by Ed James
‘Our check-in’s like eighteen hours away or something.’
‘So if we finish up here at seven, then get some kip, head over at three in the morning, we’ll have plenty of time.’
He doesn’t look happy.
But he’s quiet, at least.
So I get out the placcy bag and pass over some chilled Gundog IPA. ‘Here.’
Art’s hungry fingers are inspecting the bottle, aren’t they? Filthy bastard.
‘Here.’ I hand him the bottle opener.
He uses it to twist the caps off the three bottles. ‘Oh, that is one sweet-ass action.’
‘You can keep it.’
He’s frowning at us. ‘It says “Dad” on it?’
‘My son’s dead to me.’
‘You wanna talk about it?’
‘Do I fuck.’
‘O-kay.’ Art sips the drink. ‘Now that is a mighty fine beer, even if I did brew it myself.’
‘What?’
‘Well, I work with Gundog. Help them perfect it, shall we say. Told them to put citra hops in and—’ He blinks hard. Then again. The fuck? He rubs at his chest, left side too.
I put my beer back down, un-drunk. ‘You okay, bud?’
‘My chest’s—’ He rubs at his wattle neck. ‘Some difficulty breathing. Been going on for a week.’
‘Sounds like more than hay fever, bud. And it’s too early in the year for it to hit that bad. You should be in hospital.’
‘Hospital? That’s where all the sick people are.’ Art’s still rubbing his chest. ‘I just gotta drain the lizard.’ He gets up, but he’s coughing really badly now, gasping for fuckin’ air. And he’s pressing his chest like he’s fuckin’ dying. And grimacing.
‘Elvis, he’s having a fuckin’ heart attack!’
5
Cullen
Cullen sipped from his coffee cup as he walked along the corridor. Bitter and harsh, but it fitted his mood to a T. He turned the corner and almost bumped into Lauren. ‘Watch it!’
‘Oh, sorry.’ She was still staring at her phone. ‘See they’ve announced a lockdown in New York?’
Cullen shut his eyes and let out a deep sigh. He knew something like that would happen, tried to warn you know who but would the daft sod listen? He reopened his eyes and took another sip of coffee, though it tasted slightly sweeter. ‘Where’s Happy Jack?’
‘Our friend and his wives are in that hotel on…’ She clicked her fingers a few times. ‘What’s the street up from Portobello? Near the park?’
‘By the new school?’
‘Yes.’
‘Duddingston Park?’
‘That. There’s a chain hotel that’s being repurposed as a homeless shelter.’
Cullen finished his coffee and tossed the empty in the recycling. ‘Good to hear.’
‘Angela’s still up there with them.’ Lauren wrapped her arms around her torso. She seemed to be in a constant state of shivering. ‘She’s good, isn’t she?’
‘The best.’ Cullen couldn’t help but smile. ‘Worked with her since she was in uniform. Hated it when she quit, but it’s great having her back.’
‘Thanks for letting me have her on my team. How’s Craig?’
‘Up at the infirmary.’
‘Ouch.’ She grimaced. ‘Can’t believe that sick bugger spat in his mouth.’
‘I know.’ Still made Cullen’s gut lurch. ‘Hard to imagine much worse.’
‘We okay to interview him if he has got Covid-19?’
‘Methven cleared it. Need to book a deep clean afterwards, mind.’
‘Well, just as well I got these.’ Lauren reached into a bag and held up a mask. ‘Not the full N95 shebang, but it’ll help shield us from the worst of it.’
‘Great.’ Cullen took his and tried to fit it on. But he couldn’t get it to attach to his ears quite right. ‘Buggering thing.’
Lauren already had hers on. ‘You look the type of man who doesn’t like wearing a condom.’ At least that’s what he thought she said.
Cullen decided to let it pass. Didn’t want her to know about his abject fear of getting anyone pregnant. ‘Never thought we’d be interviewing people like we were attending a crime scene.’
She reached over and got it to tuck behind his left ear. ‘You ready?’
‘Sure.’ Cullen opened the door for her.
Inside, Keith Ross sat on his own, head bowed and gripping his knees like he was on a particularly turbulent flight.
