by Ed James
"I'm driving," said Cullen.
*
Garleton High School sat on the Berwick Road, heading from the town centre out to North Berwick and Athelstaneford. It was a big 70s glass and concrete affair, typical of Scottish municipal buildings of the era, sprawling across a wide area. There was a six storey tower section at one corner. Cullen had attended a similar-looking school in Dalhousie and remembered how much of a nightmare it had been trying to navigate the inside of the school when every single pupil was walking along the main two corridors at every class change, due to some bizarre timetable decisions. Cullen had imagined that these schools were a dying breed but not all of them had been replaced in the PFI boom of New Labour and Garleton High was one of the legacy schools still running. It did look as though there had been some construction work started on the site, but it seemed to have been halted, no doubt a casualty of the austerity measures. Garleton High sat alongside large playing fields with football, rugby and hockey pitches and was just across from the public park at Garleton Castle Grounds.
As they crossed the car park, Cullen was reminded of Sharon's sister and his pseudo-niece, Rachel, and that she would most like be going to Garleton High in the summer, and the family would be tied into the Garleton community that he had met that morning.
At the school reception, Cullen filled out the visitor forms for both of them - it wasn't far off what he'd have to fill out for putting someone in a cell.
Mandy's teacher met them there and escorted them up the stairs to his classroom. Jonathan Hulse was a tall thin man with a beard and unkempt greying hair. He sat behind an old lacquered wood effect desk. Cullen and Lamb pulled two of the larger chairs over to sit in front of his desk. Hulse's class had broken up at 2.30 when his special needs pupils joined a mainstream class for Music, taking his classroom assistant with them and giving him some space to think and plan for the rest of the afternoon.
Cullen remembered Music at High School being a total doss - kids with no musical ability being forced to sing Cliff Richard or Joseph, using the lesson as an opportunity to piss about. There were a few who had been forced into learning an instrument from a young age, who had to take an interest, but Cullen had not been one of them.
Hulse's classroom looked to Cullen to be more like a primary school room, despite being in a High School. He had two large whiteboards on adjacent walls, scrawled with different words. One whiteboard had 'Hello' written in big words and the other had a few words written with each individual letter underlined - 'Cat', 'Pigeon' and 'Fireman' with the most prominent being 'Sailor'.
Hulse gave a nervous laugh as Cullen checked out the content of the boards. "We had a new girl join the class today," he said, pointing to 'Hello'. His accent was Home Counties, not a hoarse Essex or Cockney, but a more refined Oxbridge. "A young girl called Katie with Down's syndrome, I'm afraid."
"And 'Sailor'?" asked Lamb.
Hulse smiled. "We were playing a game," he said. "They had to guess a letter at a time. It took them an hour to do all four."
Cullen smiled politely. "It must be quite challenging dealing with disabled kids," he said.
Hulse gave a shrug. "I find it quite rewarding, actually," he said. "We're fortunate here, what with the kids being integrated into the school which gives no end of benefit."
"I bet it has its challenges," said Cullen.
"It does, yes," said Hulse. "There have been instances of bullying over the years but nothing too severe, mostly just ignorant teasing. It might be the best High School in the Lothians but it does have some individuals who try to bring the rest of the school down to their level."
"Care to name any names?" asked Lamb.
"Fortunately, the worst of them is no longer a pupil," he replied. "Jamie Cook was one of the worst abusers of my pupils."
Cullen and Lamb exchanged a look.
"Could you give a few examples?" asked Cullen.
"Nothing that springs to mind," replied Hulse, "but it became quite vindictive towards the end of his time here, that last six months. Of course, it's improved now that he's gone but there are still some kids who take that as a shining example of how to behave."
"Any names?" asked Lamb.
"I would give you them if I had them," replied Hulse. "Unfortunately some of my kids who receive the worst of the abuse tend to keep things to themselves. There are two children with Asperger's Syndrome who find it very difficult to communicate and yet most of the communication to them is abuse."
Cullen cleared his throat. "Thank you for the insight," he said. "The reason that we're here, as I'm sure that you can guess, is because of what happened to Mandy Gibson."
