by Ed James
"I just wanted to be clear on it."
"One final thing. Your relationship is your own. I want you to keep it that way. You're to collaborate only under strict instruction from myself or DS Methven. I need to have a clear audit trail with this and I don't want anything muddying the water. Are we clear?"
Sharon nodded. "Crystal."
Cullen had to concentrate hard to stop himself laughing. "Absolutely, ma'am."
***
"I don't know where she gets off. I really don't." Sharon prodded at her salad, skewering a cherry tomato.
Caldwell grinned. "She's probably just jealous of you, Sharon, what with you being shacked up with a stud like Scott."
Cullen looked up from his lasagne. "Do you really want to start talking about shacking up with people? Besides, she's probably more jealous of me shacking up with Sharon."
Sharon glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well, she's gay, isn't she?"
Caldwell put a hand to her mouth. "You don't know that, do you?"
"She looks gay."
Sharon scowled. "Scott, are you being homophobic again?"
Cullen held his hands up. "I'm not being homophobic. I'm just saying, that's all."
Sharon shook her head. "You better not be away to use that 'some of my best friends are gay' line again."
"Well, they are. But besides, I'm not being homophobic. I'm just saying that she looks like a lesbian, that's all. Isn't she?"
Sharon put some mackerel in her mouth and chewed. "Well, as a matter of fact, she is."
"How do you know?"
Sharon put her knife and fork down on the plate and pushed it away, the salad half eaten. "I worked with her for a couple of years. Unless she's had some sort of epiphany, she's still gay."
Cullen clocked Methven heading over. "Change the subject. Didn't Shug Nichol say Souness had no family?"
Sharon glanced over her shoulder. "No, he told us Souness never talked about a family. Doesn't mean he didn't have one."
"Good point."
"You lot talking shop? Well I never." Methven stood by the table beside them, carrying a tray with a bowl of soup and some bread, hand jangling in his left pocket. "Got room for two more?"
Sharon frown. "Who's the other?"
A seriously thin woman appeared next to Methven. She had long dark hair and looked like she was in her early thirties.
"DS Catriona Rarity." Methven patted her shoulder. "This is her first day in Jim's team. This is DS Sharon McNeill, DC Scott Cullen and DC Angela Caldwell."
Sharon shuffled to the side. "Have a seat."
Methven sat at the end of the table, between Sharon and Caldwell, while Rarity sat opposite Cullen.
Cullen pushed his lasagne away. "Where have you moved from?"
"Central. I was based at HQ in Stirling."
"That's going to be the new HQ, right?"
"Maybe. It'll be Tulliallan until they decide."
"Do you know DI Cargill?"
"I worked with her on a couple of nationwide community outreach initiatives. They were pretty successful."
Methven dunked some bread in his soup. "Let the woman have some lunch, Cullen."
Cullen smiled. "Just being friendly."
"Yeah, well, your reputation precedes you."
Caldwell and Sharon laughed.
Cullen held up his hands. "Relax, I'm spoken for."
Methven took a spoonful of soup. "Doesn't sodding stop some people."
Caldwell shot daggers at him. Sharon tapped her on the wrist.
Rarity grinned at him. "Actually, I wouldn't mind having a catch up with you, Scott. DI Cargill asked me to keep an eye on how you're getting on with the Aitken investigation. I'm deputising for her in the post mortem at two, but I'll come find you after."
Cullen clenched his jaw. Someone else keeping an eye on him. "Sure."
They ate in silence for a few minutes.
Methven put his bowl back on the tray. "We'd better get back to it. DI Cargill wants a catch-up before the PM."
"I'll see you later." Rarity smiled at Sharon and Caldwell.
When they were out of earshot, Sharon piped up. "Where does he get off? We've not been working with him that long and I can't stand him already. Sanctimonious shit."
Caldwell smirked at Cullen. "Were you flirting with Rarity?"
"Hardly. I was just being friendly."
