by Ed James
"Fine." Skinner took a deep breath. "As I said, it's about Kenny Souness. This never went to the cops, right, but he kicked the shite out of a guy called Gavin Tait."
"Who's he?"
"He lives in Ravencraig, likes. You know that Little Britain?"
Cullen couldn't stand the programme. "I know it."
"Well, that sketch, 'only gay in the village', that's Gavin Tait. Only gay in Ravencraig."
"Kenny Souness beat him up because he was gay?"
"That's what I heard a couple year ago."
"Why did it not go to the police?"
"No idea. It just didn't."
Cullen made a note. "Where does Tait live?"
Skinner got a sheet of paper and wrote an address down. "Here you go."
Cullen knew the street, just two over from Skinner's flat. He got to his feet and snatched the sheet of paper. "I'll be in touch if this doesn't go well."
"Just remember your side of the deal."
Cullen left the flat. As he hurried back to his car, he got out his phone and called West.
"You get anything useful?"
"We'll see. It's a possible. Did you guys ever hear of Kenny Souness beating up a Gavin Tait?"
"News to me. Is this Skinner's amazing revelation?"
"It is."
"Good luck with it."
"Listen, Duncan, I need to honour my end of the bargain either way."
"You owe me big time, Scott. Big time."
"Don't I know it."
He ended the call, unlocked his car and got in. As he drove, his heart raced. He was really in the shit if this didn't go well. Sharon had warned him about letting his cowboy antics get the better of him and here he was up to his waist in muck.
He pulled up outside Tait's flat, a seventies concrete tenement. He checked the sheet - flat two. Ground floor.
He got out and entered the building. The nameplate above the door on the right read 'TAIT'. He knocked and waited. Nothing.
He knelt down and shouted through the letterbox. "Gavin, this is the police."
No answer.
"Gavin. This is DC Scott Cullen of Lothian & Borders. I need to speak to you."
Cullen got up, sweat beading in his armpits. He'd gone out on a limb to get Skinner off a serious charge and he'd fallen into a trap, Skinner knowing exactly how to snare a desperate and ambitious Cullen.
He kicked his boot against the door but there was still no answer. He headed across the landing and knocked on the door.
An old man answered, blinking in the light. "Can I help you, son?"
"I'm looking for Gavin Tait."
The man nodded slowly. "Ah, young Gavin. You'll be lucky. Moved to Stirling a few weeks ago."
"Do you have an address?"
"Aye, I do. As a matter of fact, I've got a big bundle of post for him." He looked Cullen up and down. "You a debt collector or something?"
Cullen got out his warrant card. "Police."
"Right you are." He reached over to the sideboard and retrieved a pile of post, wrapped in a sheet of paper. "Here you go, son. The address is on there, I think it's up by the castle."
CHAPTER 17
As he drove through the city, Cullen realised he didn't really know Stirling that well, but he knew where the castle was. Sandwiched between streets filled with beautiful Georgian and Victorian houses and some of the worst housing estates in Scotland, was a smaller version of Edinburgh's Royal Mile, old tenement buildings leading uphill to the castle, hotels and arts centres sitting amongst low-rent housing. Gavin Tait lived halfway up the hill, just past a large hotel displaying adverts for a Scottish crime fiction festival.
He got out and checked the sheet wrapped around Tait's mail. Nineteen was a tall building, looking like a sixties facsimile of the seventeenth century. 2F1 - flat one, second floor. Cullen pressed the buzzer and the door opened without a word. He headed up, carrying the stack of letters under one arm.
Tait stood leaning against the doorframe. He was young and thin, a dressing gown open almost to the waist. "You're early. Come on in." He turned and sauntered inside.
Cullen frowned before following him. He swallowed as he worked out what was going on - Tait was a rent boy and he clearly thought Cullen was his john. He followed Tait into the living room, wondering how far he should play along.
Tait sprawled on the settee.
Cullen sat on the edge of an adjacent sofa and looked around the bohemian room, wooden cabinets in the kitchen area, lots of pot plants and unlit candles in empty wine bottles. "Mr Tait."