‘Actually, can you get it rolling? I need to make a call.’ Cullen stepped away and by the time she was in and recording, the door had slid shut.
And the call was answered. ‘Forensic Investigations.’
‘Hey, it’s Scott.’
Charlie Kidd sighed down the line. Never one to hide his feelings, but this was naked hostility. ‘I’m not done with it.’
‘But you are doing it?’
‘For what it’s worth, aye.’
‘And?’
‘And what?’
Cullen shot back with a sigh of his own. ‘Are you getting anything from it?’
‘Just so we’re clear, what’s the “it” I’m supposed to be getting something from?’
‘That little USB drive we found in his pocket.’
‘Right.’ Some loud clicking in the background. ‘Not sure what there is to get. I’m just opening it and there’s… nothing.’
‘Nothing?’
‘Aye. It’s like there’s not even nothing too. It’s not registering.’
‘Like I expected. Okay, can you bring it down to…’ Cullen checked the door, ‘…room three?’
‘Now?’
‘No, next Tuesday at half past three.’ Another sigh. ‘Of course I mean now.’
‘Right. Ten minutes.’
Before Cullen could complain, Charlie was gone. But they had more than enough to be getting on with in the meantime, so Cullen opened the door and walked in, staring hard at Keith Ross.
The big guy wasn’t looking at anything other than his size thirteens. Cullen wasn’t even sure he had his eyes open. Unmasked, he was sporting a chunky beard, not far off the length needed for entry to the average craft beer tap room on Lothian Road. The slogan on his T-shirt was distorted by his man boobs, but looked like it read “COVID-5G”.
‘Afternoon, Keith.’ Still didn’t make eye contact. ‘Nice T-shirt.’
That worked. Keith looked up, and his pupils were like saucers. Guy was baked. Cullen couldn’t smell anything from him, but Keith looked a few bong loads into a major stoner session. Bit of a surprise that he’d set fire to the mast instead of himself. But he still didn’t say anything.
‘I see you’ve descended even further down the conspiracy rabbit hole since our last meeting.’
Keith frowned. ‘Do I know you?’
‘You’re the cleaner at the Ashworth’s in—’
‘Oh, I remember you now. Christ. Where’s the wee fanny with the shaved head?’
‘He’s not here. But DS Reid and myself are.’ Cullen scraped back the chair and perched on it. ‘So. You want to tell us what you were up to on that roof?’
‘Nope.’
‘That whole “it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court” thing, right?’
‘Pretty much. I know my rights.’
‘Hope you’ve got a good lawyer.’
‘Don’t need one.’
‘Sure about that?’
‘They’re all shysters in cahoots with the deep state.’
So anti-Zionism was entering the mix, if not outright antisemitism. ‘Lawyers always tell their clients to say “no comment”. Know why?’
Keith looked like he barely understood the words were English, let alone had an answer. ‘Why?’
‘Because then you can pay them to represent you at a trial. It’s like a car salesman telling you not to change your oil, means you buy more cars. Ideally from them.’
‘This is bollocks, man.’<
br />
‘What’s your message? What do you want to be known for? Burning a telephone mast? What’s your message for Reporting Scotland at half six tonight?’
‘It’s…’ Keith stared up at the ceiling and his Adam’s apple poked through the flab and stubble on his neck. He looked down at Cullen and it was like seeing a drunk sober up in seconds. Fire burnt in his eyes. ‘You know what those things are for?’
‘Enlighten me.’
‘This whole pandemic, it’s a tactic from the New World Order. This is them executing their plan to take over and install a World Government.’
‘That so?’
‘Don’t expect you to believe me.’
‘So how was burning a phone mast stopp—’
‘Those masts are transmitting Covid-19.’
‘How?’
‘It’s all on Google, just search for it.’
‘But sure if it’s a virus, that’s a biological entity that’s transmitted between people by various means. How does a mobile phone mast make that happen?’
‘It’s not a virus. That’s a myth. This fictional disease has the exact same symptoms as radiation poisoning.’
Cullen nodded for a few seconds. ‘You were very brave, then.’
