by Ed James
Amy gave him a meek nod. Cullen expected her to vomit. But no. Calm as you like. ‘Why… why wasn’t he put away?’
‘Because Dean Vardy leaves no traces, Amy. He’s run a criminal empire for five years, going from street dealing in Leith to running half of Edinburgh’s drugs, all laundered through his bookies, his taxi firm, a pub and a club on George Street as well as your strip club. Not to mention the number of hits he’s ordered. And he’s progressed to murdering people himself. We’re going to take him down. The only question is, who’s going down with him.’ Cullen gave her a pointed stare. ‘We were going to prosecute him for his drug empire, but now we can get him for murder. But we need you to help.’
Amy flinched. ‘I can’t.’
‘Then when Vardy gets off with Xena’s murder…’ Cullen pushed the worst picture even closer to Amy.
Amy stared at the photograph. ‘I… I don’t know what to do.’
Cullen lowered his voice. ‘If you don’t testify against Vardy, he’ll get off. Again.’
She just shut her eyes, turned in on herself.
Cullen leaned forward and tapped the photo. ‘You can make sure this never happens again. To you or any of your mates at the club.’
Amy shuddered. Something in her seemed to give. She shoved the photo back across the table and opened her eyes to look up at Cullen. ‘Right, I’ll do it. I’ll testify.’
Cullen leaned back. ‘You’ll confirm that you saw Vardy shoot Xena?’
Amy nodded. ‘Right in front of me.’ Her eyes shifted back to the photographs and shuttled between them, faster and faster. ‘He… he shot her right in front of me. So I ran out of the flat and straight through the next open door and into Sammy’s bedroom and that’s where… that’s where I heard another two shots.’ She jerked her head up as though waking from a violent nightmare. ‘And then you showed up.’
4
Cullen knocked on the door and waited. Took a look around the office space, still empty. The rest of the team must still be at the crime scene.
What a bloody mess.
The security door clunked open and Wilkinson stood there, glowering. ‘Congratulations, champ.’ He play-punched Cullen’s shoulder. ‘This one’s on you. Only a year to kibosh a long-running undercover investigation and get an innocent woman killed in the process.’
Cullen gritted his teeth. ‘Sir, I wanted to move in on Vardy before he shot the woman, but you overruled me.’
‘Doesn’t change a thing.’ Wilkinson slouched into his office and collapsed into his chair. He leaned back and gave Cullen the once over. ‘It’s plain to me that you don’t suit this kind of work, Sergeant. In the drugs squad we don’t close cases with your strong-arm tactics. We close them with due diligence and patience. A shit ton of patience.’ He paused.
Cullen knew the power play – had seen it so many times over the years. Wilkinson was waiting for Cullen to say something, to give him the satisfaction of an argument, to offer some fightback that might distract him from his own failings as the lead investigator.
So Cullen just stood there. ‘Sir, we’ve tried nailing Vardy any number of times, and from any number of angles, but he always slips away.’
‘You know the second bloody recorder packed in? Can’t hear shit on it. Supposed to be in the bedroom so we can hear it all, get Vardy on the record, but no. Did you have anything to do with that?’
‘What? No, of course I didn’t.’ Cullen put his hands in his pockets, tightening them into fists. ‘I’ve persuaded Amy Forrest to go on the stand.’
‘Under other circumstances I’d buy the team enough beer to get Brian Bain grinding his hips. A woman’s dead, so it doesn’t feel like the time to celebrate.’
‘No, sir.’ Cullen folded his hands behind his back, waiting to be dismissed.
‘Alright then, back to—’
Someone put a hand on Cullen’s shoulder. ‘Scott, do you mind?’ DI Bill Lamb stood there, hands on hips, chin jutting out. With the goatee, sharp suit and striking pose, he looked every bit like a Musketeer challenging Cullen to a swordfight. A sharp flick of the wrist made Cullen step aside. Lamb charged over to the desk and went forehead-to-forehead with Wilkinson. ‘Need a word about my case.’
‘What?’ Wilkinson stood there, hands on hips like he was drawing his own sword. ‘Since when was this your case?’
‘Since Xena Farley got shot.’ Lamb took a few steps back, not quite a hundred paces. ‘Your remit ends the minute you let someone get murdered, you daft bastard. This is now an MIT case.’
