leaned forward. "You in early tomorrow?"

  "Usual time. Why?"

  "You fancy going to a club?"

  ***

  The music was loud and the Liquid Lounge was busy for a Tuesday. Rich and Cullen worked the dance floor, prowling it like a pair of panthers, at least in Cullen's head.

  As they danced, Rich had his eyes on a tall, athletic guy wearing a suit, vaguely reminiscent of a young Ewan McGregor.

  Above the thumping beats of a Fatboy Slim track, Rich shouted in his ear. "More shots?"

  "Thought you had your eyes on that bloke?"

  "It's not him I'm worried about. It's her again." Rich gestured in the opposite direction - a girl in her mid-twenties had been staring at Cullen since they arrived.

  Cullen quickly formulated a plan. "More Jaegerbombs?"

  "Slag bombs."

  Cullen grinned. "Back in a minute." As he left the thud of the dance floor, he clocked the girl again - not bad. Not bad at all.

  Rich made his move, reminding him of a nature documentary where a lion attacks a wildebeest.

  He made for the bar, a long dark room with booths opposite, leaning against it with a twenty pound note out, like some mid-nineties City trader.

  "Aye?"

  "Two slag bombs." Cullen waited while the barman poured the booze and squeezed the can.

  "Hey there."

  Cullen spun round. The girl from the dance floor, definitely after him. "Hey."

  "You can really dance." She was absolutely banjaxed.

  "Thanks. I try my best."

  She stood there, eyes wide. He held out his hand. "Scott."

  "Katie."

  Cullen tried to smile. He'd loved that name until a girl with it totally destroyed his heart.

  She leaned close. "Pretty busy for a Monday night."

  "Yeah. Why are you here tonight?"

  "I'm a nurse. Tomorrow's my day off."

  "Right." Cullen nodded.

  "What about you?"

  "Oh, I'm just a piss head."

  She laughed hard, perhaps too hard.

  Cullen could feel the old magic coming back. He looked at her again - she was mid-to-late twenties. Dark hair hanging loose. She was curvy with a slim waist. Tall. His type.

  A couple in a booth opposite were grabbed by a bouncer, pushing them towards the exit. The guy struggled to do his flies up, the girl adjusting her skirt.

  Katie giggled. "What do you think they were up to?"

  "No idea."

  The barman put the drinks on the bar top, along with the change.

  Cullen nodded towards the booth. "Want a seat?"

  Katie grinned mischievously as she pounced on the bench.

  Cullen sat alongside her rather than opposite. Avoid eye contact. He put the drinks on the table.

  "Is that for me?"

  "Sure," He pushed one of the drinks over.

  She leaned forward, cleavage pushed up by her arms. She put her hands around the glass and raised an eyebrow. "After three, then… one, two, three."

  Cullen tipped the drink up, the shots and the Red Bull mixing when they hit his mouth, before slamming the glass down on the table at the same time as Katie. "That was good."

  "Yeah. Was that a Jaegerbomb."

  "A slag bomb."

  She laughed. "Never heard of that before."

  "Where are you based, Katie?"

  "The Royal Infirmary."

  "Right."

  "You've not said what you do."

  "I'm a police officer." He'd been tempted to lie but fuck it.

  "Oh, are you off tomorrow?"

  "No. Like I told you earlier, I'm a piss head."

  She laughed again. "My round. Jaegerbomb this time?"

  "Go for it."

  She sashayed to the bar.

  Cullen admired the wiggle. Her legs were pretty well toned - must be all the walking she did in the hospital.

  He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Skinky, we need to go."

  Rich stood there, face bloody, dabbing at his nose with some toilet paper, his white shirt stained red.

  Cullen jerked backwards. "What happened?"

  "That Ewan McGregor boy nutted me."

  "Are you all right?"

  "No, I'm not all right. Turns out he wasn't gay after all."

  Cullen raised an eyebrow. "Could've fooled me."

  "Aye, well, he did fool me."

  Katie reappeared, holding two tumblers with shot glasses inside. She smiled at Cullen then stared at Rich, open-mouthed. "Oh my God! What happened?"

  "Got head-butted."

  "I'm a nurse, I can sort this out." She put the glasses down on the table. "Let me have a look."

  Rich let his hand go.

  Katie prodded around with his nose, causing him to squeal twice.

  Rich motioned his head towards Cullen then Katie then the Jaegerbombs, a frown etched on his forehead.

