Ghost in the Machine: An edge-of-your-seat serial killer thriller (DC Scott Cullen Crime Series Book 1)
Page 27
Back in the Incident Room, he got his mobile out and called Jenny Scott's number again. He picked his jacket up from the back of his chair, the phone clamped to his ear.
"This is Jenny, I'm not in the country just now so I might not have reception. Please leave a message and I'll try and get back to you."
Cullen left his umpteenth message. Where the hell was she?
He figured he had one last shot. Maybe McNeill was right and he was mental. After this, he would give in, let Bain get thrown out of court. Or worse, convict someone with scant evidence.
Miller wandered over. "That potion did the trick, by the way. I feel reborn."
"Glad to hear it," said Cullen. "How did you get on with that statement?"
Miller shrugged. "That Duncan boy's not got back to me yet."
Cullen nodded. "Can I borrow you for an hour? I need to go speak to somebody, and I might need corroboration."
eighty-nine
"I need you to tell me everything you can about Kim Milne's boyfriend at the time," said Cullen.
Amy Cousens frowned and sat forward on the armchair. "I don't remember much. I met him just the once. I think he worked at Alba Bank with Kim and Rob. Can't remember his name."
"What did he look like?"
Amy exhaled deeply. "This was a couple of years ago."
"Did he look like me?"
"Not really, no. He was much bigger."
Cullen pointed at Miller. "What like ADC Miller, was he big like him?"
"He's not big," said Amy, "he's just tall."
Miller raised his eyebrows and looked upset.
"I mean big," said Amy, "the same way that Rob's big. I think Kim maybe has a type."
"Thanks." Cullen nodded, thinking that could explain Bain seeing what he wanted to see on the CCTV footage. "Do you know what happened to him after Rob and Kim got found out?"
"I heard some stuff," said Amy. "He went off the rails a bit."
"How so?"
"He was stalking Kim for a bit, following her home, that sort of thing. Eventually he went back to his parents' house out in West Lothian somewhere."
"How do you remember that but not his name?" said Cullen.
"I'm bad with names." Amy shrugged. "We talked about West Lothian. My boyfriend at the time was from Linlithgow, near where he came from, and they were talking about it the night we went out for dinner."
"Do you know anything else about him?" said Cullen.
"I think Rob got him sacked from the bank."
Cullen frowned. "Are you sure?"
"Yes," said Amy. "Some guy they both knew told Caroline a few months ago. She told me when we were pissed once."
Cullen's mobile rang. "Keith, can you take a statement?"
Miller tried to act professional. "Aye, will do."
Cullen went into the kitchen.
"Will you accept the charges for the call?"
"Yes." Cullen hoped he didn't regret it.
"Connecting you now."
After a moment, he was through. "Hi, it's Jenny Scott."
Cullen leaned back against the kitchen wall. Finally.
"Sorry, I was out of reception area," said Jenny. "Then I moved on and got like fifteen voicemails from you. Thanks for accepting the charges."
"Okay, thanks for calling me back," said Cullen. "Are you still in Thailand?"
"I am."
Cullen felt relieved - it looked unlikely she had sent the messages to Kim.
"I assume it's important?" said Jenny.
Cullen realised she wouldn't know about Kim's death. "There are a couple of things. Are you with someone just now?"
"There's my boyfriend."
"Okay," said Cullen, "you might want to sit down."
"Go on."
"I'm sorry to have to tell you this," said Cullen, "but Kim Milne was found dead yesterday evening."
"Oh my God." Jenny started crying. "Is this some sort of wind-up?"
"No, Ms Scott, this isn't a wind-up. She was found dead at roughly seven thirty last night."
Pained gasps came down the line. "How did she die?"
"She was murdered."
"Have they got the bastard that did it?"
"Our investigations are ongoing."
Jenny paused for a few seconds. "How's Rob coping?"
"He's helping us with the investigations." Cullen waited a moment to let her start to process things. "There are a couple of things I'd like to ask you."
