Ghost in the Machine: An edge-of-your-seat serial killer thriller (DC Scott Cullen Crime Series Book 1)

by Ed James

  The blow sent him sprawling.

  Cullen tumbled and slid to the edge of the roof. He stopped himself just in time, his fingers clawing at the roof felt and eventually grabbing hold of the gutter pipe. His face hung over the edge, nothing between him and the car park below.

  He pushed himself away, reaching round to feel the back of his head. It was wet. His hand was covered in blood.

  Wilson was coming towards him, carrying a broken slate dripping with blood.

  Cullen tried to pull himself to his feet, but his legs failed to respond.

  "Thought you were pretty smart, didn't you?" said Wilson. "Finally caught up with me? Well, after I've finished with you, I'll go back and finish my work downstairs. Your friend down there can't have much time left. And as for your bird, well, I'll take my time with this one."

  Cullen's feet slipped on the moss, preventing him from getting up.

  Wilson was almost on him. "Should have brought my knife with me, but it's hanging out of your mate's guts. Had to buy a new one, can you believe it? This slate will do just fine."

  "Why did you do it?" Cullen was desperately trying to buy time. His feet slipped again.

  "Why does anyone do anything?" said Wilson. "Because they can. And because they can get away with it."

  From this angle, Wilson seemed gigantic. Cullen could never beat him in an even fight.

  "You won't get away with it. You'll have killed two police officers. They'll hunt you all over the world."

  "Yeah?" Wilson smiled. "Oh well."

  He raised the slate over his head, ready to bring it down on Cullen. He kicked out wildly, his left foot connecting to Wilson's knee with a satisfying crunch.

  Wilson screamed, then staggered forward. He landed on Cullen. Wilson's fists started pounding into him - fire burned in his chest, head and arms. He couldn't breathe. He felt something snap in his chest. His whole body seared with pain.

  Wilson straddled him and picked up the slate, ready to smash it down on Cullen's head.

  Cullen brought his left knee up as hard as he could, sending a jolt of pain through his own body. It connected with something soft.

  Cullen brought his knee up again. Wilson squealed and slumped forward, a dead weight. Cullen struggled to roll him off, his ears ringing from Wilson's yells. Ignoring the pain in his chest, he struggled to his feet.

  Wilson rolled over and tried to get up. Cullen stumbled towards the ladder, sliding on the slippery roof.

  Cullen heard Wilson behind him. He turned - Wilson had picked up the slate again. He staggered towards Cullen and swung the slate at his head. He lurched back, just avoiding the blow. He lost his footing and slid towards the edge of the roof again. He managed to stop himself and scrambled to his feet. He looked around. Wilson was limping towards him slowly, almost casually.

  It had all come to this one moment. Wilson had killed four people. Miller lay dying, Cullen was next, then Alison.

  Cullen edged up the slope. Wilson circled, holding the slate out in front of him like a knife. Cullen slid forward on the moss and kicked out. He connected solidly with Wilson's damaged knee. The knee buckled and Wilson pitched forward.

  Cullen leapt onto Wilson and grabbed him in a half Nelson hold, arm locked tight behind his neck, his knee hard into the small of Wilson's back, immobilising him.

  Cullen reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his mobile. He called Bain with one hand, the other gripping Wilson tight.

  "Where the fuck are you?"

  "Not far away," said Bain. "Two minutes."

  "I've got him on the roof." Cullen ended the call. "Duncan Wilson, I'm arresting you for the murder of Caroline Adamson. You are not obliged to say anything but anything you do say will be noted down and may be used in evidence. Do you understand?"

  ninety-five

  They were back at the station, standing outside the interview room with McNeill. DS Holdsworth, in his remit as First Aid officer, patched up Cullen's head. His ribs burned but he didn't want to go to hospital until he'd spoken to Wilson.

  Keith Miller had been rushed off to the Royal infirmary - it was touch and go at best.

  "I want to be in there," said Cullen.

  "Sundance, you're in no fit state to be interviewing anyone."

  "I don't care," said Cullen. "I need to hear his words. I'll sit at the back."

  Bain raised his arms in the air. "Come on, then."