‘My arse.’ Wilkinson puffed out his chest. ‘Like I just told Sergeant Cullen here, I’ve been working this case for donkeys and I won’t have anyone interrupt my—’
‘Enough!’ Lamb spun round to Cullen. ‘Going to give us a minute?’
Cullen sat down at his desk in the Operation Venus bull pen. The open plan office was now buzzing with activity, phones ringing, fingers clacking against keyboards, the usual suspects scrawling on a white board like that was work. He plugged a pair of headphones into his computer and played the audio they got from the wire in Amy’s flat.
The sound quality was woeful. Distorted, tinny, quiet. He turned the volume up as far as it would go, tuned out the background office noise, and focused. Someone had knackered the recorder in the bedroom, which made this next to useless. Most of the dialogue sounded like it was from the bottom of a well.
‘Why… why don’t we slow things down a wee bit, eh?’ Amy, sounding like she was setting up Vardy, now Cullen knew of her plan.
‘Slow down?’ Vardy hadn’t cottoned on yet. ‘Slow—’
Bain yanked the headphones out of Cullen’s ears. ‘What are you listening to, Sundance?’ He stood right behind him, holding the cans up to his own ears. ‘You filthy bastard. Your ongoing quest to complete Pornhub, eh?’
‘Piss off.’ Cullen twisted around and snatched the headphones back. Two female colleagues turned their heads the other way. Didn’t recognise either. One looked a lot like Yvonne, Craig Hunter’s ex-girlfriend, but at a glance he couldn’t be sure, and he didn’t want to stare at her after what she’d just heard. He looked back at Bain and dropped his voice to a murmur. ‘What are you doing here?’
‘My fuckin’ job, Sundance.’ Bain snorted. ‘Anyway, what’s all the shouting in Wilko’s office about?’
‘Wilko and Lamb pissing up the wall to see whose dad would win in a fight or something.’ Cullen turned back to his laptop, took a headphone splitter from the top drawer of his desk and plugged in a pair of pink earbuds, which he handed to Bain. ‘The wiretap on Vardy.’
‘Like I’m interested.’ Bain smirked at him. ‘Look, I’ll help you analyse the recording if you take a wager on who wins that handbag fight in there.’
‘A tenner on Lamb.’
‘I’ll take that action. Wilko’s no mug.’ Bain sat next to him and took about a year to press the buds in his ear. ‘Sure these are made for humans?’
‘No, which is why I gave them to you.’ Cullen clicked play again, but he couldn’t hear anything.
Bain pulled his left earbud out. ‘This is shite.’
‘Just listen, will you?’
‘I’ve half a mind to walk into Wilko’s office right now and tell him—’ Bain paused. ‘Although, who am I to interrupt the bollocking he’s giving that twat.’
‘Shh!’ Cullen gave him a hard stare.
Seemed to work. Bain returned his attention to the recording, frowning and listening hard. More muffled conversation, more rustling and popping. Then a third voice was audible, a female voice, faint at first, then shrill – too shrill to make out many of the words.
Bain looked at him and said something, but Cullen couldn’t hear what.
On the recording, the woman was shouting now. Cullen thought he heard ‘rapist’ and ‘kill’.
Then a gunshot.
Cullen hit pause and looked at Bain. ‘The shouting must’ve been Xena. But why was she threatening Vardy? Did it look like he wa
s raping her friend?’
‘Search me.’ Bain shrugged. ‘Why did Vardy shoot her for shouting a bit of abuse at him? What did that wee lassie say?’
‘Her name is Amy. And she didn’t. She said Vardy shot Xena.’ Cullen shook his head. ‘She didn’t say that her friend started yelling at him about rape in the middle of a consensual blow job.’
Bain gave his best lecherous grin. ‘Course you’d know what it sounds like to consensually suck a—’
‘Gentlemen.’ Lamb clapped them on the shoulders. ‘DI Wilkinson and I just agreed that I’m taking lead on the Xena Farley murder.’
Cullen pulled out the remaining earbud. ‘What about Operation Venus?’
‘What about it?’ Lamb pumped their shoulders. ‘We’ve got Vardy for murder. Going away for life. Need you pair and all of the seconded MIT officers back to Leith Walk, pronto.’
‘Aye?’ Bain passed the headphones back to Cullen. ‘Wilko agreed to that?’