"Go ahead." Her voice was thick with tears.
"First, have you been sending messages to Kim on Schoolbook in the last couple of days?"
"Schoolbook? I've not been on the internet since I got out here."
"So you didn't send the messages?"
"Absolutely not."
"Someone's hacked into your account and sent some messages to Kim," said Cullen.
"Oh my God."
Cullen switched his phone to the other ear. "Did Kim have a boyfriend before she started seeing Rob?"
"Aye, she did," said Jenny. "He was an absolute prick. I never liked him."
"What was his name?"
"Duncan Wilson."
ninety
Kim
Tuesday 2nd August, 6.30pm
Kim sat in the kitchen, looking through paint swatches for the room.
She glanced at the clock on the wall - an antique she'd picked up in North Berwick a few months ago - and one of the few things she planned to keep in that room. Jenny was due any time. Rob might be home early and Kim wanted to keep them apart. She could chat with her in the kitchen, he could go and do whatever he did on the internet in the study.
She was worried for Jenny. She and Tom were a sure thing, as sure as anyone. She couldn't believe they'd had such a bad argument she'd want to come back to Edinburgh so soon after leaving. She opened up her laptop and checked Schoolbook to see if there were any more messages. There weren't. She re-read the last few - classic Jenny.
"Can't believe it either. She was from Sheffield. I'm flying home from Phuket tonight. Jenny x"
"No, I left in a real hurry. Left most of my stuff behind, including my phone. Can I stay at yours? Jenny x"
"Thanks! I'll get the bus in and walk down, think I'll be there by half six. Don't meet me at the airport - I'll be fine on the bus, it's quicker. Could do with seeing Edinburgh. Jenny x"
The buzzer went. She went over and let her up. She opened the door and waited in the doorway, listening to Jenny trudge up the stairs, slow and steady. Her mobile rang in the kitchen. She dashed inside and picked it up. An unknown number. She bounced it to voicemail and went back to the front door.
A fist slammed into her face. She fell back, her fingers scrabbling at the wall.
She looked up and saw a face she hadn't expected to see again, followed by another fist connecting with her jaw.
ninety-one
Cullen pulled the street door open and they headed out to the car. As they walked, Cullen tried to call the superior officers - Bain's mobile was engaged, McNeill wasn't picking up, Irvine the same. He was even considering calling Wilkinson.
He tried to piece it together in his mind.
Duncan Wilson was Kim's boyfriend.
He'd lost Kim to Thomson.
He was sacked by Thomson.
It was a bit extreme to go on a killing spree, but Cullen had heard of lesser grievances being settled the same way. This would show Bain. This was the silver bullet to tear the case apart.
They got in the car and Miller drove them towards the station.
Cullen's phone rang - Kidd.
"Finally."
"What do you mean?" said Cullen.
"I've been trying you for the last quarter of an hour."
"Sorry, but I've been trying to nail this case down. Is it important? I need to speak to Bain."
"You bet your life it's important," said Kidd. "I've been looking into Jenny Scott's account. There's some metadata he's not blocking. And I've managed to find another account that's been h
acked into, same as Jenny's."
"Go on."
There was a pause. "It's yours."
Cullen couldn't speak.
"Scott, this guy's hacked into your account and has been sending messages to some girl," said Kidd.
"My account?"
"Aye," said Kidd. "He's been sending messages to someone called Alison Carnegie. Is that your bird?"
"No, it's not," said Cullen. "What do the messages say?"
"Stuff about meeting up last night."
Cullen swallowed. He felt sick to the stomach. That was why Alison thought there was more going on between them than he did. That explained her pitching up at his flat and all the confusion. Why him, though? Why pick on him?
He ended the call.
"Who was that?" Miller pulled in at the lights on Leith Walk, indicating left for the station.
"Charlie Kidd." Cullen opened the Schoolbook app and went to the messages from Alison Carnegie. There they were - a chain between him and Alison, messages he'd never sent. Soppy, cloying stuff, nothing like him.
