by Ed James
"You're in a good mood," said Cullen.
"I forgot just how shit this job could be," said Chantal.
"I'm continually reminded."
She laughed. "Good to see you back. Nice holiday?"
"Hardly a holiday."
"You've got that hungover look," said Chantal.
Cullen ignored her. "What have you been up to?"
"You're not my boss any more," said Chantal.
"I'm just asking."
Chantal looked him up and down for few seconds then slumped back in her chair. "Been on the phone with a lead from Strang's work. It turns out Strang was sleeping with the girlfriend of someone in the band."
This was news to Cullen. Another line from the poem jumped out at him.
Stealing what wasn't mine, taking what didn't belong to me, coveting my neighbour's wife.
"Any idea who it was?" said Cullen.
Chantal shook her head. "The boy said Strang was a shagger on the Russell Brand scale. I've got him coming in to give a proper statement this afternoon."
"Who do we think it is?"
"I think we can rule Beth out," said Chantal. "Pregnant woman with wedding ring and all that."
"This is nineteen months ago," said Cullen.
"Don't think it was her," said Chantal. "Beth worked at the shop, remember? They would surely have said he was getting it on with her, wouldn't they? Plus, she told us it wasn't her."
"I see your point," said Cullen. "It's definitely a girlfriend of someone in the band?"
"Definitely," said Chantal. "Which leaves David Johnson or Alex Hughes."
"Hughes," said Cullen. "I would put money on Johnson being gay."
"Is it the posh boy thing?"
Cullen shrugged. "I'm not being homophobic, I just think he could be, that's all."
"Those posh boys love to lull us girls into a false sense of security," said Chantal. "We think they're our mates, come shopping with us and then, all of a sudden, they're sticking the tongue in."
"Sorry I even mentioned it," said Cullen. "Right, so he was cheating with either Johnson's or Hughes' girlfriends. Which one?"
"We need to speak to Johnson and Marta Hunter," said Chantal.
"Did you get round to catching up with his psychoanalyst?" said Cullen.
Chantal patted her hair. "We spoke to him, but he pleaded patient confidentiality."
"Is it worth pushing him?" said Cullen.
"Not yet."
Cullen nodded. "Great. Come on, let's go and see Marta Hunter."
"Don't you want to run it past Rarity?" said Chantal.
"Not really."
"Your funeral."
CHAPTER 66
Cullen knocked hard on Marta Hunter's door. After a while, the door pulled back on the chain, her sunken cheeks peering round the edge.
"Can we speak to you?" said Cullen.
Marta let them in. "Come on through." She staggered to the living room.
"No kids today?" said Cullen.
"They're with my mother," said Marta. "Had Glasgow police here earlier."
Cullen leaned against the window frame and frowned. Bain's squad should have cleared it with Methven as the Senior Investigating Officer on the Strang case. "What were they wanting?"
"It was just stuff about Alex," said Marta.
"What sort of thing?"
Marta shrugged. "Can't remember." She clearly found it amusing.
Chantal cut straight to the chase. "How well did you get on with James Strang?"
"Jimi?" Marta seemed thrown. "He was okay. Nice enough. Only used to see him when the band played."
"You never went to the pub or to the same parties, nothing like that?" said Chantal.
"Afraid not," said Marta. "I wasn't much for going out." She looked at her feet. "Would much rather stay in."
"You'd rather take drugs, is that it?" said Cullen.
"I'm not answering that," said Marta.
"Did Alex take heroin as well?" said Cullen.
"I'm not answering that either," said Marta. "Those Glasgow policemen were asking about it and they got nothing."
Chantal glared at Cullen before smiling at Marta. "We have reason to believe that James slept with a girlfriend of someone in the band. Obviously that removes Beth, but includes David Johnson and Alex Hughes. You were Alex's girlfriend at the time, Marta, weren't you?"
Marta nodded. "I was."
"Did you sleep with James Strang?"
Marta looked away. "I'm not answering that one without a lawyer."