Hulse looked down at the desk and took a deep, long breath. "I heard," he said, his voice small and shrill. "I hope you catch the bastard," he added, looking up at them, fire in his eyes.
"We are trying to," said Cullen. "One thing that would help us is to understand a bit more about Mandy, her classmates and any of the abuse that you referred to, that may have been directed at her."
"Mandy was a very troubled girl," he said. "She had severe disabilities. There were a few occasions where I was close to recommending that she be moved out of semi-mainstream education into more specialist treatment, but it was resisted by her parents and the Head. It was horrible what had happened to her." A tear slid down his face, getting lost in the depths of the beard. "Her parents once played me a video of her before the accident. She seemed like such a sweet girl - it's hard to reconcile. Most of the kids I deal with have been the way they are since childhood. With Mandy it was different."
"Did she have any close friends?" asked Cullen.
"None in my class really," replied Hulse. "She did seem to have an affinity with Susan Russell. Susan is very engaging - she used to spend some of her time helping in my class, which I massively appreciated."
"Did you know anything about Mandy disappearing?" asked Lamb.
"You'd have to speak to the parents about that," said Hulse.
"Nothing at all?"
Hulse sighed. "I'm afraid that I heard about it, but that's all," he said. "My pupils are very troubled and their home lives can often be disturbed. I try to give any support to their parents but, really, I need to keep some sort of distance from it. I'm dealing with very problematic children and it is very easy to let it badly affect you."
"Okay," said Cullen. "Now, when you talk about the abuse that your kids would receive, was there any directed at Mandy?"
Hulse screwed his eyes shut and gave a strange grimace, his cheeks fleshing out and his chin moving up. "Not since Jamie Cook left anyway."
*
Cullen and Lamb waited in a meeting room just off the Head Teacher's office. The room was obviously used for family visits - it was decorated in a traditional manner, with soft furnishings, rugs and drapes over the armchairs, giving a luxurious feel to prospective parents. They sat at a formal meeting table in the window that overlooked the car park - Cullen thought that it had more cars than it should for a school and town of that size. He half wondered if there was a different room for the parents of kids who were about to be expelled.
The door opened and the Head Teacher led Malcolm Thornton in. The Head was a thickset man in his mid-50s, Cullen guessed, his bright ginger hair now receding and turning a lighter shade as white hairs started to appear. He wore a tweed suit with a pink shirt and bowtie.
Malcolm Thornton looked to be as tall as his father although he was not yet seventeen. He looked very nervous, despite an air of aggression and rebellion about him. His hair was short and gelled back like a few footballers Cullen could mention, and his school uniform had a few liberties taken with it - the top button of the white shirt undone, the black and red striped tie lazily done and hanging loose, the shirt sleeves rolled up and he wore black jeans worn hanging off the hip rather than trousers.
"Malcolm," said the Head Teacher, "these are the police officers to see you." He sat Thornton down at the table in front of them then left the room
.
Lamb smiled at Malcolm, who leaned back on his chair and tried to look casual and assured. His flushed face gave away his obvious nerves. Cullen clocked him for a young man who was used to acting calm and in control in front of authority.
"Do you remember me?" asked Lamb.
"Vaguely," said Malcolm. His voice was almost too deep, as if it had only recently broken. "You picked Jamie up on Saturday, didn't you?"
"I did indeed," said Lamb with a grimace. "Where is he, Malcolm?"
"I've no idea," said Malcolm with a cocky smile.
"You sure about that?"
"Positive."
"You are aware that Amanda Gibson's body turned up this morning?" asked Lamb.
Cullen sat back and watched Malcolm recoil. Obviously the school rumour mill hadn't been as good as in Cullen's day. There would no doubt be an announcement soon; the PM would be finished and it would have to be released to the media.
"You may know her as Mandy," said Lamb.
"I know who she is," said Malcolm, quietly. He was trying to stay cool and in control but his voice betrayed him.
"And I'll ask you again, Malcolm," said Lamb, "where is Jamie Cook?"
"Why do you want to see him?" he asked.