Sharon reached across and held his hand. "I don't think she was interested."
Cullen leaned back in his seat. "It wasn't that. I was fishing for information. That's another fucking DS that's come in. That's four. I'm fucked."
Caldwell rolled her eyes. "Here we go again. The career woes of Scott Cullen, detective constable for a whole eighteen months."
He scowled at her. "Is it pick on Cullen day or something?"
"Oh, come on, Scott." Caldwell folded her arms. "First, you get me to do your job for you this morning, then you're moaning that you're not getting promoted."
"Thanks for the sympathy."
Caldwell got to her feet. "Get over yourself, Scott."
"Cargill's put me in charge of you. I'll see you in the Incident Room in ten minutes."
"Great. I'll just get back to work and let you strategise." Caldwell walked off before throwing her tray onto the trolley.
Cullen turned to Sharon. "What's got up her?"
"DS Lamb."
Cullen grinned. "Very good." His expression darkened. "Since she got made a DC, she's been a right bloody princess. Bain was spot on with that nickname."
"Scott, she works hard. She's pretty good and she's going through a tough time, so let her get through it."
"Doesn't give her a remit to go around pissing everyone off."
Sharon shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe it does."
CHAPTER 11
"We could do with an Incident Room out in West Lothian." Cullen kicked down to overtake a tractor, the Golf struggling to make it, the post-harvest fields around them reduced to yellow stubble. "I know this is an A Division gig, but I'm getting fed up driving out here all the time."
"I'm surprised your car's coping at all." Caldwell folded her arms. "Maybe you should get Shug Nichol to take a look at it."
"There's nothing wrong with it. It still works."
They drove through Ravencraig, busy with the lunchtime rush, the sun threatening to break out from behind the clouds. Greggs the baker had a queue almost round the block. A gang of school kids hung around in front of the Co-op.
Cullen indicated just before Nichol's Garage and headed down Mason Avenue, a street filled with semi-detached council houses, their harled exterior walls painted yellow. "Tina Aitken lives at the end of this one, I think."
The street was mostly empty and Cullen pulled into a space just in front of the three-storey block of flats she lived in. "Do you want to lead?"
"You owe me from earlier, I'll let you."
They walked up the path to the flat, the garden filled with dulled white pebbles and the sort of grey thistle Cullen always associated with municipal housing.
The door was eventually answered by a thin woman in her early forties.
Cullen showed his warrant card. "Mrs Aitken?"
"No, son, I'm her sister, Kerry. I'll show you through."
The house was in a state of disrepair, frayed carpet, peeling wallpaper, much worse than the flat her son had lived in - Xander Aitken had clearly gone up in the world.
The living room was small and packed with furniture - a three-piece suite in brown fabric filled the walls. A small portable TV sat in the corner, sound muted, showing an old Western.
Tina Aitken was sitting on an armchair, ignoring them as they entered, eyes focused on the floor. She was a few years older than her sister, her reddish brown hair thinning in places.
"Tina, the police want to speak to you."
She looked up, revealing sunken cheeks. Her eyes, surrounded by dark rings, barely acknowledged their presence. "Police have al
ready been."
Kerry led them back into the hall, pushing the living room door shut behind Caldwell. "She's not taking this well."
"It's to be expected." Cullen loosened his tie - the flat was sweltering. "When were the police around?"
"A couple of young guys came this afternoon. I didn't catch their names. They were wearing uniforms, said they were from Ravencraig nick."
Cullen knew it should have been officers assigned to the investigation who were allocated to FLO duties - he'd have to check that out. "I need to ask her a few questions about her son."
"Okay, I'm not sure you'll get much out of it."
"I understand, but I need to try."
"I'll be in the kitchen. Give me a holler if you need me."
Cullen headed back into the living room, sitting on the settee nearest Tina with Caldwell perching on the other. "Mrs Aitken, I need to ask you some questions about your son."
"Xander's dead."