"Yes." Tait fidgeted with the lining on the dressing gown. "It's Paul, isn't it?"
"It's Scott, actually." Cullen got his warrant card out. "Detective Constable Scott Cullen, in fact."
"Oh my God." Tait started to panic, his leg twitching.
"You can relax. I'm not vice and I don't work in Central Division."
Tait reached over to a side table and got a pair of glasses. He looked at Cullen's warrant card, then put his hand over his mouth. He handed the card back before crossing his legs. "Why are you here, then?"
Cullen got out his notebook. "I believe you are acquainted with one Kenneth Souness."
Tait gulped, his large Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I know Kenny."
"Mr Souness was found dead on Wednesday night."
"I see." Tait frowned. "Why would that have anything to do with me?"
"I gather you were once beaten up by Mr Souness on account of your sexuality."
Tait pouted. His mouth began to twitch. "That's true. There were a few of them, really, but Kenny's the only one I recognised."
"Why did they do it?"
"Because he couldn't stand how lovely I am."
"Okay. And in truth?"
Tait sighed. "We were at school together. The same year. One day… One day, I came on to Kenny. I hadn't actually come out myself at that point. I knew what I was gay - God did I know - but it's not something you want people in a town like Ravencraig knowing, let me tell you."
"Why Kenny?"
"Are you kidding?" Tait laughed. "He was a beauty at school. Film star looks. Like Brad Pitt with maybe a bit of David Beckham."
Cullen tried to recall the photos plastered all over the Incident Room - Pitt and Beckham weren't the sort of names that came to mind when he thought of Souness, a Scottish hard man. "What happened when you tried it on with Kenny?"
"This was when we were seventeen. It was at a party, we were sharing a pack of Marlboro Lights in someone's parents' back garden. We had a real moment. When I tried to kiss him, he punched me and ran away. I didn't really see him again after that."
Cullen made a note of it. "Didn't really?"
Tait's eyebrows twitched. "I don't know what you mean."
"You were at school with him. You both lived in Ravencraig. You said yourself, it's not the sort of town you want people to know you're gay. When you say 'didn't really', that means you did."
Tait nodded. "After that, I kept myself to myself. I left school at sixteen. Went to college, got a job as a hairdresser. Typical Scottish poof."
"I tried to find you in Ravencraig."
"I moved up here to get away. I'm much more of a city boy."
"I can sympathise with that. Did you see Mr Souness after that incident?"
"Just a couple of times. Once in the street, once in the pub. The night in the pub." Tait bit his lip. "I hadn't wanted to go but one of my pals from college made me. It was with her and her friends. It wasn't one of the pubs in town I would go to, let me tell you that. Kenny was there with his friend, Xander. Now, he was a hunk at school. Was always into the younger girls, though."
Cullen jotted that down - if Aitken had a thing for younger girls then maybe he'd got caught by an angry father. Demi Baird was seven or eight years younger at a rough guess. "Go on."
"Okay, so they're in there, drinking, and I'm with Kelly-Marie and four other girls. I went to the toilet and I saw Souness stood at the urinal. He was pretty d
runk. I mean, he was pretty and drunk. He said something like 'Keep your poofy eyes off of my cock' as I passed him."
"And he beat you up?"
"No." Tait avoided Cullen's eyes. "It was about four weeks later. I'd been out in Edinburgh and got the last bus home, gets into Ravencraig at three. I'd been in CC's all night, had a wonderful time and I was walking home from the bus stop. Kenny jumped me. He hit me on the side of the head then pushed me over. A couple of other gorillas held me down as he kicked me."
"How did they know you'd be there?"
"Xander was on the night bus. He must have called ahead."
Cullen frowned as he made a note of it. He flicked back a few pages, finding the statement from Xander's workmate, the supposition that he'd get the bus back to Ravencraig. "And this was at three a.m.?"
"Yes."
"Okay, then, so what happened after they attacked you?"