"We want to see him because we have some questions we want him to answer," said Lamb, "and because we can't find him. He's disappeared on the day that an acquaintance of his has been found dead. That is a bit of coincidence and if we found out that he had people helping him stay hidden then they'd be in some trouble as well."
Malcolm looked at Lamb with wide eyes. He cleared his throat. "I've honestly no idea," he said, speaking slowly and quietly. "Last I saw of Jamie was you arresting him on Saturday. I got a text from him yesterday saying that he was out of the nick but that was it."
"He's a bad boy," said Lamb.
"You keep saying that," said Malcolm.
"I keep hearing it," said Lamb.
Malcolm shook his head. "People have it in for Jamie," he said, "but he's not that bad."
"Not that bad," said Lamb, making a show of scribbling it down in his notebook. "Were you at your Church yesterday?" he asked.
Malcolm sighed. "Yes... Wish I could just leave like Jamie did."
"Do you indeed?"
"It's a total joke that place," said Malcolm. "Mulgrew has our folks under a spell."
"Was Mandy Gibson there?" asked Cullen.
Malcolm looked away. "She was there, aye." He didn't say anything else.
Cullen glanced at Lamb. "Malcolm," he said, his voice hard.
Malcolm shot a look at Cullen. "What?"
"Did anything happen to Mandy Gibson?" asked Lamb, rising to his feet, and staring at Malcolm.
"Well, aye..."
"Malcolm," snapped Lamb, "what happened to her?"
"I don't know how to say this..."
Lamb shouted at him. "I don't care, Malcolm, this is a murder inquiry."
"They performed an exorcism on her."
fourteen
Malcolm Thornton went into the details quickly, his rebel cool disappearing and a confused young boy coming to the surface.
"She started screaming during the service," he said. "It looked like she was having some sort of fit. She was screaming, just kept on shouting." He looked around then spoke in a whisper. "She kept shouting out 'Fuck!' and screaming 'No!'. She was like that for at least a minute." He gulped and started to speak louder. "Mulgrew came over and grabbed her by the shoulders. Her parents didn't know what to do. Mulgrew started shouting 'Get thee out of her, Satan!' over and over. A couple of others joined in, Mandy's Dad and Jamie's Dad. My Dad seemed to want to get involved but my Mum held him back. The three of them were like that, shouting at the Devil, eyes closed, for a few minutes." He paused for breath. "A couple of others joined in. It was really frightening, like in a film. It felt like there was electricity in the room. It felt like the devil really was in her."
"Do you believe that?" asked Cullen.
Malcolm shrugged. "You're told about it, every day like, and you don't believe it but then you see something like that. It was really frightening."
"What happened after this exorcism?" asked Cullen.
"Nothing much," said Malcolm. "Mandy's Dad took her away, out into their car."
"Did he say anything to anyone?" asked Cullen.
Malcolm strained his face in concentration. "He said something to Father Mulgrew, something like she should be better by now."
Cullen frowned. "Do you know what he meant by that?"
"No idea," said Malcolm. "Father Mulgrew does counsel all of us, though. Maybe he'd been trying to sort Mandy out for a long time. I don't know."
"Was Jamie Cook there?" asked Cullen.
"He's not been there for a long time, like," said Malcolm. "Not since he left school. His parents kept threatening to chuck him out of the house unless he went back but it never got that far."
Cullen thought that Lamb looked stunned; he obviously had no idea what went on behind the doors of the God's Rainbow church. He sat and thought for a moment - why had none of the parents mentioned this about Mandy? Of all the people they'd spoken to, none of them had mentioned the exorcism.
"What is this counselling?" asked Cullen.
"It's sort of like a confession, you know, like you see in films," said Malcolm. "But Mulgrew's sitting in the room across from you, not in some box next to you, like. And he doesn't tell you to do punishment for sins. He asks you what's been troubling you and stuff. He points out chapters of the Bible that might help."
"Do you find it useful?" asked Cullen.
"Not really," said Malcolm. "It's a load of nonsense. It feels like they're trying to indoctrinate us. Jamie used to do a funny impression of Mulgrew in the confession, used to crack me and Thomas up. That was the only good thing about the group, seeing Thomas and Jamie. It was never the same after Jamie left."