"I know, I'm a detective and I'm trying to find out if Xander was murdered. I need your help."
Tina looked up at Cullen, her large eyes pleading with him. "You think my Xander was murdered?"
"It's a distinct possibility. His flatmate, Kenny, was found dead in the flat not long after we found Xander's body."
"Oh my God." Tina wiped a tear from her face. "They were best pals. I can't believe they're both gone." Tears flowed down her cheeks, quickly sliding onto the cream cardigan she wore. "They used to go to the football together."
"Can you think of anyone who might want to harm your son?"
"Xander was a good son. He got into bother when he was a teenager, but he sorted himself out. His father battered him until he stopped hanging about with the gangs he was in." Tina closed her eyes. "I shouldn't be telling you that, but it's the truth. Tommy battering him was the best thing that could have happened to the boy."
She opened her eyes again, glazed over with tears. "He got himself a good job at the Royal Bank. He was doing well, too. He should have moved away from this town. It's a bad place. I didn't want Xander getting trapped here like me."
"You mentioned Xander's father. Are you still together?"
"We split up about five year ago. Maybe four year, who knows? We didn't get divorced, couldn't be bothered with all the hassle."
"Does he still live locally?"
Tina nodded. "He does, aye. Other end of the town from here. It's still not far enough away."
"Can I ask why you separated?"
"You can ask, but I don’t see why you need to know."
"Mrs Aitken, I need to know if your son was murdered. We're looking for any motive at all, any possibility. I have to understand why you split up with your husband."
"It was mainly the beatings. He used to batter Xander and he used to batter me. He likes a drink. I might have said it helped him, but there comes a point, you know? Tommy was the most charming man you'd ever meet when he was sober. Soon as he had a lager in him, this demon came out. The only good thing that came of it all was getting Xander to quit the gang."
Cullen had seen it so many times before in small towns across the Lothians - a young couple trapped by their relationship and children. Frustration and resentment turned to anger and then anger turned to violence. Those that got out did well - those that stayed were generally doomed to sire the next generation, which would repeat the same mistakes. "Did you ever go to the police about this violence?"
"At the start, but then they couldn't do much, could they?"
"How did it end?"
"He just got fed up. As soon as Xander left home, he only had me. He just got bored of it. I was cramping his style."
Cullen jotted a few things in his notebook. He looked over at Caldwell. "Have you got any more questions?"
Caldwell leaned forward on the settee. "Was Xander seeing anybody?"
Tina nodded. "He was, aye. Sweet wee lassie called Demi Baird. Lives in Queensferry Avenue, other end of the town."
Cullen noted down Demi's mobile number.
"Of course, she'll be at work the now. She works at McArthur Glen in Livvy."
***
They struck lucky - Tommy Aitken was in.
Cullen leaned into the intercom. "Mr Aitken, it's the police."
"Ah, right."
Cullen looked back at Caldwell. "Can we come in?"
"I was just on my way out."
"We need to speak to you now."
"Right, come on then." The buzzer sounded and the door opened.
Cullen pushed into the dank stairwell. "Where do you think he's on his way to?"
Caldwell shrugged. "Probably the town's cheapest, roughest pub."
They got up to the second floor, Tommy Aitken standing in his doorway. He was a thin, wiry man with the cheeky smile of George Best in his happy drunk phase. He wore baggy denims and a hooded top. He looked mid-forties, old enough to be there for the Second Summer of Love - the Stone Roses, Acid House, Spike Island and all that. "Come on in, then."
The front door entered straight into his sparsely-furnished living room, which was tiny, even smaller than his wife's.
Cullen took one of the chairs. "Mr Aitken, we need to speak to you about your son."
"Aye, can you be quick about it?"
Cullen frowned. "Xander's dead, Mr Aitken."
"Aye, I know. No use in crying over spilt milk, you know what I mean? I was just heading out."
"Where to?"
