Windchill (DC Scott Cullen Crime Series Book 6)

by Ed James

  "Who are Windchill when they're at home?"

  "I don't know, sir. Companies House aren't returning my calls yet. I can get onto them after this. Think we've got a liaison in the City of London police."

  "You say that like I might want you to get onto something else."

  Cullen handed him another sheet of paper. "Kidd did manage to find a registered address for the company. It's the same address as Nelson and Parker."

  Methven grabbed the sheet. "What, Dean Vardy's lawyer?"

  "And Falconer's, remember. Among others. We checked - Windchill's company address is the same unit."

  "So it's them?"

  "Well, we don't know yet. That's why we need to speak to Companies House."

  Methven scowled at Angela. "DC Caldwell, can you work with Charlie Kidd on this?"

  "Will do, sir."

  Methven cleared the bottom left corner of the whiteboard. "Tell me about this business."

  "Well, they've received payments from two suspects in our case and paid the idiot who's provided an alibi to both of them."

  "This is looking sodding dodgy."

  "Damn right. What are you thinking?"

  "I'm thinking if they've half a brain cell between them they'll have shredded everything." Methven shook his head at the whiteboard as he scribbled. "Get out there, Constable. Bring the pair of them in here. Let's see what they've got to say for themselves."

  "We'll need support."

  "Get some officers from the West End. I'll get a warrant arranged."

  Chapter 84

  Cullen pulled in on Torphichen Street, just around the corner from the West End police station. He looked across the road at Nelson and Parker's office, the gleaming tower block incongruous with the rest of central Edinburgh. "Cheeky buggers have been doing it right under our noses."

  Buxton opened his door and got out, the street crowded with pedestrians in business suits, snuggling under thick winter jackets and carrying briefcases. "What exactly have they been doing, though?"

  "Good point. I'm not sure." Cullen locked the pool car and set off across the street, stopping outside the office block and leaning against a street light to wait for support. His phone rang - Caldwell.

  "Hey, Scott. Just got an inch forward with Companies House."

  "Go on."

  "Michael Nelson and Neil Parker are both listed as directors of Windchill."

  "You're kidding?"

  "Nope."

  "Tell Crystal."

  "Told him a few minutes ago. You've not been answering your phone."

  "I've been driving."

  "Okay. Look, I'd better go."

  "Cheers." Cullen hung up and checked his mobile - there was a text from Methven. Approved; West End officers have it. "Looks like Crystal's somehow got the search warrant approved."

  "How the hell has he swung that?"

  Cullen tapped his nose. "Not what you know, Simon."

  "Ha, yeah." Buxton looked up and down the street. "Shall we?"

  "We're waiting on back-up, remember. I don't want anyone slipping through here."

  "Acting like the big boy now, aren't you?"

  "Maybe I've just had too many idiots run from me over the years." Cullen clocked a team of uniform trotting up the lane from the station.

  "Here we go." Buxton started off.

  Cullen waved at the oncoming officers, one of them lugging the Enforcer battering ram. "As much as I think he's a wanker, Methven's pulled out all the stops here."

  Buxton nodded. "Getting access to the Torphichen Place big key isn't bad, is it?"

  "I love that name." Cullen smirked. "Just hope we don't have to use it." He looked around the squad of six officers, not recognising any. Cleared his throat. "Okay, I want two of you to cover the front door and the rest to accompany us inside. Two take the downstairs, covering the lifts, stairs and rear exits. The other two accompany myself and ADC Buxton up. Okay?"

  General agreement. One of them handed Cullen a print of the search warrant.

  "Good. Come on." Cullen jogged to the building, accidentally pushing the revolving door and having to wait till it unjammed. He entered a large atrium area leading into the bowels of the building, filled with people in meetings or drinking coffee while talking on phones. The space was artfully lit, just some coloured lights at the sides giving illumination while relying heavily on daylight. The place stank of harsh cleaning chemicals but there was no sign of cleaning staff.