Chantal knelt in front of her and spoke in a low voice. "Well, you'd better arrange one. You'll need some childcare while we take you in. I'd imagine it'll take more than a few hours to find a lawyer and that's before we start asking questions."
Marta scratched her wrist and stared into space. "Fine." She bit a nail. "I never had sex with Jimi but he tried it on with me once. Must have thought I'd be an easy junkie or something. I knocked him back."
Chantal got to her feet, taking a few steps away. "When was this?"
"It'll be about two weeks before he went missing, I think," said Marta. "I'm not too good with keeping track of time. Alex was in Glasgow with one of his pals so Jimi knew I'd be alone in the flat, just me and the kids. His hands were everywhere as soon as he was through the door. I had to tell him to fu- to get away from me."
"How did Mr Strang respond?" said Chantal.
"He just started shouting, didn't he?" said Marta. "Screaming about how I'd led him on and let him down, that sort of thing."
"Had you led him on?" said Cullen.
A tear streaked down Marta's cheek. "No. My bairns were here. It wasn't right."
"I think we've heard enough," said Chantal. "We'll need an additional statement from you. We'll send some uniformed officers around to collect it later."
Marta nodded but didn't look up as they let themselves out.
Outside, Cullen had to shout at some kids by his car to get them to clear off. Luckily they hadn't keyed it.
Cullen buckled his seatbelt. "Can't believe Glasgow South have been speaking to her. We should have been told about it."
"What would they have been after?" said Chantal.
"Proof of the drugs motive."
"You going to do anything about it?"
"It's for Rarity or Methven to progress."
She flipped the sun visor back, checking her make-up in the mirror. "What do you want to do now?"
Cullen put the car in gear and pulled off. "Let's go and see Johnson."
CHAPTER 67
David Johnson's office at the university was a pigsty. A box of Lego Technic lay open on a side desk and Johnson was halfway through building some sort of tractor. The rest of the small room was filled with papers and books. A blackboard sat across from the main desk, covered in scribbles.
"Mr Johnson, we understand your band was offered a record deal, is that correct?" said Cullen.
Johnson nodded.
"Why aren't you driving Rolls Royces into swimming pools, then?" said Cullen.
Johnson stared at the blackboard for a few seconds. "We were just about to sign the papers when the deal disappeared from under our feet, just like that." He clicked his fingers.
"That seems a bit strange," said Cullen. "Any idea why that happened?"
"None at all," said Johnson.
"How did it make you feel?" said Cullen.
Johnson's eyes darted between Cullen and Chantal. "Listen, am I a suspect here?"
"I don't know, are you?" said Cullen, his expression set.
Johnson's hands twitched. "Shouldn't we be doing this at the station with lawyers present?"
"There are two officers here," said Cullen. "This will stand up in court if needs be. Are you trying to tell us you were involved in Mr Strang's death?"
Johnson shook his head. "No."
Chantal cleared her throat. "Mr Johnson, did you have a girlfriend at the time?"
Johnson looked away. "Yes, I did. Ailsa."
/> Cullen raised an eyebrow. His tenner would have been wasted.
"Did she have a relationship with Mr Strang?" said Chantal.
"I'm not prepared to comment on that, I'm afraid," said Johnson.
Chantal did the flirty head tilt Cullen had seen so many times. "Can I ask why?"
"It's nothing to do with this murder," said Johnson.
"So, something did happen?" said Chantal.
Johnson rubbed at his neck, struggling to keep his hands in one place. "No comment."
"We have reason to believe Mr Strang slept with the girlfriend of someone in the band," said Chantal. "Was that your girlfriend?"
"No comment."
"What was her name?" said Cullen.
Johnson stayed quiet.
"You already said Ailsa," said Cullen. "That's just a couple of phone calls."
Johnson gave the briefest of nods. "Ailsa McHardy."
"Do you still keep in touch?" said Cullen.
"Occasionally," said Johnson. "She lives in Falkirk now."
"Did she sleep with Mr Strang?" said Cullen.
"No comment."
