Craig Hunter Books 1-3

by Ed James

  Hunter stared round at Jain. ‘What kind?’

  ‘Looked Japanese to me.’

  Hunter reached into his pocket for one of Elvis’s stills. ‘Was it this one?’

  ‘Aye, that’s the badger.’ Vickers took the photo and traced his finger over it. ‘Queerest thing, mind. The wing mirror was missing.’

  ‘Which side?’

  ‘Driver’s.’

  Jain stepped forward, getting in front of Hunter. ‘You definitely saw this?’

  ‘Hand on heart.’ Vickers stuck his hand to his chest. ‘My eyes are just sore, they’re not buggered.’

  Jain stormed out of the building’s front door and looked around. ‘Where the hell is she?’

  A car pulled up with flashing ambulance lights and an overweight man got out. He approached Jain and stopped her. ‘Chantal, I’d love to stop and chat, but do you know where the body is?’

  ‘Upstairs, Mr Deeley. Flat three.’

  ‘Catch you later, young lady.’ He splashed through a puddle on his way to the Crime Scene Manager.

  Hunter waved over at him. ‘That’s Jimmy Deeley?’

  ‘I prefer my Pathologists slimmer and less annoying…’

  ‘Got you.’ Hunter looked around the wet crime scene. ‘So, why are—’

  ‘Bloody freezing here.’ Lauren appeared between Hunter and Jain, rubbing her bare arms. ‘Summer should last longer than a day, right?’

  ‘You should move back to London.’

  ‘It was Kent, but if the Met’d take me…’ Lauren clapped Hunter’s arm. ‘The Pathologist’s given time of assault as three o’clock today.’

  ‘He’s only just got here, though.’

  Lauren shrugged. ‘Don’t question magic, Craig.’ Her Airwave chimed out. ‘Crap.’

  ‘And Jimmy Deeley’s the arch magician.’ McNeill appeared on the other side of Jain, nodding at her but ignoring Hunter. ‘Did you two get anything from the door-to-door?’

  ‘We’ve got statements from two of the neighbours. Next door saw and heard nothing.’ Jain pointed at the flats. ‘Downstairs saw a red Hyundai matching the description. Still don’t know who was driving it. We’re lucky to get that much. The guy just had his eyes lasered.’

  McNeill shook her head. ‘He’s not going to be a credible witness if he’s just had bloody eye surgery.’

  ‘He’s giving a full statement to one of my DCs.’ Jain waved over at the block of flats. ‘He walked past the car. Used to own that model. A Hyundai Santa Fe.’

  ‘We’ll need to get a bloody surgeon in to testify before this guy.’ McNeill frowned at Jain. ‘It’s the same car that attacked Craig and kidnapped Stephanie?’

  ‘One and the same.’

  McNeill stared up at the sky, shaking her head. ‘Right. A kidnapping and now a murder. Superb.’

  Lauren approached, tapping her Airwave. ‘That was Buchan. He’s finished with the SIO.’

  ‘They’re here already.’ Jain jabbed a finger at a white Range Rover Vogue. ‘Crystal Methven.’

  An athletic-looking man from the driver’s side, his wild eyebrows acting like antennae as his head swivelled around.

  Cullen followed him out of the passenger seat, talking into his super-sized iPhone as he splashed into a puddle. ‘Bollocks!’

  ‘That’ll be the MIT, then?’

  ‘That’s the MIT.’ McNeill cupped her hands and shouted: ‘Scott!’

  Cullen stomped over, ending his call and pocketing his phone. ‘Well, guess who’s working this case?’

  ‘It’s a bloody mess in there, Scott.’ McNeill turned her nose up. ‘Looks like he spilled a bottle of Rioja.’

  ‘The joys. Sharon, Chantal, can I get a minute with you?’

  Hunter watched them traipse over to where the SOCOs were using their tent as a rain shelter. ‘So we’re just kicked off, Sarge?’

  ‘We’re better off out of it. Be grateful. This is getting worse.’

  ‘And it’s my fault. If I hadn’t let—’

  ‘Shhh.’ Lauren put a finger over his lips. ‘It’s a murder. Let them worry about it, okay? We’ve done everything by the book.’

  Hunter swallowed. ‘Aye…’

  ‘Haven’t we?’

  ‘Well, over and above Finlay twatting about on his phone, we didn’t exactly get access to the flat by fair means. Thought we smelled skunk.’

