by Ed James
Wilkinson bellowed with laughter. "That's the first time I've heard you properly swear, lad."
"Well, I sodding wish it wasn't."
"Let's get on with this." Cargill sipped her latte.
Wilkinson frowned. "Get on with what?"
"Proving this case."
"We've got Smith on some charges. He'll go away for a couple of years."
"We need more concrete evidence, Paul. You and I both know that Kieron Bain or Dean Richardson are going to change their minds and recant their statements"
"Aye, that or contradict each other in court."
"Correct. We need more." Cargill turned to the whiteboard. In the centre she wrote Alexander Aitken then drew three main arrows away from it leading to Disappearance, Craig Smith and Kieron Bain. She tapped on Disappearance. "What do we know about Aitken vanishing?"
Cullen put his cup down. "He was picked up by a Land Rover Discovery we later found to have been scrapped."
Methven frowned. "Did that ANPR search ever come back?"
"Came back negative - no sightings of it."
"How could it have collected Aitken in South Gyle Crescent but wasn't picked up by any cameras until Ravencraig?"
Cullen shrugged. "There are a few ways to go if you want to avoid main roads. Plus something like that could head across fields with ease."
"Basically, we've got nothing on the car?"
"Nothing."
Cargill sucked her coffee. "What about Kieron Bain?"
"We know he's Gorgie Billy. We think he killed Liam Crossan."
"And he gave us Craig Smith." Cargill drew an arrow between Kieron and each of Crossan and Smith. She tapped the pen on Smith. "Other than stopping DS Methven from having any children, what else do we have on Craig Smith?"
"He's leading this hooligan firm." Wilkinson walked over and stood alongside her. "Soon as you lot are done with him, me and a few of my boys are going to give him a right going over about the network he's involved in."
"Anything specific?"
Wilkinson smiled. "Charlie Kidd's found another three fights on that chat room. Chelsea, Millwall and my Leeds boys. Makes me proud to be a Yorkshireman. Not."
"We really need to shut Schoolbook down." Cargill shook her head. "How is Smith's group organised in the real world?"
"We think they use Rangers supporters clubs as a front. They organise buses through to Ibrox every other week, perfect front for these hooligan meets."
"Do you know anyone else in this firm?"
"Nothing springs to mind. We might have something in the files."
Cullen stared at the board, his mind dancing between the boxes. "What about Aitken and Souness? They were from Ravencraig. Used to go to every Rangers game and they were at the quarry, too."
Wilkinson frowned. "You think they're in this group?"
"Maybe."
"Let's put it down." Cargill added Aitken and Souness, linking both to Smith. "Who else?"
"Dean Richardson."
Methven jangled his change. "The guy who stole your friend's mobile phone?"
"Right. He's a flatmate of Derek Miller, brother of the late Keith Miller."
Cargill wrote the names down, an arrow joining Derek to Richardson. She stared at the board for a few seconds before turning back to face the group. "We still don't know why Aitken was killed."
Cullen focused on the board, unable to keep his eyes away from Derek. He shouldn't be up there - he was Hibs, not Rangers.
Something tickled at the back of his brain, sent his synapses sparking. Something Derek had told him. "There were two homosexuals in Aitken's firm."
"Watch it with the homophobia." Cargill arched her eyebrows. "We've had quite enough already from DS Irvine."
"Who says I'm being homophobic? It's a possible lead. Derek told me the leader of the group found out he had gay members and wasn't impressed. Smith was ashamed two of his team were gay - you know what football is like, right? There aren't any openly gay footballers and those that come out end up having to retire."
Cargill nodded. "If the leader was Smith, you're saying the gays were Aitken and Souness?"
"They shared a flat." Methven clicked his fingers. "There were extra strong condoms in one of their drawers."
Methven frowned. "Didn't Souness attack someone as part of some homophobic assault?"
Cargill folded her arms. "Where did that come from?"
"Gavin Tait. He'd tried it on with Souness back in the day."