"They left me in the street, covered head to toe in bruises. I probably cracked a rib - it still hurts. I somehow managed to crawl home. I didn't leave the house for weeks. Kelly-Marie was a saint, she nursed me and got me back to full health."
"So what happened?"
"I'd had enough of that place. It was like a bomb waiting to go off. I'd get killed if I stayed there. I'd had abuse in the street, don't get me wrong, but nothing like that. Now that those boys knew what I was, they'd not stop until either I left or they killed me."
"So you left the town?"
Tait nodded. "I had friends up here. My landlord's a good man. He helps me out. I really should have moved earlier."
Cullen tapped his finger on his notebook. He'd nailed another one. Still needed some shoe leather, but he reckoned he almost had Tait for Souness. Hopefully, the murder of Xander Aitken would quickly follow. "Okay, let me just ask you straight out. Did you kill Kenny Souness?"
Tait narrowed his eyes. "No. No way."
"Mr Tait, you've a motive. We can always find means and opportunity. We're very resourceful like that. I want to know your whereabouts from Monday morning to Thursday morning."
"I was in Edinburgh."
"That's very convenient."
Tait leaned forward on the settee. "I was. I work Thursday to Monday here, then I go and play. Mostly in Stirling, sometimes Glasgow, sometimes London but quite often in Edinburgh."
"And what do you do for a living?"
"I'd incriminate myself if I told you that."
"I'm here on my own, Gavin. I've no means of corroboration. I'd need to get you on the record in front of your lawyer."
Tait laughed. "Are you trying to buy my trust or something?"
"I'm trying to get you to talk. I don't care what you do. I'd imagine it involves meeting married businessmen here and lying on your front a lot."
"You'd not be a million miles away."
"Edinburgh. Where were you? I want names, addresses, places."
"I stayed with Tim and Colin, two very good friends of mine. They live just off Broughton Street."
Cullen knew it well - it was one of Edinburgh's two gay streets. "And what did you get up to?"
Tait smirked. "What didn't we get up to?"
"Mr Tait, you're a suspect in a murder enquiry. The only suspect. You better make sure you're keeping me onside here."
"Right, so you're threatening me now?"
"Places."
"Fine. We'd mainly been in CC Blooms but we went to Planet Out, Cafe Habana and some bars on Broughton Street I can't remember the names of."
"Were you with them all the time?"
"All the time. We weren't apart the whole three days. Even at night."
"Thank you." Cullen tried to avoid thinking what three consenting adults could get up to. "I'm going to verify your story. If I find anything out of place, you'll be giving a formal statement and probably facing charges."
"I've nothing to worry about then." Tait grinned. "I'll see you around."
Cullen glared at him. "I'd advise you don't leave the country. We'll be monitoring your movements."
"Good. I hope you'll help me avoid another kicking."
Cullen got up and left the flat. He walked back to his car, certain Tait had done it. A revenge killing - he'd killed Souness because of the beating. He'd been with his friends all the time, never a moment apart. Convenient.
At some point, he'd have to log it in the case file with Holdsworth. First he needed to visit Tim and Colin, either at home or at work, then go to each of the bars to look for holes in the story Tait had spun.
He turned the ignition just as his phone rang. Bain. Shite. "Where the fuck are you, Sundance?"
"Stirling."
"Stirling?"
"I'm working a lead."
"Right. Anything I should know about?"
"Not yet."
"Well, I need you in Ravencraig. I want to speak to this Craig Smith boy whose car was pinched. You spoke to him earlier, I want us back there."
"Why me? I thought Chantal Jain was looking into that."
"Aye, well, Cargill's pulled her off it."
"Has my time been approved?"
"Quit with the games. Yes, it's been approved."
"I've got my car up here."
"Right, I'll meet you at Bathgate station, okay?"
Cullen felt Tait disappear from his grasp.
CHAPTER 18
"Fuckin' Chelsea tractors." Bain got out of his car and zapped the central locking. "Don't know when proper cars went out of fashion."
"Is a Mondeo a proper car?"
"You of all people shouldn't be commenting on another man's car, Sundance."
"What's the drill here, then?"