  Cullen smiled. "Thank you. How's Alison?"

  "Your bird?" said Bain. "She'll pull through."

  A frown passed over McNeill's face.

  "Did they find anything in his flat?" said Cullen. "Any evidence? There are two missing laptops."

  Bain shared a long look with McNeill then slowly nodded. "Aye, we found something. Not the laptops, though."

  "What then?"

  "We think we've found Caroline's flat keys," said Bain. "Irvine's around there now, checking they fit the locks."

  Cullen breathed a sigh of relief. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

  "Eh?"

  "Aren't you going to apologise to me?" said Cullen.

  Bain put his hands on his hips. "Don't fuckin' push it, Sundance. I'll say you did some good work there. I do need to give you a doing about something, though."

  Cullen sighed. "What?"

  "Doing more unauthorised phone checks," said Bain.

  "Gail's number, right?"

  "Right."

  "Did anything come back?" said Cullen.

  "A fuckin' huge bill." Bain gave a deep breath. "Tommy traced it to a phone from the same consignment as that one for Caroline."

  "You're kidding me."

  "No, it was in the next transaction at that till," said Bain. "You fuckin' missed that one. Our killer bought two phones in separate transactions."

  Cullen ran his hand through his hair. His head throbbed when he touched the bandage. "So that links the killer to Gail and Caroline."

  "Got it in one," said Bain.

  "And Rob Thomson?"

  "I've let him go." Bain laughed bitterly. He thumbed towards the interview room. "We may have to use him as a witness against this chump."

  "Just hope he doesn't sue," said Cullen.

  "Aye." Bain rubbed his moustache. "The reason I was on the phone to Tommy Smith was to get a trace on that 999 call."

  "And?"

  "Untraceable," said Bain. "He did ask me where I wanted the bill sent, which pissed me right off, so I got him talking."

  "Well, some good came of it," said Cullen.

  "Aye, I suppose," said Bain. "Right, let's get in there and interview him."

  ninety-six

  Bain and McNeill were leading the interview. Cullen sat at the back of the room behind Bain, with PC Buxton by the door.

  "I will refer you to the point about police brutality, Inspector Bain." McLintock wore a more sober outfit than when he'd defended Rob Thomson. "Your officer gave chase to my client and then assaulted him."

  "And I'll remind you that your client had just stuck a knife in another of my officers," said Bain. "The incident you're referring to was actually your client clattering an officer on the head with a slate as the officer popped his head out of a roof hatch."

  "Inspector, my client has suffered a severe injury to his knee and his shoulder as a result of the attentions of one of your men," said McLintock.

  "Your client had the victim of a kidnapping in his bedroom with the probable intention of murdering her," said Bain. "And that's in addition to the four murders we intend charging him with. So let's cut out all of this rubbish, shall we?"

  Bain looked over at Wilson. He sat there expressionless. Cullen hoped there was no last minute surprise in store to get him off.

  "Mr Wilson, I'm going to charge you with the murders of Caroline Adamson, Deborah Curtis, Gail McBride and Kimberly Milne. I hope to God I don't have to add Keith James Miller to that list. I'm also going to charge you with the abduction of Alison Carnegie and the assault on DC Cullen here. Have you g
ot anything to say in your defence?"

  Wilson shrugged. "Nothing."

  There was a knock at the door. Buxton opened it and took a paper message from the uniform on the other side. He moved over and spoke a few words into Bain's ear, but Cullen didn't catch it.

  "You do know we've found keys in your flat?" said Bain. "We've just confirmed they're for the door to the flat belonging to Caroline Adamson."

  McLintock exchanged a look with Wilson. "Inspector, I'd like to confer with my client in private."

  Bain slowly got to his feet and spoke into the recorder, pausing the interview. He pointed at Buxton by the door. "He's staying." He led Cullen and McNeill out. Cullen shut the door behind them.

  "What's he doing?" said McNeill.

  "I don't think it's good news, Butch" Bain rubbed his moustache. "He's going to try and whitewash us. This is classic McLintock - he'll try and discredit us, suggest or infer a plant. We've got him with those keys. Any jury's going to convict on those grounds alone."