  Cullen headed to the rear, a set of six glass-fronted lifts climbing to the heavens. A wide desk sat in front, a security guard sitting in a chair staring into space. Dark grey uniform, logo of a local security firm; looked very much like ex-services, though a good few years ago.

  Cullen got his warrant card out and coughed. "Excuse me?"

  The guard jolted forward, eyes wide. "Can I help you, son?"

  "We need access to unit four."

  "Okay." He peered at Cullen's ID. "That's Nelson and Parker, right?"

  "It is, aye."

  The guard leaned over the desk, reaching for a phone. "I'll just call up."

  "I'd rather you didn't."

  "I see."

  "Is there anyone in?"

  "Think so."

  "How many?"

  "Just a sec." The guard looked down at a screen. "Got thirty-seven employees. Oh hang on - looks like only two of them have swiped in this morning."

  "What about either Michael Nelson or Neil Parker?"

  "Aye, that's them." The guard pressed a button opening the security gate. "Third floor, on the left."

  "Cheers." Cullen walked toward the lifts, gesturing for one of the uniformed officers to stay, another to mark the stairs and the other pair to follow. He waited for the Enforcer to be dumped in the lift before hammering the 3 button and waiting for the doors. "Let's see if they're answering."

  "You'll be glad not to have to take the stairs, right?"

  "Aye. I really need to get back in shape." As the two uniforms laughed, Cullen looked out of the window. The lift cleared the top of the townhouses opposite, the giant wheel on Princes Street Gardens becoming visible through the glass.

  The lift shuddered to a halt, waiting a few seconds before its doors opened into the bright corridor.

  "Finally." Cullen got out first, squinting in the half-light at the Nelson and Parker logo and an arrow pointing left. He trotted down the hallway to the dark wooden entrance. He tried the handle. "It's bloody locked."

  Buxton glanced back at the two uniforms lugging the Enforcer. "Want to use the big key?"

  "Might have to." Cullen hammered on the door. "Got a delivery here for Mr Parker!"

  Buxton leaned in close. "What are you playing at?"

  Cullen stepped off to the side. "We need to get their computers. If they think it's the police, they'll set them on fire or something."

  "Hello?" A voice called out from behind the door. "We're not expecting anything."

  "Not my problem, pal. I need you to sign for a package!"

  A key turned and the door opened. Neil Parker stuck his head through.

  Cullen flashed up his warrant card in one hand, the search warrant in the other. "Mr Parker, we have a warrant to search these premises."

  "Shite." Parker tried to push the door shut.

  Cullen led with his shoulder, taking a few seconds to prise it out of Parker's grip. He gave another push, the door flying open and knocking the lawyer over.

  "Mike! It's the police!"

  Cullen glanced at Buxton as he stepped over Parker. "Cuff him!"

  Buxton slapped a handcuff around each of Parker's wrists. "Got you!"

  "You can't do this!"

  "Mr Parker, we've a warrant to obtain any and all documentation pertaining to Windchill."

  "I've no idea what you're talking about."

  Cullen stared at the uniformed officers. "One of you stay with him, the other come with me." He marched off, heading for the open door behind the vacant reception desk.

  He
entered a wide corridor, eyes blinking in the strong light. The rooms leading off were in darkness, two offices at the far end were lit up. "Come on."

  Buxton followed him down the corridor, snapping out his baton. "These geezers are definitely up to something dodgy."

  "Tell me about it." Cullen crept up and looked in the first office. Empty. He held up a hand to halt the other two and sneaked a view into the second. Nelson sat at a desk, fingers hammering on a laptop.

  "Here we go." Cullen shot off, pushing into the office, warrant card out. "Mr Nelson?"

  Nelson got to his feet and threw the laptop at Cullen, colliding with his left arm.

  Cullen clutched it, pain searing his muscles. "You fucker!"

  Buxton swiped with the baton, hitting Nelson across the throat. He pushed him to the ground, kneeling behind him, locking him in a wrestling hold.

  Cullen staggered to his feet, clocking the fact a shredder was churning paper. He dived over and tugged the power cable from the wall.

  "Give us a hand over here!"