  ‘Was this you or your little friend?’

  ‘Me, Sarge.’

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Lauren jabbed his chest with her finger. ‘Make sure your notebooks are in complete alignment, understood?’

  Hunter reached into his pocket for his. ‘I’ll get a head start, Sarge.’

  ‘Good idea. Well, I’m off to make a nuisance of myself.’ Lauren wandered over to the tents, rubbing her arms more frantically than ever.

  Hunter got into the pool Vectra and took out his pen, leaving the door open. He jabbed the nib into the paper.

  Bloody car, kidnapping people, killing people.

  Bloody—

  ‘Craig, you got a minute?’ Cullen was peering round the car door.

  Hunter closed his notebook. ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I’m going to need you to brief my team.’

  31

  ‘Okay, that all looks good.’ Cullen looked around his assembled troops, ten or so officers huddled together in the makeshift SOCO tent.

  Hunter was at the very edge, getting the occasional spray of warm rain down his left leg.

  Elvis was next to him, gradually nudging him further towards the outside.

  ‘Sir.’ Cullen nodded at the guy with the eyebrows as he barged into the fray. ‘And we shouldn’t forget that Stephanie Ferguson is still missing. She was last seen this morning, abducted by persons unknown.’ Then he nodded at Hunter and Lauren in turn. ‘We’ve got the resource from the preceding investigation allocated to this, at least for the time being. I want us to focus on suspects here.’ He kept his gaze on Hunter. ‘Craig, do you want to take us through where you’ve got to?’

  Hunter waited until his breathing was back under control before starting. ‘Okay, I’ll start with Stephanie’s stepfather—’

  ‘—this afternoon.’

  ‘Cheers, Craig.’ Cullen was noting everything down on his phone. He looked up at Hunter, his forehead creased to show he was paying attention. ‘One thing I don’t get is why Doug Ferguson killed his stepdaughter’s natural father?’

  ‘They’ve got previous, Sarge. Ferguson collected Quarrie from prison on his release and made it clear he should leave and not come back, if you catch my drift. If he’s done this, it’s a vigilante action.’

  ‘Seen a few of those in my time.’ Cullen gave a smug laugh. ‘So, do you think Mr Ferguson has got someone to abduct her?’

  ‘It’s possible. She was telling us about him and what he’s been doing. That’s put him on our radar.’ Hunter raised a hand. ‘And I mean Police Scotland’s radar, not mine.’ He expected a chorus of laughter but just got Elvis mouthing “wanker”. He cleared his throat. ‘We just need a statement from Stephanie and Mr Ferguson will be avoiding normal courtyard exercise for a couple of years. Then the pitchforks will be out wherever he goes.’

  No laughter at that, either. Bastards.

  Cullen held Hunter’s gaze. ‘You think he was abusing her?’

  ‘I believe her.’

  Lauren raised a hand. ‘We’ve got units out trying to bring Mr Ferguson in.’

  ‘Cheers.’ Cullen pointed at two male officers on the far side. ‘Stuart, can you and Si have a word with him when he pitches up?’

  The skinhead snorted. ‘Sure thing, Sarge.’ Cockney accent, mangled with a bit of local flavour.

  Was that Simon Buxton? How the hell had he got into the MIT?

  Hunter nodded at Cullen. ‘Another thing, Sarge, is that Ferguson got a message out to a mate through his lawyer. Hamish Williams.’

  ‘I’m aware of his work.’ Cullen groaned. ‘What was the message?’

  ‘We fo
und one David Boyle lurking in their back garden last night. Gave chase, didn’t catch him.’

  Cullen scrolled back up on his mobile, his thumb flicking and flicking. ‘This is the guy with the missing car, right?’

  ‘Allegedly missing.’

  ‘Sounds like it might be worth having another word with him.’

  Buxton gave another nod.

  Cullen slid his finger back down to the bottom of his phone’s screen. ‘What about the boyfriend? Neil Alexander, right?’

  Lauren shrugged. ‘He’s been helping the investigation.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So, what? He doesn’t know where Stephanie is.’

  ‘Right, well, we should speak to him again.’ Cullen nodded at an elfin girl next to him, her hair a deep red. ‘Eva, can you and Lauren do the honours?’

  ‘Sure thing, Sarge.’ Eva winked at Cullen. Turned Hunter’s stomach.