  Cullen looked away.

  Katie patted his shoulder. "I don't think there's any lasting damage. You'd better go to the doctor, though. I'd be tempted to recommend A&E but I don't want you to take this hunk away from me."

  "This hunk is my flatmate and he's going to take me home." Rich's legs buckled and he had to support himself. "I'm in no fit state."

  Katie's eyebrows arched up. "I could come with you."

  Rich smiled. "I hope Scott hasn't been leading you on. He's just broken up with his long-term girlfriend and I wouldn't want him giving you any ideas."

  She turned to face Cullen. "Is this true?"

  Cullen rolled his shoulders. "I wasn't leading you on. I was just talking to you."

  "Fucking men." Katie downed her shot. "If you're a policeman then I suggest you arrest the guy who attacked your pal. As for me, I'm going. Nice speaking to you, Scott." She took Cullen's drink with her.

  "Bloody hell." Cullen looked up at Rich. "I'm lucky to have got away without a slap, right?"

  Rich slumped down in the booth across from him, tentatively rubbing his nose. "Where's my drink?"

  "Are you kidding? We should go."

  Rich's eyes danced around the bar. "The night's still young."

  "Aye, well, you're not going to trap any blokes looking like that."

  Rich looked down at his shirt. "I can wash it."

  "You said we need to go. You were right." Cullen led out of the bar, making for the cloakroom to retrieve Rich's overcoat.

  While they waited, Ewan McGregor headed their way, accompanied by a guy who looked like a young John Hannah.

  Cullen nudged Rich. "There's your boyfriend."

  "Fuck off."

  "His mate looks like John Hannah."

  "He looks fuck all like him." Rich grabbed his jacket. "Maybe the eyebrows."

  The two men were smoking outside. Ewan McGregor squared up to Rich. "Here's that fucking poof."

  "I'm a police officer and I'm not above arresting you for assault."

  "Just fucking try it. I can get the CCTV tapes of what your boyfriend was trying to do to me in there."

  "Let's just leave it. We've all had a fair amount to drink."

  Rich pointed a finger at him. "I don't think I'm finished with this one. I don't know whether to kick the shit out of him or fuck him."

  Cullen grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him away. "Come on." He led him up Hanover Street, towards George Street and hopefully some taxis.

  Rich shrugged away from Cullen. He turned to face back down Hanover Street and grabbed his crotch. "I'm going to fuck you, pal! Right up your fucking arsehole!"

 
The Ewan McGregor lookalike tossed his cigarette aside and started up the street towards them.

  Cullen flagged down the first available taxi.

  Tuesday

  9th October 2012

  CHAPTER 31

  Cullen lay in bed, bursting for a piss, sunlight penetrating his eyelids. His head was thumping, his mouth bone dry.

  His dream still lingered. He'd starred in a film with John Hannah and Ewan McGregor, a cross between The Mummy and Trainspotting.

  Rich was in it as well, kissing Ewan.

  John Hannah laughing at Cullen.

  Occasionally, the other Katie would appear - Cullen's ex - but she acted like Sharon, kissed Caldwell and got off with Ewan McGregor.

  He opened his eyes. The sunlight had crept from the open curtains right up to his bed. He glanced at the alarm clock.

  9.03.

  Shite.

  ***

  Cullen staggered into the Incident Room having broken at least two laws on his way in.

  He sniffed his armpits - the quick blast of Lynx in the car at the traffic lights on Leith Walk would sort him out.

  He spotted Buxton swearing at a laptop and made a beeline for him. "Seen Methven?"

  "Not since the briefing. He was looking for you, though. What did you think of it? You seemed to get off without that many actions."

  "Well, I'll be in the CCTV suite if he's looking for me."

  "Awake or asleep? You fucking stink of booze, mate."

  "Must be the new aftershave."

  "You haven't shaved, you cheeky fucker."

  Cullen left the Incident Room and headed to the canteen. He was tempted to try Bain's hangover cure again but he couldn't honestly say it had any effect on Saturday. The only thing that would help would be more lager. He made eye contact with Barbara and picked up a stick of chewing gum.

  A hand grabbed his shoulder. Methven. He tugged Cullen off towards bollocking corner. "You can forget about getting a sodding bacon butty." He pushed Cullen to sit opposite him. "Why weren't you at the briefing this morning?"

  "I was out in West Lothian speaking to a CHIS."