Cullen smiled and put his notebook and pen away. "We need you to report to the police station to give a statement."
"Certainly."
Cullen got to his feet and towered over the man. "No later than tomorrow."
They walked back to Cullen's car, double-parked on Buccleuch Place with a sign reading On Police Business. Neither spoke until they were inside.
Cullen pulled onto Buccleuch Street, turning left towards the most direct route back to the station. "What do you think of Johnson, then?"
"There's something there," said Chantal. "He was so evasive."
"Is there enough, though?"
"I don't know," said Chantal. "I really don't know."
"I think we need to go to Methven about this," said Cullen.
"What about Rarity?"
"She can come with us," said Cullen.
"Remember you're not an ADS any more," said Chantal.
"Doesn't stop me being a leader."
CHAPTER 68
Cullen and Chantal briefed Methven, Rarity and Buxton in the Incident Room. She hadn't said anything, but Cullen just knew Rarity was annoyed with him going over her head to Methven earlier.
"This has been a slog," said Cullen, "but we've got three clear suspects. Matt MacLeod for one, and Alex Hughes and David Johnson, the other two men in The Invisibles."
Methven's eyes were flickering. "What's your thinking, Constable?"
"First," said Cullen, "we know MacLeod bullied Strang at school and they both lived in Edinburgh."
Methven frowned. "There better be more."
"You should meet the guy," said Cullen.
"Just because we sodding dislike someone," said Methven, "doesn't mean we go around arresting them."
"They clearly didn't like each other," said Cullen. "Maybe Strang attacked MacLeod, it got out of hand and Strang was killed."
"Not sure," said Methven.
"I've got surveillance on MacLeod," said Cullen. "He's still in Dalhousie."
"You've got sodding surveillance on this guy?" said Methven.
"Cargill and Turnbull have both approved it," said Rarity.
"Why the sodding hell have I not been informed?" said Methven.
"You were busy, sir," said Rarity.
Methven shook his head, arms folded and leaning back in his seat. "Go on, Constable."
"The other two suspects, Alex Hughes and David Johnson," said Cullen. "From a source of Chantal's, we believe Strang may have had an affair with one of their girlfriends. At the moment, it looks like it could be either of them."
"Is this plausible?" said Methven.
"We believe Strang might have been losing it towards the end, sir," said Chantal. "Their record deal fell through. I'm sure Scott's told you a lot of the stuff he's found."
"How are we progressing with these?" said Methven.
"We interviewed Alex Hughes' ex-girlfriend," said Cullen. "We will get a formal statement from her today but she confirmed Strang tried it on with her."
"Is she a suspect?" said Methven.
"I doubt it," said Cullen. "For Johnson, we need approval to bring him in for a formal interview. He was evasive when we spoke to him."
"Consider approval given," said Methven. "Is there any forensic evidence here?"
"Not that I know of," said Cullen.
"We've got nothing to link Strang to a suspect," said Chantal.
Methven glared at Cullen. "You had my hopes up for a minute there."
"I've been going through a list of people who bought screwdrivers," said Chantal. "James Strang was one."
Methven screwed his face up. "What the sodding hell would he have been doing with one?"
"They were using tube amps," said Buxton. "Lost count of the number of times I had to go in the back of my old Ampeg to fiddle with it when it broke."
"So, you're saying there would be a valid need for a guitarist to have a screwdriver around?" said Methven.
"Definitely," said Buxton. "The whole reason for those practice rooms was to leave your gear there." He looked around the room. "These are serious musicians, so they'd spend half their money on guitars and amps and pedals and stuff. You're quids in if you can fix your own gear."
Metvhen looked bored. "Okay, we know it's his screwdriver, so what happened? How did he die?"
"There might have been some sort of struggle in Jimi's practice room," said Cullen. "Somebody attacks him with a screwdriver, kills him and drags him down the corridor to bleed out and die."
"I think you're probably right," said Methven. "We're dealing with a psychopath here."
Cargill entered the room and stood at the back. "Don't mind me."