Cargill went back to the board. "We know Souness was stabbed by Gordon Beveridge at the quarry." She drew a line. "According to Kieron Bain, Aitken grabbed the knife from Beveridge then stabbed him. Souness bled to death in their flat. Aitken must have tried to care for him."
"He went to work, though."
Cargill shrugged. "Got to keep up appearances, I suppose." She tapped the board over Aitken. "Aitken has a girlfriend, right?"
Cullen nodded. "A young girl called Demi Baird. They were engaged."
"But they didn't live together?"
"No. Apparently because he was religious." Cullen finished his coffee. "Nothing in their flat suggested Aitken was particularly zealous. She might be a beard."
Cargill tutted. "I warned you about the homophobia."
Wilkinson frowned. "What's a bloody beard?"
Cullen grinned. "Certain men marry to hide the fact they're gay. Like Elton John?"
"He's married to a bloke, though."
"He married a woman in the eighties." Methven laughed. "What do you suggest we do?"
"Speak to her again." Cargill wrote Demi on the board. "See what we can glean from her."
Methven nodded. "I'll get Caldwell and Buxton to do it."
"DI Wilkinson and I will speak to DI Bain." Cargill looked at Cullen and Methven. "In the meantime, can you two interview Richardson about Smith? See if you can get him to link Smith to these killings."
"Will do."
"Try speaking to Gavin Tait again." Cargill led Wilkinson away.
Cullen got out his phone and dialled the number Tait had given him. Straight to voicemail. "Bastard. He's killed that phone number."
"Try again after the interview."
CHAPTER 52
"We've caught the ringleader of your group, Mr Richardson." Methven folded his arms. "Craig Smith."
Richardson glanced at his lawyer, Alistair Reynolds. "Really?"
"What, do you think it's someone else?"
Richardson grinned. "No, Craig's a respectable business man. I'm surprised he was the ringleader of a bunch of football hooligans."
"Don't play that game with us. We know you were there. We know you're involved. Mr Smith will be going away for a very long time."
Richardson didn't say anything.
Cullen opened his notebook. "Mr Richardson, did you know Kenny Souness and Alexander Aitken were lovers?"
Richardson looked away. "I don't know anything about that."
"What about if we were to drop the charges against you?"
"The phone charges?"
"Aye."
Richardson sniffed. "I might know something, but I'd want to speak to my solicitor."
"Well, he's here."
Reynolds smiled. "In private."
Methven paused the interview. "We'll be back in a few minutes, we expect you to be singing by the time we're back."
Outside into the corridor, Methven gave a deep groan. "I think I need to go to the doctor. My balls are still absolute sodding agony."
"I'd get them checked out. Not something you want to mess about with."
"No." Methven screwed his face up.
Cullen's phone rang - Caldwell. "Hi."
"We've just spoken to Demi, Scott."
"And?"
"When we spoke to her the first time, she was going on about Aitken being religious, right?"
"Yes."
"Well, she said it again. Seems to have already deified Aitken. He's an angel now, according to her. Anyway, turns out that they wer
e saving themselves for marriage."
"They'd never had sex?"
Methven raised a bushy eyebrow.
Cullen nodded at him.
"That's right."
Cullen swapped hands. "Could he have been using her as a beard?"
"She's not going to know if she was, is she? Unless there was some bloody contract between them, which I seriously doubt."
"Yeah, I think you're right. Thanks for heading out there." Cullen ended the call and glanced over at Methven. "Never had sex."
Methven grinned. "More evidence."
"Right." Cullen redialled Gavin Tait.
"Hello?"
"Gavin, it's Scott Cullen of Lothian & Borders. I need to ask you some questions. When would be a convenient time to get you into the station for a statement?"
"I've given my statement. When you didn't call me back, I thought you didn't want me any more."
Cullen ignored the innuendo, glad he didn't have it on speaker. "I need to know about your relationship with Kenny Souness."
"I told you."
"We've reason to believe Kenny was homosexual."