‘Uh, why?’
‘Well, you and your mate went up on to that rooftop and got really close to the mast. Close enough to set fire to it. Must’ve put you in harm’s way.’
‘Thanks, man. Just trying to save others, eh?’
Part of Cullen wished it wasn’t this easy. But most of him was glad. ‘So you’re doing this because…?’
‘The NWO are killing people they don’t want. Okay? See who this…’ he did bunny ears ‘…this “virus” kills? Old people. People with underlying health conditions. People of BAME origin.’
‘Okay, so why don’t they target truth-tellers like you?’
‘Well, they do.’ Keith smirked. ‘That’s what’s going on here.’ He ran his finger between Cullen and Lauren. ‘You’re working for the man, trying to stop me. Aren’t you?’
‘Keith, we’re stopping you harming essential infrastructure.’
‘That mast is a biological weapon.’
‘No, Keith. It’s not even a 5G mast. Not the sort you’re talking about. Millimetre wave, right? Gigabit download speeds? Right?’
Keith stared at Cullen like he was Moses and he was getting an audience with Yahweh.
‘That flavour of 5G is the tech that’ll change a lot of things, but the nearest mast is on Bishopsgate in London. The 5G you’re targeting here is just an upgrade to 4G. Faster, but the same underlying technology.’
Keith’s mouth was still hanging open. Daft sod believed everything he heard, but didn’t check to see if any of it was true. ‘Where did you get that from?’
‘A friend who works in the sector. He’ll be along soon to answer any questions.’
‘Right.’ But Keith’s gaze was back up at the ceiling. Cullen had lost him again.
Time to move on. ‘How are those pills working for you?’
‘What pills?’
Cullen reached out and – bang on cue – Lauren handed him the first evidence bag. ‘Your pockets were full of these tablets.’
‘I want them back.’
‘So they are yours?’ Cullen inspected the blister pack closely. Looked professionally done. ‘So these “Anti-5G Pills” are supposed to “Protect you & your loved ones from the Jew World Orders PLAN”.’ He shook his head. ‘Jew World Order. Really?’
‘You want to look up the boy who—’
‘What’s in them?’
Keith shrugged. ‘Protects against 5G.’
‘Not Covid-19?’
‘Same thing.’
‘So what’s in them?’
‘Don’t know.’
‘See, there are some on sale that contain chloroquine diphosphate.’
‘Sounds right.’
‘You know what chloroquine diphosphate is used for?’
‘Anti-malaria, but it works against 5G.’
‘How long you been selling them?’
‘Not long. Just got hold of them on Monday.’
‘So you are selling them?’
‘Correct.’
‘You going to tell me who to, or do I have to go through your texts, calls and emails?’
Keith sniffed. Someone like him would have everything hidden behind a ton of encryption. But people like Charlie Kidd were getting better and better at outfoxing it. ‘Sold a ton to some boy out in Livingston. Few clients in Edinburgh too.’
‘Need names.’
‘Nope.’
‘Your mate will tell us, I suspect.’
Keith grinned. ‘You don’t even know his name, do you?’
Cullen felt a burning sensation up the back of his neck. ‘You know that to allegedly protect against Covid-19, you should be selling hydroxychloroquine sulfate.’ He shook the evidence bag. ‘These are for clearing out fish tanks. Kills the parasites living on some species. Trouble is, it has a tendency to kill people too.’
Keith’s mouth hung open. ‘What?’
‘People will die because of these pills.’
Keith was shaking his head. ‘Bullshit.’
‘You are a much bigger risk to public health and safety than any perceived threats, you stupid bastard.’ Cullen gave him a few seconds. ‘I thought your employer would be pretty busy just now, what with people panic-buying. Thought they’d need a cleaner.’
‘Place is full of sheep, man. Following the herd.’
‘Hell of a lot of cleaning going on just now, I imagine.’
‘Telling me, man.’
‘So why aren’t you at work?’
‘I’m self-isolating.’
‘So you have got Covid-19?’
‘Right.’
‘You’ve been tested?’