  Cullen looked over at Buxton. "What?"

  "I need your cuffs! I used mine on the other guy!"

  Chapter 85

  Cullen leaned across the interview room table. "For the record, Mr Michael Nelson has decided to represent himself." He raised an eyebrow. "Please confirm that is correct."

  Nelson sniffed. "That's correct, yes."

  "Mr Nelson, we wish to speak to you regarding two murder cases, namely those of Andrew Smith and Keith Lyle. Under suspicion of murdering Mr Smith is one Kenneth Falconer. Under suspicion for the death of Keith Lyle is Dean Vardy. In both instances, the same alibi was given - Darren Keogh." He pushed a sheet of paper across the table. "This page shows transactions were paid by both Mr Falconer and Mr Vardy to a company called Windchill."

  "And?"

  "Curiously enough, Mr Keogh receives payments from the same company."

  Nelson smiled, his eyes narrowing. "So?"

  "Mr Nelson, this company shares premises with Nelson and Parker, your business."

  "And?"

  "You represented Mr Vardy as a defence lawyer."

  Nelson leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "This is a lot of conjecture on your part, Constable. You've raided my place of work and impounded business-sensitive IT equipment."

  "This IT equipment would, of course, include an item you threw, would it not?"

  "It might." Nelson glanced away. "This is a charade."

  "This is a formal police interview, Mr Nelson. I'd appreciate if you'd treat it as such."

  Nelson pushed his glasses up his nose. "Please continue then."

  "Why were you and Mr Parker the only people in this morning?"

  "The rest were at clients or in court. Possibly on leave, either sick or planned."

  "Thirty-five people were conveniently out of the office?"

  Nelson blinked slowly before nodding. "That's what I said, yes."

  "What's your connection to Mr Keogh?"

  "We've done property conveyancing for him, I believe. That's all."

  "Your firm represents Mr Kenneth Falconer as well, does it not?"

  "Never heard of him. Must be one of Neil's clients."

  "What can you tell me about this Windchill company?"

  "No comment."

  "Would that be because you're listed as a company director?"

  Nelson sat back, folding his arms and keeping his gaze locked on the clock to his right. "No comment."

  "Mr Nelson, what's the purpose of Windchill?"

  "No comment."

  "See, we've managed to get access to the records pertaining to that business. You're aware what an industrial classification is, yes?"

  Nelson nodded. "I am, yes. We've set up a number of businesses for clients over the years."

  "See this company is listed under code 80100. Do you know what that stands for?"

  "Enlighten me."

  "It means 'private security activities'."

  "So?"

  "So, why does a law firm have a sister company doing private security activities?"

  "No comment."

  "Mr Nelson, what are you playing at with that company?"

  "Nothing."

  "You're not using it to buy and sell alibis?"

  Nelson blinked furiously. "Excuse me?"

  "This business isn't there to sell alibis to criminals, is it?"

  Nelson laughed. "Of course not."

  "You've changed your response from 'no comment', I note."

  "Please treat that as a 'no comment'."

  "Mr Nelson, what does this company do?"

  "No. Comment."

  Chapter 86

  "I gather congratulations are in order." Campbell McLintock beamed as he marched down the corridor to the interview room.

  Leaning against the wall, Cullen frowned. "Excuse me?"

  "Your other half received a promotion, did she not?"

  "Aye, she did." Cullen rolled his eyes - how the hell did McLintock find out? He thumbed at the door. "Mr Keogh's waiting for you inside."

  "Ah yes, of course." McLintock opened the door. "In that case, I shall join him."

  "That's fine." Cullen put his foot in the door to stop it swinging shut and waited outside, checking his watch and scanning the corridor in both directions. Where was Methven?

  Inside, McLintock took off his dark purple suit jacket and draped it on the back of a chair, revealing his lime green shirt, before taking out an array of stationery. He smiled at Keogh as he sat, locking eyes with Cullen before he tapped his gold wristwatch.

  Cullen typed a text to Sharon. How the hell does McLintock know about your promotion?

  "Are you ready, Constable?"