Katie had called earlier, looking for Alison. Cullen started to worry about what had happened to her.
He called her phone. Nothing.
He called Katie.
"Katie Lawson." Her phone voice still sparkled.
"Katie, it's Scott. Has Alison been in touch yet?"
"No, I was just about to call you again. She's still not turned up. I went home and she's not there. Her phone's not even ringing."
Cullen felt queasy - he was being set up for a murder. "I'll find her."
He hung up, fervently hoping when he found her she was still alive.
He desperately needed to see Duncan Wilson.
They were still sat in the middle of the road, indicating left, still hadn't got through the lights.
"Head to Portobello," said Cullen.
"Come on, man, I'm not giving you a lift home."
"Keith, just do it. This is serious. We're going to visit Duncan Wilson."
ninety-two
They stood outside the entrance to the block of flats. Cullen pressed the button for Duncan Wilson.
"Who is it?"
"It's the police," said Cullen.
"In you come."
The door buzzed open. Cullen led the way, taking the steps two at a time, right up to Wilson's flat. He hammered at the door. The stairwell was a lot brighter during the day. He looked up at the glass ceiling - there was a ladder leading up to the roof.
Finally, Wilson's front door opened. He stood there in jeans and a t-shirt. "How can I help?"
"I need to ask you a few questions," said Cullen. "We can do it here or down the station."
Wilson frowned. "I went in this morning at your insistence, but I'm more than happy to come back in."
Cullen pushed past him into the flat. "Here will be fine. We've been unable to corroborate the story about death threats you gave to my colleague."
Wilson led them through to his living room at the far end of the flat. He sat on an armchair, leaving Cullen and Miller to the sofa.
"Nice place," said Cullen.
"I bought it a few years ago," said Wilson. "It didn't cost that much at the time, but its value has soared."
Cullen nodded slowly. "Not working today?"
"I don't work nine to five at Schoolbook. It's a twenty-four seven thing. Got a few days off just now, then I'm in nights. I'm sure a policeman would understand that."
Cullen leaned forward on the sofa. "Can you describe your relationship with a Kimberly Milne."
"I told you on the phone last night." Wilson sighed. "We briefly worked together."
"You didn't mention you were in a relationship with Ms Milne for six years."
Wilson frowned. "Who told you this?"
"A friend of Ms Milne's," said Cullen.
"Sorry, the wounds are still a bit raw, you know? We only broke up last year."
"So I gather," said Cullen. "Was it Rob Thomson who moved in on your territory?"
"Aye, it was." Wilson looked out of the window, avoiding Cullen's gaze. He turned back, his eyes locking on. "What's this about? I've given you my source."
"I'm afraid we need a further source of corroboration," said Cullen, "now Ms Milne is deceased."
Wilson swallowed. "What?"
"She was found murdered at her flat last night," said Cullen.
There was a crash from another room. Wilson looked at the sitting room door.
"What was that?" said Cullen.
"Think it was outside," said Wilson.
The crash sounded again. Then a cry. "Scott!"
"Miller, keep an eye on him." Cullen left the room and went into the hall. "Hello?"
There was another noise from behind a door to the right, away from the flat entrance.
Cullen dashed for the door and tore it open. A bedroom. Alison lay tied up on the bed.
ninety-three
Alison
Tuesday 2nd August, 11.08pm
Alison stormed out of the stairwell onto Portobello High Street. She turned right and powered on towards the bus stop.
Scott Cullen is a total prick. He just used her like Katie had warned he would. He shagged her on Friday and couldn't get away quick enough. In hindsight, their date on Monday night had been a farce - he'd seemed distant and evasive. Then he'd rushed off again, some crap about a murder - like there were that many in bloody Edinburgh.
She walked past the five-a-side football pitches and realised she didn't know where she was going or how the hell she was getting home. The bus ticker wasn't showing one for another half an hour. She stopped just ahead of the traffic lights at King's Road and waited for a taxi to come along.