Keith frowned. ‘No. Erm, boss got me to call the doctor, right? Spoke to the boy, and he told me to stay at home. Know exactly how I caught it.’
Lauren rolled her eyes at Cullen. ‘No doubt there’s a 5G mast by the store?’
‘Hardly. Caught it from a customer.’ Keith dragged his gaze from the ceiling tiles to look at Cullen. ‘Remember the boy. Regular, old guy, came in and was checking out the reduced items, but he was coughing his lungs up, man. And I was supposed to clear away the produce, stick it in the bin. After what happened there last month, the boss is keen to get stuff cleared off quick smart.’ He sighed. ‘So I took these packets of mince, and they were like brown, but this boy wasn’t letting go. And he starts coughing really badly and I told him to get away but he wouldn’t. Five days later I’m coughing and burning up.’
Lauren flashed up her eyebrows. ‘Sounds like you’ve got it, alright.’
‘Must have, eh?’
Cullen had a slight amount of sympathy for him. An essential worker in a supermarket, subjected to that behaviour, then contracting it?
And Keith Ross’s mental health wasn’t the best to start with, hence a further plunge down the rabbit hole. Self-isolating in front of YouTube videos and the constant push towards more and more extreme content. And someone like him would know where else to access that material, the stuff they don’t want you to see and PLEASE buy my vitamin pills.
But still, he was way out of line. ‘So that’s why you decided to spit in DC Hunter’s mouth?’
Keith sat back, arms folded. ‘No comment, eh?’
‘While DC Hunter is pretty fit and healthy, his girlfriend is of BAME origin.’
‘Which is she? Black, Asian, Middle Eastern?’
‘Asian. Her family’s from Pakistan. Having to separate is going to be tough on them.’
‘I’d apologise, but he’s a tool of the state, man. You all are.’
The door opened and Charlie Kidd stepped in, his long ponytail dangling almost in sync with the evidence bag. ‘Finished that test, Scott.’
Cullen walked over to the door and took the bag from him with a wink that Keith couldn’
t see. ‘So?’
‘Well, it’s as we expected.’ He leaned in to whisper, ‘It’s ready.’
‘I want that back.’
Cullen turned round to face Keith but inspected the bag. Inside was a USB pen drive, the kind you’d store documents on. ‘Why? You pay a lot for it?’
‘Four hundred bar. And it’s important, man.’
Cullen raised his eyebrows. ‘What’s it supposed to do?’
‘It’s…’ And Keith looked sheepish now, running his hand over his mouth. ‘It’s a wearable holographic nano-layer catalyser.’
‘And what’s one of them?’
‘We were going to stick it on that mast to balance out the electric fog that causes the bug.’
‘So what happened?’
‘Well, we couldn’t find a USB port, so we just torched it.’
‘Huh.’ Through the bag, Cullen pulled the small device apart with a satisfying snap.
‘You’ve broken it!’
Cullen tossed the bag onto the table. ‘There’s nothing to break.’
‘That was four hundred quid!’
‘Keith, it’s just an empty box with a light on it. There’s no nano-layer catalyser. No nothing. And you paid four hundred quid for it.’
Keith was scratching his neck. ‘Shite.’
‘What’s up?’
‘It’s not just the one. I’ve got a hundred of them. Took out a loan to pay for it.’
Cullen wanted to laugh, but he wanted to stop this nonsense right here, right now. ‘Okay, so the people who sold you this, do you see how they’re exploiting you?’
Keith was nodding.
‘Right now, we can drop the charges for you doing what you did to that mast, but I’m going to need the name of your mate next door, and the ringleaders of the local anti-5G conspiracy group you’re in.’
‘But we’re fighting for freedom, man.’
‘No, you’re fighting for your own freedom here. I want a full confession.’
And he had him. Keith just sat there, head bowed. ‘Fine. I made the pills myself. Got hold of a big batch of fish tank cleaners, and I repackaged them.’
‘And you’ve been selling them?’
‘Just trying to help people, man!’
‘And you’re killing them.’
‘No, man.’
‘It might be unknowingly, but you’re still responsible. Now, I need the names of your collaborators.’