‘Well.’ Lamb stifled a laugh. ‘Alison Cargill kicked his boss’s arse.’
Cullen held up both hands and spread out all ten fingers. ‘I worked there for almost a year and never met his boss.’
‘Your reputation precedes you.’ Bain shook his head, but reached into his faded-black jeans pocket for a crumpled tenner.
Cullen palmed it from him and looked back up at Lamb. ‘By the way, Bill, we’ll have to have another word with our eyewitness, Amy Forrest. We just listened to her wiretap recording. It took a turn for the weird just before the shooting. Xena started shouting about Vardy being a rapist.’
‘Well, he is.’
‘I know, but if he raped Amy or Xena, then—’
‘She’s really called Xena?’
‘Her mum was a fan of the TV show.’
‘Christ. I used to watch that.’ Lamb stared into space. ‘How time flies, eh?’
‘Bill, our entire case hinges on Amy Forrest’s testimony. We need to get it nailed down.’ Lamb shifted his attention to Cullen. ‘You two need to get it nailed down. Have another word with Miss Forrest. And this time, Scott, make sure you get the truth from her.’
Cullen opened the interview room door.
Bain’s jaw dropped. He shoved Cullen out of the way, grabbed the handle and shut the door again. ‘Sundance, the fuckin’ tits on her!’
Cullen kept his hand on the door. ‘When are you going to grow up?’
‘Seventh of never.’ Bain grabbed Cullen’s wrist, but tenderly. ‘We should do this off the record?’
‘What?’
‘If we want her on the stand, the last thing we need is an interview where we discuss her ability to lie, okay?’
‘Fair point.’ Cullen barged past him and dropped on the chair across the table from Amy Forrest. ‘Okay, Amy, let’s try this off the record, okay?’
She didn’t look at either of them. ‘Can I get out of here or what?’
‘What, I’m afraid.’ Bain took a seat next to Cullen and leaned in to whisper: ‘Why did you lie to us?’
Amy swallowed. ‘What?’
‘You told us Vardy shot Xena for dealing drugs on the side. You didn’t mention that Xena called him a rapist, did you? Now, why would she do that?’
She kept her focus on the table.
Cullen looked at her. ‘You want a lawyer, Amy?’
‘Should I have one?’
‘You need to give us the truth. So, we bring a lawyer in, or we don’t. But you’re going to stop lying to us.’ Cullen leaned back and waited.
Amy looked him straight in the eye and shrugged. ‘So what am I lying about?’
‘I listened to the recording. Xena called Vardy a rapist. Now, why didn’t you tell me that earlier?’
‘She… I don’t know.’
‘That’s bollocks. You knew, didn’t you?’
‘Okay, so I knew. But she pulled a knife, and I freaked out. Didn’t expect it. But Dean… shit. He pulled a gun and… shot her. And I just ran. Then I heard the other two shots.’
Cullen waited until Amy looked back at him. ‘Why did Xena call Vardy a rapist?’
Amy squirmed in her chair.
Cullen leaned forward again. ‘Amy, why did Xena call Vardy a rapist?’
‘Because he raped us!’
Cullen sat back. ‘When?’
Amy trembled, her breathing a series of stifled sobs.
‘Amy, when did he rape you?’
Bain held a hand in front of Cullen’s face. He stuck a finger to his lips, then cleared his throat. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Forrest.’ His voice was unusually warm. ‘Sorry for the anguish you’ve suffered and sorry for having to ask you to face the memory of it once more. But you’re taking back control. By speaking with us, you’ll help us put Vardy away for a long time. Away from you and away from other women who might suffer in similar ways.’ He paused, letting the words sink in, watching her calm down, slowly but surely. She looked up at him. ‘Would you tell us what happened, please?’
Amy blinked away a tear and took a deep breath. Then she nodded. ‘He… raped Xena three months ago. Me last week.’ Her eyes went out of focus, like she was no longer looking at Bain, but rather at the memory. ‘It wasn’t the first time for either of us. He pinned me against the wall in the dressing room and fucked me from behind. Then made me have a shower to wash away the evidence.’ She shuddered. ‘He knew I’d been dealing, knew the cops were involved.’ She fell silent, hardly breathing at all. ‘He would’ve done it to us again. Could’ve done it whenever he wanted.’ She sounded like a different person, hoarse, haunted. ‘So I spoke to Xena about it – about what you’d spoken to me about last week. She said we should confront him, should get a confession. That’s why I agreed to the wire. It’s why I…’ Her breath caught in her throat. She was silent again – longer this time. Seemed to have said everything there was to say. She looked up at Bain. ‘But at least I got him to admit the rapes, so it wasn’t all bad, right?’