  "Can't believe he's representing both of them," said Cullen.

  Bain nodded. "He doesn't give a flying fuck about ethics. He's just after the cash." He looked at McNeill. "I want to get a line-up in front of that boy who saw him in the street ASAP, but with this Wilson boy in it instead of Rob Thomson."

  "Will do."

  "All of the circumstantial evidence you've got for Rob backs it up, though," said Cullen. "They're dead ringers, especially at a distance."

  "You might be right," said Bain.

  "How do you want to play it?" said McNeill.

  "See what he says, I suppose," said Bain. "We've got him by the bollocks here."

  Buxton opened the door and nodded at Bain. "They're ready for you."

  Bain led them back into the room and restarted the interview. "So Mr Wilson, do you have anything to say?"

  "My client would like to say a few words," said McLintock.

  Wilson looked between Bain and McNeill, directly at Cullen. "I'll admit to the abduction."

  "I'm not accepting that," said Bain. "We're throwing the whole book at you."

  Wilson looked at the table. When he looked up, it was at Cullen. "I'd like to hear what DC Cullen's got to say about all of this. He caught me, after all."

  Bain looked round at Cullen and nodded.

  Cullen didn't know what was going on - did Wilson think he was Moriarty and Cullen was Holmes? He took a few seconds to put his thoughts in order. "You made a couple of mistakes."

  Wilson tilted his head at him. "I did, did I?"

  "The death threats," said Cullen. "That was your big mistake. You told us Rob had threatened Caroline. You hoped that would push us towards charging him. It almost worked. But nobody backed you up, though. You made another mistake - you said on the phone Kim Milne told you about the death threats when you'd just killed her."

  "Anything else?" said Wilson.

  "The keys we found in your flat," said Cullen. "They linked you to all of the murders. But if you hadn't made up the story about the death threats, we'd never have found them. Shame we didn't find the laptops you stole."

  Wilson smirked. "So why did I do it all, then?"

  Cullen took his time, framing his words carefully. "I think you killed these women to get your revenge on Rob Thomson. He took Kim away from you. You lost your job because of him. And that messed you up."

  He took a deep breath.

  "You stalked Caroline on the Schoolbook site, read her private messages. You contacted her posing as Martin Webb and eventually persuaded her to meet you. You used an image from a male model website as the profile photo. You set up a false paper trail that led us nowhere. You bought a Pay As You Go mobile phone, which we traced from CCTV footage. You dressed in clothing that made you look like Rob Thomson if you were spotted."

  He took another deep breath and fiddled with his bandage. "I'll admit I'm struggling to understand why you killed Gail and Debi. But you killed Kim Milne to frame it all on Rob Thomson. You wanted him caught red-handed."

  "Very good," said Wilson. "Carry on, I'm enjoying this."

  "You could have done a much better job of framing Rob Thomson, though. You didn't leave any DNA evidence linking him to the crimes and you didn't leave a breadcrumb trail on Schoolbook. That would have been the clincher. I wouldn't have doubted your trail if it had led straight to one of Rob's computers. And I wouldn't have doubted the stupid death threats story you'd put out there."

  Wilson burst out laughing. "I'll remember that for next time I kill someone's girlfriend."

  "Mr Wilson, these allegations are unsubstantiated," said McLintock. "You do not have to respond to them until they are laid before you in court, in front of a judge and jury."

  Wilson shrugged. "I think they've probably got enough on me now." He stared at Cullen. "Okay, I did it. I killed them all." He looked at McLintock. "I'll save the taxpayer a load of money by not having some long, drawn out court case. Besides, I think Rob's suffering enough now and that was always the main thing. His beloved is dead. I really, really don't care. I can take prison."

  Bain and McNeill shared a look.

  "How did you do it?" said McNeill.

  "Like Cullen said there, I used Schoolbook," said Wilson. "It was actually pretty easy. They were all on there. Everyone I needed, everything I needed. All of this led from Rob."

  "Was this all about revenge?" said Bain.