  Hang on… Eva. She’s the one spreading rumours about—

  ‘Cheers.’ Cullen looked up from his phone, Lauren getting all the attention now. ‘This teacher seems a bit weird. Why did she let the girl stay at her house?’

  ‘According to her statement, she was giving Stephanie time, trying to persuade her to come in and talk to us on her own terms.’

  ‘And you believe her?’

  ‘You should’ve seen what Stephanie was like with my team.’ Lauren tucked her fleece tighter. ‘She just wouldn’t speak. We were praying for a nod or a shake of the head, barely got anything. Seems like it was all she could manage just to tell her mum about the abuse.’

  Cullen tapped a note into his phone. ‘Well, let’s make sure we speak to her about Robert Quarrie, aye?’

  ‘That said, it’s possible this death isn’t connected to Stephanie’s case at all.’ Hunter cleared his throat, the lump of coal deciding to make another appearance. ‘There’s also Quarrie’s boss. He wasn’t impressed when I told him about his … history. Turns out Quarrie had lied on his application.’

  ‘Right, I’ll get someone to have a word, but I’m not treating that as serious.’

  ‘Your decision.’ Hunter tucked his thumbs into his jeans. ‘Of course, that brings up the fact that Quarrie was inside. He might’ve annoyed someone in there.’ He thumbed at Elvis next to him. ‘DC Gordon was looking into that.’

  ‘Elvis?’

  ‘Sarge?’

  ‘Have you got anything?’

  ‘I’ll get onto it, Sarge. Sorry.’

  Hunter leaned over to check what he was writing down. ‘And Quarrie was living in Stranraer for a bit. Might be worth another chat with Dumfries and Galloway, now he’s been murdered, aye?’

  ‘Good shout.’ Elvis narrowed his eyes as he stabbed his pen into his notebook. ‘I’m sure I’ll manage those, Craig.’

  Cullen shifted his gaze from them to take in the rest of the group. ‘Okay, let’s talk wider strategy.’

  ‘—grab me if and when you need to, okay?’ Cullen locked his phone and stuffed it into his jacket pocket. ‘Let’s get out there.’

  Hunter stayed standing as the group disbanded around him, just a trickle of water dribbling down the collar of his fleece.

  Cullen walked through, stabbing at his phone again.

  Hunter grabbed his arm. ‘What other help do you need from me?’

  ‘Well, Craig, that’s probably saved us a day of trying to work out what you’ve already investigated. You can just hang back for now, okay?’

  ‘I want to—’

  ‘Craig. We’re trained for this stuff and it’s our case now. Okay? Just need your operational statements and all the other paperwork you do in uniform these days.’ He grinned at Jain as she marched through the tent towards them. ‘Come on, Chantal, I’m short of a couple of skulls so let’s you and me speak to this teacher. Be just like the good old days.’

  Jain placed her hands on her hips. ‘The shite old days, you mean?’

  Hunter clenched his fists, fingernails biting into his palms. ‘Any chance of a lift back to Leith Walk?’

  ‘I’m telling you, you need to speak to DI McNeill about that.’ Hunter let his seatbelt ride up. The car park was quiet, just Fat Keith working away at the back end of the knackered Saab. He opened the door and put a foot on the concrete. ‘I know how annoying it must be to be taking orders from Cullen again, so have a word with her. She’s a DI, he’s a DS.’

  ‘Thanks for the advice.’ Jain killed the engine. ‘That I didn’t ask for.’

  Hunter put the other foot down and twisted round. ‘Do you fancy a drink?’

  ‘Craig…’ She rested her forehead against the steering wheel and let out a deep sigh. ‘I just need to get my head around this, so if you could just give me some space.’

  It’s like that, is it?

  Hunter’s mouth was dry. He tried to swallow, but nothing was shifting. ‘Okay.’

  ‘This is probably going to drag on and on tonight.’

  Hunter stood up tall and leaned into the Vectra. She was facing away from him, practically hugging the door. No chance of a goodbye kiss. ‘See you later.’

  ‘Aye.’

  Hunter traipsed across the car park. He got a warning glare from Keith so headed for the stairwell and the locker room.

  The stair door burst open and Finlay stomped out, the upturned collar on his polo shirt standing at half-mast now. His face looked like he’d gone five full rounds of Mixed Martial Arts. ‘Oh, hey.’