"Just sit there and look pretty. Sure you can manage it?"
Bain led over, the glass front giving way to a large room filled with Range Rovers and Land Rovers of varying styles. There were a few customers inside, though Cullen couldn't work out why anyone would spend their lunch hour in a Range Rover showroom.
Craig Smith was in the middle of the showroom, talking to a customer beside an orange Evoque, a carbon copy of the vehicle Xander Aitken was found in.
Cullen wave over. "That's him."
"Let's give him a minute."
They waited beside another car, Bain leaning against it and folding his arms.
Cullen copied Bain's pose. "What are you thinking about DI Cargill then?"
Bain glared at him. "She can go fuck herself. Swanning in here and stealing my investigation like that. And she can take that twat Methven with her - useless fucker. Sometimes I wonder what I did to Jim Turnbull to upset him so much. Then I remember the fact I keep solving cases and showing him up. He's fuckin' jealous."
Cullen didn't quite follow the logic. "DCI Turnbull asked what I thought of Bill Lamb."
Bain scowled. "Are you fuckin' kidding me?"
"Damn straight."
"That giant-shagging twat?"
"I wouldn't put it that way but Caldwell's boyfriend, aye."
"Fuck's sake. That's all I fuckin' need. If it's not him, it'll be Methven trying for my job. Got to watch your back in this game, Sundance, I'll tell you that for nothing."
Smith walked over, hand casually in a trouser pocket of his three-piece pinstripe suit. "Cullen, isn't it?"
Cullen held up his warrant card. "This is Detective Inspector Bain."
Bain flashed his own card.
Cullen pointed at the orange Range Rover. "I see you've replaced it already."
"Oh, that's not a patch on my previous car."
Bain grunted at him. "Have you got an office?"
"Certainly." Smith grinned before leading them across the showroom to a glass-fronted office, the heels on his polished brogues clicking all the way. He gestured for them to take the seats in front of his clear glass desk, largely empty except for a Moleskine notebook and a preposterously large Apple iMac. He made a bridge with his hands and looked across the desk at them. "Now, how can I help?"
Bain got out his notebooks, loudly clicking his pen. "Mr Smi
th, your car was found at the bottom of a shale bing near Winchburgh. Inside the car was the body of a young man from Ravencraig, an Alexander Aitken."
"Your colleagues have been over this with me already."
"Were you acquainted with Mr Aitken?"
Smith leaned back in his chair. "We've been through this."
"Right, you have no idea who Mr Aitken is?"
"None whatsoever. I probably passed him in the street or saw him in the Tesco but I've never knowingly met him."
"And you're sure about that?"
Smith leaned forward. "Inspector, if you've got some evidence to suggest I knew Mr Aitken, then please share it with me. Until your colleague and DS McNeill appeared the other night, I'd no idea he even existed."
"What about Kenny Souness?"
"Never heard of him either. Sorry."
Bain scribbled something down. "Have you started the insurance claim yet?"
Smith leaned back in the chair and crossed his legs. "My insurer wrote it off and a claim's now in progress."
"I see. How much is the car worth?"
"That particular beast cost me eighty grand." Smith reached into a desk drawer to retrieve a paper folder. "A like-for-like replacement will be in the region of ninety. The custom engine's risen significantly since." He tossed the folder onto the desktop. "Have a look, if you want. In case you think I may benefit in any way, I won't. That car was personally tuned by my mechanic here and ran like clockwork. I'm going to have to go through it all again, which will be a royal pain in the arse."
Bain flicked through the file. "Take me through the events surrounding the theft."
Smith smiled at Cullen. "I can get my assistant to make you a coffee if you want to sit this one out again."
Bain tossed the file on the desk, sending a few sheets spilling out. "Mr Smith, I want a detailed statement of what happened. We can do that at the station if you'd prefer but I don't imagine a busy man like yourself can spare the time."
"I'm just mindful of how many times I've told this story." Smith put the folder away. "There was DC Cullen and DS McNeill the other night. Before that, there was the young constable who took the initial call."