"Wanted to meet a few of my pals. Try to process things."
"I see." Cullen unfolded his notebook. "What can you tell us about Xander?"
"The boy had a screw loose."
Cullen wasn't exactly wondering where the boy inherited the trait from. "What makes you say that?"
"Just couldn't focus on anything. When he was a laddie, he was getting into trouble with gangs and stuff. I managed to stop that behaviour, you know?"
Cullen made a show of flipping through his notebook. "When we spoke to your wife, she told us that you battered it out of him. Is that correct?"
Tommy inspected his fingernails - a couple on his right hand were long enough for finger-picking an acoustic guitar. "Suppose it is, aye."
Cullen pointed up at the Stone Roses posters on the wall above the fireplace, the only colour in the room. "Hard to reconcile the One Love stuff up there with beating your own son up."
Tommy screwed his face up. "It was tough love. The boy was going to end up in a bad place if we didn't sort his life out there and then. He ended up doing better than me. Working in a bank is such a good thing for this family to have achieved. We were both proud of the laddie."
"And yet he had a screw loose?"
"Aye, well. We could never quite stop him doing stupid things."
"Compared to your wife, you don't seem to be that upset. Why is that?"
"You know what women are like since Diana. I like to keep my cool."
Cullen wondered how much of his cool he kept when he beat the shit out of his son and wife. "Just out of interest, why did you and your wife split up?"
"None of your business."
"Xander's body has been found in suspicious circumstances. Coupled with his flatmate's body also being found, we're dealing with a major inquiry here. Any information - and I mean any - could prove useful and help us bring a killer or killers to justice."
"Did you say Kenny was dead?"
"He was discovered in their flat last night, just after Xander's body was found."
"Jesus." Tommy sat there for close to a minute, staring into space. "Jesus Christ." He rubbed his hand down his face. "Those pair were inseparable. From the age of about fifteen, they were best mates. Both of them were Rangers daft. Used to take them through to Ibrox when I was still working. Been a long time since I took them, mind you. I was proud they still went but Christ… I can't believe they're both dead."
"Can you think of anyone who might wish them dead?"
"Just a whole busload of Celtic fans." Tommy laughed.
"I'
m glad your son's murder is a laughing matter."
Tommy's face straightened up. "Sorry. It's how I deal with things"
"That and beating your wife and son up?"
"What the fuck is this?"
"Mr Aitken, I need to know if there are any people that would wish to cause Xander harm. I would appreciate it if you would co-operate."
"Nobody springs to mind." Tommy sat, deep in thought for a few moments. "No, nobody. One thing, though - my son was found in a stolen Range Rover, right? I can buy that the silly wee bastard would have driven it down the bing himself and smashed it up, but you're saying he was murdered, is that right?"
"It's an avenue we're investigating. It's current protocol to treat all deaths as suspicious until proven otherwise. Given Xander's flatmate was also found murdered on the same evening, this certainly fits the profile."
"Right, right. Well, as I say, there's nobody I can think of that would have hated them pair enough to kill them. The boys were well thought of in the town."
"We understand Xander had a girlfriend. Demi Baird, is that right?"
"It is, but she doesn’t pronounce it like that. It’s just 'Demmy', not 'De-mee'."
"Are you close to her at all?"
"Daft wee lassie." Tommy screwed his face up. "I've no idea what my boy saw in her. He could have done a lot better."
"Okay. I think that's all for me. DC Caldwell?"
She shook her head.
***
Cullen turned right at the roundabout, McArthur Glen coming to view. "Instead of a high street, Livingston has McArthur Glen."
"Snob."
"Hardly." Cullen looked around the front of the mall. "Where did you say she worked?"
"M&S."
"Here'll do." Cullen pulled into the car park nearest to where he remembered the shop to be. "Used to come here all the time when I was based in Livvy."
"Well done you."
"Oh, come on, are you still pissed off with me?"
"Any reason why I shouldn't be?"