  ‘You look like shite, mate. That can’t be from the attack this morning, can it?’

  ‘Is it that bad?’

  ‘Looks like you got thirteen seconds of Conor McGregor’s attention last night.’

  ‘Feels like it.’ Finlay patted the swelling over his left eyebrow. Didn’t add much to his beauty. Then again, it didn’t exactly take much away, either. ‘Prick clattered my head off the pavement. Doesn’t stop Lauren getting me back in here, though. Shouldn’t be back on active service, I tell you.’ He tugged his collar up again. ‘You got Krav Maga again tonight?’

  ‘Fancy a pint?’

  32

  Finlay supped at his lager, scowling around the pub like an old man in a miner’s welfare. ‘Hate what they’ve done to this place.’

  Hunter stared into his glass, the Jarl’s soupy head almost gone, even though it was still pretty much full. He looked around the Elm, a confused mix of off-duty cops and hipster students. ‘It was a shit hole before.’

  The heavily bearded barman poured a short glass of beer for a similarly hirsute man in skin-tight jeans. Behind them, another bearded man in a white chef’s get-up put a burger on a chopping board onto the serving hatch and rang a bell. Burnt beef smells infiltrated their half of the pub.

  ‘Maybe. But it was my shit hole.’ Finlay supped a long draught of his lager, managing to dribble most of it down his chin. No reaction. ‘Thought you’d stiff me again after last night.’

  Hunter took a sip of his beer, tangy and sweet. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Krav Maga, my arse. You were playing hide the sausage with Chantal, weren’t you?’

  ‘No comment.’

  ‘I saw you this morning, so don’t you “no comment” me.’

  ‘Like I told you, her car’s in the garage on Seafield. I saw her on Leith Walk. The bus had broken down.’

  ‘Aye, bollocks.’ Another long drink, this one actually going into his mouth. ‘Did she find your sausage in the end?’

  ‘See when you lost that bollock, did—’

  ‘Did you shag her?’

  ‘I’m not telling you.’ Hunter nudged his pint away until it clinked off Finlay’s glass. ‘See when you lost that bollock, you must’ve got a packet, right? Why are you still working?’

  ‘It was only five grand, mate. Can you credit it?’ Finlay finished his beer. ‘Get half a mill for losing a leg. A half-empty scrotum and you’ll be lucky to get change from a new kitchen.’ He burped into his hand. ‘Still haven’t cooked in it yet.’

  ‘Jesus.’ Hunter reache
d for his pint and took another sip before pushing the glass away again. ‘That tastes off.’

  ‘Sure it’s not you?’ Finlay gave him a wink. ‘Sure it’s not because Cullen’s sidelined you?’

  ‘Maybe.’ Hunter flattened his arms across the table top and rested his head on his hands. ‘I thought I missed doing proper detective work, but I’ve had the shit kicked out of me, what, three times? And the shit Jain and McNeill deal with. Doesn’t bear thinking about.’

  ‘Speaking of which, how did the interview go?’

  ‘How the hell do you manage to know everything that’s going on and still be such a shite detective?’

  ‘Professional secret, jabroni.’ Finlay tapped his nose and nodded at his beer. ‘You going to finish that?’

  ‘Be my guest.’

  ‘Cheers.’ Finlay took a long drink of Hunter’s pint. ‘Not the best, that. How did it go, then?’

  Hunter just shrugged.

  ‘Whatever will I do without you?’

  ‘Arse about on your phone…’

  Clunk. ‘Evening, boys.’ Cullen sat down at the next table, a burger and a bottle of Brewdog in front of him. ‘Mind if I sit here?’

  Hunter picked up his jacket and put it on his lap. ‘Thought you’d still be on duty.’

  ‘I am. Problem is, I’m barred from the canteen now. Guilt by association.’ Cullen took a big bite out of his burger. Meat fat dribbled down his hands.

  Hunter had to look away, his stomach churning at the sight. And the smell. Could almost taste it.

  ‘Bollocks.’ Cullen grabbed a handful of serviettes and started dabbing at his wrists. ‘This should come with a health warning.’

  ‘Right, boys, I’m off home.’ Finlay thunked his glass down on the table and got up. ‘That stuff’s playing merry hell with those pills the doc gave us. Night.’

  ‘See you in the morning, Fin.’