  Cullen looked up. Methven. He stood up. "Just about, sir."

  "Apologies - I had to brief DCI Cargill on our progress." Methven rested against the doorframe. "How did it go with Nelson?"

  "No comment."

  "To be expected. Any ideas what they're up to?"

  "Like I said earlier, I think they're buying and selling alibis."

  "I'm of a similar mind. I've instructed DC Caldwell to dig out all cases represented by Nelson and Parker over the last few years."

  "Good idea." Cullen shook his head. "Keogh's lawyer is here now. Campbell McLintock."

  "Ah."

  "Or we could speak to Parker, if you'd prefer. Heads or tails?"

  "If heads is Keogh then let's go with that."

  "Not Parker?"

  "I'm not entirely convinced he'll give us anything Nelson hasn't, i.e. sod all." Methven scowled. "I fully expect he'll be playing the same game as his partner."

  "You're probably right."

  "There the pair of you are." Angela tottered down the corridor, one hand underneath her belly, the other clutching some papers. "Christ, it wasn't this bad with Jamie."

  "I'm surprised you're even showing given how tall you are." Methven bellowed with laughter at his own joke.

  "I do seem to give birth to absolute monsters." Angela handed them a sheet of paper. "Anyway, Charlie Kidd's been doing some digging into the laptop Nelson chucked at Cullen. The stuff he was working on wasn't encrypted. Everything else had been."

  "And all the paperwork was shredded?"

  "Aye. Not sure you want me to stick it back together?"

  Methven shook his head. "We'll leave that for when we're really desperate."

  "Hopefully after I'm on maternity leave, sir."

  Cullen looked down the page, nothing more than a list of names and numbers plus a few other fields. He recognised Keogh, Falconer and Vardy on there. Jones, too. "So what's this?"

  "Not entirely sure but we think it's a client list. Looks like Nelson was working on some sort of year-end accounts."

  Cullen shook his head. "Does it give us anything?"

  "Only another forty-six people to speak to." Angela shrugged.

  "So we've no real idea what this company does?"

  "Other than 'private secu
rity activities'? No, nothing."

  "Vague as hell." Cullen leaned against the wall. "Cheers for doing that."

  "No problem."

  Methven gripped Cullen's shoulder. "Come on, let's see what Mr Keogh has to say."

  "Aye." Cullen smiled at Angela then entered the room, still clutching the sheet. He started the recorder while Methven sat. "Interview commenced at ten twenty-nine on Friday the ninth of January 2014. Present are myself, Detective Constable Scott Cullen, and Detective Inspector Colin Methven. Darren Keogh is accompanied by his solicitor, Campbell McLintock." He rubbed his hands together. "Mr Keogh, what can you tell us about Windchill Limited?"

  Keogh looked at his lawyer for a few seconds, getting nothing in return. "I've no idea what you're on about."

  "Are you seriously telling me you've got no idea?"

  "Absolutely none."

  "Even though Windchill was paying you two grand a month?"

  "Aye." Keogh swallowed.

  "If someone paid me two grand a month, I'd wonder what it was for. The city council will be interested in this, especially as you're not reporting it." Cullen clicked his tongue. "See, if it was me, I'd have done some digging, maybe put the money in a savings account until whoever's it is came calling, looking for their cash. Not you, though."

  "Eh?"

  "You've been spending it, haven't you?"

  Keogh looked away. "Might have been."

  "No, you have. Your account is in overdraft, Mr Keogh. None of the twenty-seven payments you've received so far have been put away for a rainy day, have they?"

  "I don't know anything about the money, I swear."

  Cullen gave a mock grimace. "See, here's the other thing. Mr Vardy and Mr Falconer each paid money to this company. That's very interesting, especially when you consider who's giving them both alibis."

  "I told you, I don't know-"

  "Cut the crap, will you?" Cullen stabbed a finger at the sheet of paper. "You're providing alibis sold by Windchill, aren't you?"

  Keogh looked again at his lawyer.

  McLintock focused on Cullen, before pointing at the recorder.