Cullen looked at Lamb, who just nodded. "Thank you, Malcolm, you've been very helpful."
*
"How come when I actually want to speak to Bain, he doesn't answer his phone?" said Cullen, as he pocketed his mobile.
Lamb laughed.
Cullen and Lamb were driving to Mulgrew's cottage. They had barely spoken since they left the school - that was the first either of them had said since they'd agreed to speak to Mulgrew.
Cullen's phone rang again as they pulled up in front of the small cottage. He noticed a small scratch on the screen, no doubt as a result of the skirmish with the youth earlier. The display had Bain's name.
Cullen answered it and Lamb got out of the car.
"Had a Missed Call from you, Sundance," said Bain. "I'm driving. You're on my hands free."
"Got some news for you," said Cullen, watching Lamb walk up the path to Mulgrew's cottage. "Mandy Gibson was apparently exorcised yesterday at this church service."
Bain was silent for what felt like minutes. "What fuckin' year is it, Cullen?" he said, eventually. "Nobody fuckin' exorcises anyone any more."
"We have it on good authority," said Cullen. "We're dealing with a pretty strange religious cult here. Malcolm Thornton told us that Mandy Gibson had been exorcised by Seamus Mulgrew during the session yesterday. She'd had some sort of fit and that's how he dealt with it. A few of the parishioners joined in with this exorcism."
Lamb turned and looked at Cullen. He shrugged his shoulders - no sign of Mulgrew.
"Fuckin' hell," said Bain. "What are you doing about it?"
"We're trying to speak to Mulgrew again," said Cullen. "Doesn't look like he's at his cottage."
"Don't make a fuckin' pest of yourself, Cullen, okay?" said Bain. "Christ knows I'm in enough fuckin' hot water already."
"Don't worry, I won't."
"When did you speak to Malcolm Thornton?" asked Bain.
"Just now," said Cullen.
"Sundance, I fuckin' told you to stay away from that fuckin' school."
"DS Lamb approved it."
"Right, well, Su
ndance," said Bain, "Irvine and I are just on our back way out. Head over to Garleton nick and we'll see you there in ten minutes."
"What about speaking to Mulgrew?" asked Cullen.
"I want to speak to you pair first," said Bain.
"Fine," said Cullen. He hung up the phone.
"Was that Bain?" asked Lamb as he sat back down.
"Aye," said Cullen, rubbing his forehead. "He wants us to head back to the station."
"Fine," said Lamb. "Mulgrew wasn't in."
"No surprises there," said Cullen, looking out of the window. The kids from before had moved on. He checked his watch - it was after school time. No doubt they'd still insist on bullying boys and chatting up girls despite not actually attending that day. He could see a steady stream of kids heading up Bangley Road, the most direct route from the high school, though it was a good two miles distant.
"The kids in these houses don't get dropped off by four by fours," said Cullen.
Lamb laughed. "Very true," he said.
"I spoke to some kids playing truant earlier," said Cullen.
"Spoke to or threatened?"
"Bit of both," said Cullen, with a laugh. "Mulgrew had been out trying to convert them, they said."
Lamb shook his head. "Nothing like having a zealot, is there?"
Gradually the line had broken up as the kids walked along the drives to their respective houses. There were still two or three heading up to the far end, most likely to the houses around Mulgrew's cottage.
Cullen opened his door. "Come on," he said, "let's do some more digging."
He climbed out and marched down the street. The first kid was a boy of about thirteen, overweight with bright ginger hair. Cullen held his warrant card out.
"Are you police?" the kid asked.
Cullen nodded. "Worse, we're detectives," he said, waiting for Lamb to catch up. "Detective Sergeant Lamb is local, but I'm from Edinburgh."
"Cool," said the boy, his eyes wide.
"Do you know the man who lives in the cottage at the end there?" asked Lamb.
The boy nodded his head. "Father Mulgrew," he said. "I live next door."
Cullen looked back down the street - wedged next to Mulgrew's old stone cottage was a row of four brown-harled council houses, the adjacent one almost touching.