She couldn't reconcile the messages on Schoolbook to Scott's behaviour. They'd been so devotional - like she'd met Mr Right. In person and on the phone, Scott had seemed like such a prick. He'd been charm personified on Friday night, all those jokes about uniforms.
Two occupied taxis rolled past in quick succession.
She looked at the kerb and wanted the drain to swallow her up. Her anger was subsiding and she just wanted to be at home in bed with a glass of wine.
"You needing a lift?"
She looked up. A man in a silver car had pulled in, his window wound down. He was smiling, looked friendly.
"Where you going?"
He smiled. "Southside. Marchmont."
She thought about it for a split second - getting into a car with a stranger was stupidity, but she wanted to be home. She opened the passenger door and got in.
"Can you drop me at Grange Loan?"
***
Duncan Wilson stopped the car halfway round the park at Arthur's Seat.
"Why are you stopping?" asked Alison.
He punched her in the mouth, grabbed her by the hair. He pulled the tape out of the door pocket and covered her mouth. He swiftly bound her wrists together, taping her hands to the dashboard.
"Keep your mouth shut," he said.
She whimpered behind the tape. He punched her again, knocking her out. He panicked and hoped he hadn't killed her or seriously injured her. He needed her alive.
He wasn't as comfortable with this one - it wasn't part of his main objective. It was like Debi or Gail, maybe one seemingly random killing too many.
But that policeman... Scott Cullen. He'd met the arrogant bastard at Schoolbook, and spoken to him about those extracts he'd done for that idiot Kidd. When Cullen called just before eight, just after Duncan had killed Kim, he knew he had to act. He was getting too close, dangerously close to working out that it wasn't Rob that killed those women, dangerously close to working out that it was him.
He hacked into Cullen's Schoolbook account, like he'd done so many times that week since they'd met - like he'd done to so many of their accounts - and his course of action became clear. He'd been setting Alison up, Cullen's girlfriend. They hadn't been going out that long, so they weren't hand in pocket - there should be an opportunity to grab her.
He used Cullen's mobile to track him down by GPS - watched him at Rob Thomson's flat, back at the station, in a pub, then at his flat.
Duncan had been outside Cullen's and saw Alison go in. He waited for an hour and saw Cullen arrive. He sprung into action not long after Alison left, watching her head along Portobello High Street. He'd diverted via the park by Arthur's Seat so that he didn't make a big breadcrumb trail home.
But now he was heading home with his bounty unconscious beside him. Maybe he'd take his time with her.
ninety-four
Cullen rushed forward. Alison had silver duct tape partially covering her mouth, like it was done in a hurry. He pulled the remaining tape off and started untying the rope.
"Scott, oh my God." She sucked in air.
Cullen held her. "It's going to be okay."
A scream came from the living room.
"Wait here." Cullen went back into the hall, just as a figure disappeared into the stairwell. He ran into the living room.
Miller lay on the floor, his white shirt slowly turning red. His eyes rolled, struggling to focus. "Fucking..." He clutched at his chest.
Cullen kneeled and pulled his mobile out. He struggled to control his fingers, as he called Bain and told him to get the fuck over there with an ambulance.
Miller tried to sit up. "Go get the fucker, Scotty, I'll be fine."
Cullen hesitated for a moment, then ran out of the flat. He looked down the stairwell. An old man was slowly climbing up, carrying a bag of shopping.
"Did anyone come down the stairs?" said Cullen.
"No, son."
"Call the police."
Cullen looked up - the ceiling hatch was open. Wilson was going to cut across the roof and descend another stairwell. Cullen didn't have time to work out which one, he'd have to go after him. If Cullen waited outside, Wilson could hide in any of the flats. He pulled himself up the ladder, hanging precariously over the centre of the stairwell, and climbed up onto the roof. He couldn't see Wilson.