  "Yes." Wilson twitched slightly. "Rob took everything I had. My girlfriend, my job, my whole life. And for what? He just wanted to screw Kim, that's all. I was really happy with her, you know? Then Rob Thomson comes swooping in, steals her from me and sacks me." He took a deep breath.

  "How did he sack you?" said McNeill.

  "I was on long-term sick from the bank, struggling with what happened." Wilson rubbed the stubble on his head. "I had built up a future with her in my head and this bastard steals it all away. One day, I was called in for my catch-up interview - which should have been done at my house - and it turned out it was with Rob. That was totally out of order. I lost it with him. There was another guy there and he had to drag us apart. They had me on a disciplinary by the end of the day. Gave me a month's notice and that was it."

  "Tell me about Caroline," said McNeill.

  "Caroline was the first and the hardest." Wilson took a sip from the glass of water on the table. Cullen had no doubt Bain would have the glass kept for forensics. "She was very cagey on Schoolbook. I knew her pretty well - we used to double date a lot, you know. It seems funny now, doesn't it? I set up the Martin Webb profile to snare her. Took a few months but I got to her in the end. The messages got quite racy. I managed to skip a few stages from a traditional relationship. We went straight to meeting in a hotel."

  "And this was to frame Rob?" said Bain.

  "Yes" Wilson took another sip. "Kim was the second easiest. I knew Jenny was going away, so I set that up pretty well. I was hiding in the stairwell, upstairs from their flat, when Rob came in. The police came in just after that. That 999 call was a good effort."

  "Who was the easiest?" said Bain.

  Wilson folded his arms. "That'll be Debi Curtis. She just walked right into it. She actually started it off by flirting with Martin Webb. Caroline and I had the message thing going on and she got involved. She started messaging me. It got pretty intense. I was tempted to let her go, but I thought I should get some practice in."

  "So that was you running away?" said Bain.

  Wilson laughed. "Yeah. Almost got caught there."

  "What about Gail?" said Bain.

  Wilson crushed the cup in his fist. "Gail should have stopped those two getting together. I was disappointed with her. She had always struck me as being someone with morals. She should have stopped Rob and Kim. And she didn't."

  "So you killed her?" said Cullen.

  Wilson smirked. "Yes."

  "And you knew her?" said Cullen.

  Wilson laughed. "No. I never met her in my life until I killed her. But the wa
y Kim talked about her, it felt like I knew her."

  "Why did you go after Alison?" said Cullen.

  "She was an insurance policy," said Wilson. "You were getting too close. I knew I could get at you through her if things started to go the wrong way."

  "Were you going to kill her?" said Cullen.

  "I think so," said Wilson. "Probably this evening. Disposing of the body would've been a challenge, but I would have found a way."

  "One thing I don't get," said Bain, "is how you managed to do all that stuff on Schoolbook."

  Wilson looked down his nose at Bain. "That was the easy part. You just run a daemon that tweaks the audit records. The Schoolbook boys do it themselves all the time, usually as practical jokes, or to cover tracks of some illicit activity."

  "What about the CCTV?" said Cullen.

  Wilson looked at the ceiling and smiled. "CCTV. You cops love it. I suggested Gail get Sian to cover for her. I'd seen their messages. You know, they were on there all day at work, chatting when they should have been working. She suggested the cover story about the train. That way I got you looking in entirely the wrong place for a while."

  "That's not what I meant," said Cullen.

  Wilson frowned. "Well, what did you mean?"

  "The CCTV in Tesco," said Cullen. "We thought it showed Thomson buying the mobile phone - how did you know he was at Alba Bank Mortgage Centre, not far from the Tesco?"

  Wilson nodded. "Oh, yes. Very simple. I called his PA, pretended I worked at the Mortgage Centre, and she told me his itinerary. She didn't even check."

  "So your entire plan was to frame Rob Thomson for all of this?" said Bain.

  "It almost worked," said Wilson.

  "Why not just kill him?" said Bain.

  "Where's the suffering in that?" Wilson's eyes were on fire as he spoke. "If I killed him it would've been too quick. If I'd tortured him, it would still be too quick. I lost everything. I wanted him to lose everything and have to endure his life without those things."

  ninety-seven