"It's no longer a crime."
"I'm not saying it is. I just need to know if you can confirm it for me. Did anything happen between the pair of you?"
"I think I told you I tried it on with him."
"That's right." Cullen flipped through his notebook, finding the notes from the last time he'd spoken to Tait. "He punched you and ran off."
Tait sighed down the line. "That's right."
"Are you sure?"
There was a long pause. "Maybe not."
"What happened, Gavin?"
"I think I told you I tried to kiss him. It was more than that. He kissed me back. It was a real Brokeback Mountain moment. Kenny was strong, he took control of me."
"What happened? Did you have sex?"
"Not quite. Xander caught us."
"What did he do?"
"He ran off. Kenny shouted after him, then he turned back to me and called me a poof. I said it takes one to know one. He punched me and said if I told anyone he'd kill me. Then he ran after Xander."
"You knew that they were an item?"
"An item?" Tait exhaled down the line. "I thought Kenny was worried Xander would tell people. Are you saying they were both gay?"
"It appears that way. Why didn't you tell anyone?"
"When Kenny said he'd kill me, I believed him."
"Why didn't I hear any of this on Friday?"
"I've got to keep some things in my back pocket."
"What about the second time you saw him? In the pub toilets?"
"He thanked me for not telling anyone. I was pretty pissed so I said I might mention it. He came right over and pushed me against the wall. He grabbed me by the balls and said if anyone found out I'd lose them. He called me a cheap rent boy and said I'd lose my biggest assets."
"What did you do?"
"I think I cried and pissed all over my shoes. There's only so long you can keep up the hard man act when a psychopath has your balls in his hands. He punched me and left."
Cullen stayed silent for a few seconds, thinking. "I need you to go to a police station and give a statement covering everything we've said. It's important. Otherwise, I'll come and see you myself."
"Still haven't recovered from the last time."
"I'm serious. I need you to do it right away. There's a station just up from where you live. Remember, it's Scott Cullen in A Division of Lothian & Borders."
"Fine, I'll do it."
"Thanks." Cullen ended the call. "Tait just told me Souness was gay. Kissed him back. Xander saw them at it."
Methven grinned and motioned towards the interview room door. "Let's get back in."
They returned to their seats.
Methven recommenced the interview. "Have you had your chat?"
Richardson nodded. "Aye, we have."
"And?"
"What's the deal here?"
"The charges will be dropped relating to the theft of one Samsung Galaxy S3."
Reynolds shook his head. "I'd love to know how you can arrange that."
Cullen folded his arms. "I can, because your client nicked it off my flatmate."
"Fine." Reynolds waved with his fingers.
"The charges will be dropped if it leads to a useful piece of information which helps secure the conviction of Mr Smith."
Richardson creased his forehead. "Go on, then."
Methven got the interview going again. "Mr Richardson, can you confirm what you know about the relationship between Mr Alexander Aitken and Mr Kenneth Souness?"
Richardson took a deep breath. "They were poofs."
Cullen swallowed. "You mean homosexual?"
"Aye, that."
"How do you know?"
"Saw them. Just after that Kenny boy got slotted at the quarry."
"What were they doing?"
"They were all smoochy, kissing and cuddling. Aitken was saying 'I'll protect you,' shite like that."
"And this was before you saw Mr Aitken stab Gordon Beveridge?"
"Aye, it was. He grabbed the knife and stabbed him. Then he took Souness away, back to their fucking love nest, I'd wager."
Cullen looked round at Methven and spoke in a deliberately loud whisper. "What do you reckon? It's not much, is it?"
Methven returned it. "I can't see us getting away with dropping those other charges."
Richardson leaned forward, his eyes dancing all over the place. "I can tell you more."
Cullen echoed the posture, leaning across the table. "Oh aye?"
"Aye. I told Craig Smith about it."
"And did Mr Smith do anything with that information?"
Richardson raised his hands. "That's as far as my part of the story goes."