"I think that's us anyway," said Methven. "It feels like we're finally starting to get somewhere with this case." He looked at the other three officers. "You're all free to go. We just need a word with DC Cullen."
Cullen's stomach squirmed.
"Fine," said Chantal. "I'm heading out to Falkirk to meet Johnson's ex-girlfriend. I'll take ADC Buxton with me."
They left Methven, Cargill, Cullen and every single butterfly in his stomach.
"How are you doing?" said Methven.
"I'm fine," said Cullen. "Might have a cold on the way."
"I meant about being a DC again," said Methven. "I didn't get the chance to speak to you yesterday, what with all the chaos and everything. I looked around for you but you'd gone home to your parents, I believe?"
"I was working," said Cullen. "DS Rarity instructed me to do some further investigation in Dalhousie, which so happens to be my home town as you know."
Methven frowned at him, his giant eyebrows arched.
"I'm telling the truth here," said Cullen. "I was working with DC Richard Guthrie, based in Dalhousie nick."
Methven briefly closed his eyes. "I see."
"I'm the one who's got us these leads," said Cullen.
"Okay," said Methven. "How are you doing with what happened?"
Cullen paused, taking time to consider his response. "I'm fine. This is something I need to go through, I suppose."
Cargill smiled. "That's a very mature attitude."
Cullen shrugged. "I need to take the rough with the smooth if I want to achieve my goals. I've been a bit too quick to anger before."
"I think that will go some way to reassuring us of your maturity," said Methven.
"I'm disappointed that I wasn't briefed," said Cullen. "I was an Acting DS and I think briefing me was the least you could have done."
Methven and Cargill shared a look.
"I'd like it noted that I could have made a stink about this," said Cullen. "I haven't. I understand there's a lot going on just now and you might not have had the time."
"I appreciate your honesty," said Cargill.
"We apologise for the oversight," said Methven. "It shouldn't have happened."
Cargill cleared he
r throat. "We need you to go back to Glasgow tomorrow."
Cullen felt disappointment seep through his lungs, sucking the air out. "I thought we were through all of this."
"Politics, I'm afraid," said Methven. "DI Bain has escalated it up the chain of command."
Cargill shot him a look before smiling at Cullen. "We need you to make sure a proper job is being done over there. Jim was personally asked by the Chief Constable to ensure we have eyes and ears on the ground. These are early days for Police Scotland. Nobody wants a mess."
"I'm not known to tread lightly on eggshells," said Cullen. "You both know that."
"That's why we thought of you," said Cargill.
"Do DC Jain and ADC Buxton have enough to be getting on with?" said Methven.
"They're not my resource anymore," said Cullen. "Ask DS Rarity."
Methven nodded. "But as far as you're aware?"
Cullen shrugged. "I think so."
"And your tasks, are they complete for the day?" said Methven.
"Just about," said Cullen.
Methven smiled. "Go and get yourself home. You look atrocious."
CHAPTER 69
Cullen found Sharon in a crowded Incident Room before he left. "I'm heading home."
She looked up from her desk. "You look tired."
"I feel it," said Cullen. "Will I wait for you?"
"I don't know when I'll be done," said Sharon.
Cullen felt any remaining air deflate from him. "I thought we were supposed to be going for a meal to talk about-" He leaned in close and whispered. "-the baby?"
Sharon looked around the busy room. "I'll get away when I can."
Cullen pecked her on the cheek and left her to it.
He walked back to the flat, his mind consumed with thoughts of the beast growing in her stomach. Just after six, he slumped on the sofa and got stuck into the last of the ice cream. The cat snuggled up to him, chin on Cullen's thigh and permitting to be stroked for once.
As Cullen ate, unpicking a rich seam of marshmallow, he tried to face up to returning to Glasgow to babysit Bain and McCrea. He wasn't a political animal, never had been and doubted he ever would be. He'd much rather get on with stopping criminals than jockeying for position across the expanded force. The thing he'd hated most about his brief elevation was the murkier political side of the job, getting involved in playground spats and having to take sides.