Bain couldn’t look at her.
Amy shifted her attention to Cullen. ‘What’s happened?’
Cullen pressed his lips together. ‘I’m sorry. The recording’s too muffled to hear a confession. We’d placed the microphone in the living room, but you took him into the bedroom.’
Amy stared at him. ‘Are you kidding me?’
‘No. We can’t make it out.’
‘Are you telling me I sucked that bastard’s cock for nothing? After what he did to us?’
Cullen sat up straight to show he was taking her outrage seriously. And to demonstrate they were still in control of the case. ‘No, Amy. Your actions weren’t in vain. Xena’s life wasn’t in vain. But, I need you to go on the stand and testify against him. Tell the court what he did to you and Xena. And what you were prepared to do to aid this investigation.’
Amy was still staring at Cullen, confused, furious, hurt. She had no words to express the chaos of her emotions.
Bain leaned forward and drew her attention with a kind smile. ‘Perhaps we can close this case from a different angle. Perhaps if you can let the court see how deranged he is. I mean, what would make a man who had raped you think he was visiting you for a booty call? That much we did hear him say on the recording, but that’s not how a sane person would think, is it?’
Amy bit her lip. ‘No. It isn’t.’ A drop of blood appeared on the lip. She wiped it away, then looked at her red fingertip as though it belonged to someone else. ‘I told him Xena and I are into rough stuff. Told him I came when he raped me. It was a fantasy of mine. He loved it.’
Cullen closed his eyes. A wave of nausea hit him in the stomach. Hard. But not nearly as hard as he vowed to hit Dean Vardy.
5
Cullen opened the pool car door and jumped out into the Leith Walk station garage. He paced over to the stairwell, his running shoes squeaking on the naked concrete floor.
‘Hang on, Sundance.’ Bain scrambled after him and caught his arm. ‘Don’t do anything daft now.’
Cullen stopped and stared dow
n at Bain’s hand on his sleeve until he let go. ‘You know what’s daft?’ He looked Bain square in the face. ‘Letting Vardy anywhere near those women. Giving him the opportunity to kill—’
‘That wasn’t your call, Sundance. That was Wilko’s fuck-up, so don’t blame yourself for it.’
‘I wish it was that easy. Amy’s my mark. I should’ve known she wouldn’t stick to the plan. Or at least noticed something was off about the way she was talking to Vardy, and just the way she—’
‘Scott.’ The voice came from behind him, clipped, rough, familiar. PC Craig Hunter held the door open, a car key dangling in his other hand. His shaved head almost touched the top of doorjamb.
His shoulders didn’t used to be that broad, did they? They weren’t quite touching the frame, but there wasn’t much light getting past him.
Must be that kettlebell training he mentioned a while back.
Look at the size of him. And look at me, staring at him like a love-struck gym bunny.
Hunter cleared his throat. ‘How are things?’
‘Aye, fine, yeah. Didn’t expect to see you here, Craig.’
‘Me neither.’ Hunter sniffed, scanning the garage for his car. ‘Hear about that shooting?’
‘Our obbo.’ Cullen looked at Bain, then back at Hunter. ‘We were upstairs when the gun went off.’
‘Seriously? It’s all over the telly news.’
‘I managed to nail Dean Vardy, mind. If you want to come out for drinks later—’
‘You the man, Scott. See you when I see you.’ Hunter strode past them, heading to the back of the garage.
Cullen watched him go. ‘Is it just me or was he acting weird?’
‘Was he acting weird?’ Bain laughed. ‘You lost the power of speech at the sight of him, Sundance, then near enough fucked him with your eyes. It’s like fuckin’ Top Gun, without all that straight shite.’
Cullen placed both hands on Bain’s shoulders and looked him dead in the eye. ‘Oh, sweet Brian, I don’t fancy Craig. But if my sexual orientation does ever change, you’ll be the first to know.’