CHAPTER 53
"This is from Dean Richardson." Cargill tossed the written and signed statement in front of Craig Smith and Campbell McLintock, his lawyer.
Smith swallowed hard, nibbling his bottom lip. His hands were cuffed together and he lay them on the desk.
McLintock picked up the statement and started reading.
Cullen stood off to the side, avoiding looking at anyone in particular, just listening in.
Cargill flattened her hands on the table. "Mr McLintock, what I've presented to you will stand up in court. We've a signed statement showing Mr Smith had knowledge of a homosexual relationship amongst members of the football hooligan outfit he led." She tossed over a transcript of an interview with Derek Miller. "We have it from a separate source that Mr Smith wasn't pleased with this news."
"You think this will stand up in court?"
Cargill smiled. "I know it will."
"This is all hearsay, Inspector."
"We've enough to send Mr Smith away for a long time. This is your chance to make good on all your public proclamations and save taxpayers money."
Smith hugged his arms tight to his torso. "I'm saying nothing."
"Fine, then it's a matter for the courts." Cargill smiled at McLintock. "Do you have faith your client's version of events will stand up? We've checked and he has no alibis for the nights in question. We do have statements pointing to his guilt. That's a risk to your reputation, Campbell, as much as anything."
McLintock nodded slowly. "It is up to my client to listen to my advice and then act accordingly."
Smith drummed his fingers on the table. "I'm saying nothing."
Cullen rubbed the back of his neck. "Why did you run?"
Smith turned to look at him. "Come again?"
"We came to arrest you at your car showroom and you fled. That's pretty guilty behaviour."
"Let's just say I've got a healthy dislike of police officers."
"So you're denying any involvement in the deaths of Alexander Aitken and Kenneth Souness?"
"No comment."
"You're responsible for the deaths of two young men. It might help us understand if you could tell us why."
Smith
sat and glowered. "I'm not standing for it."
Cullen frowned. "For what?"
"Nothing." Smith looked away.
"For getting beaten by Hibs and Celtic fans?"
Smith laughed it off. "No comment."
"Having homosexuals in your outfit?"
Smith glared at him. "I'm not having my firm infested with poofters."
"You're referring to Mr Aitken and Mr Souness?"
"Aye. I'm not having a pair of bufties in my team. Don't want the rest of the lads to catch it."
"Catch what?"
"Being gay. The pair of them will try to suck all my lads' cocks. I'm not standing for it."
"We've reason to believe they were in a relationship since their teens."
Smith scowled. "That's shite. Aitken was engaged to be married. Souness must've turned him into a poof."
Cullen smirked. "As far as I'm aware, homosexuality isn't like vampirism, it's not something that can be caught."
"Fucking AIDS is, though." Spittle formed at the side of Smith's mouth. "They're all at it, fucking each other all the fucking time. Makes me fucking sick. Fucking poofs."
"Neither victim was HIV positive." Cullen folded his arms. "It happens to heterosexuals as well."
Smith got to his feet and pointed a finger at Cullen. "Are you one? If you are, I want some proper officers in here."
The PCSO stood to attention, readying himself to jump in.
McLintock reached over and grabbed hold of Smith's arm. "Sit down."
Smith stabbed the digit at McLintock. "I'll stand if I fucking like. This prick here's trying to tell me it's okay for a bunch of Scottish hard men to have a pair of nancy boys in their number."
Cullen cleared his throat. "Sit down."
Smith complied, shaking his head as he did so. "Fucking poofs."
"Is that enough reason to have them killed?"
"They made the rest of us look weak. All over the message boards across Scotland, people are talking about how the Ravencraig Rangers firm let a pair of jessies in. I'm the fucking laughing stock of this great nation."
"You had them killed because of their sexuality?"
"Aye, I did. That little bastard Kieron Bain told you about it, didn't he? I knew I shouldn't have trusted him. Shouldn't have got the little toerag to drive it off the edge of that fucking bing."
"So Kieron killed him?"