Bottleneck (22 page)

"See, there's another coincidence," said Cullen. "Mr Strang sent an email which included the term
Black Matt
. You think that's merely a coincidence?"

"I'm not black, am I?" said MacLeod. "I'm as white as you pair. I know the police don't like a person of colour, do you?"

The lawyer's eyes bulged. He leaned over and whispered in MacLeod's ear.

"Do you wish to retract that comment?" said Guthrie.

"Aye," said MacLeod. "I didn't mean anything by it. Sorry."

"So, just for the record," said Cullen, "the phrase
Black Matt
means nothing to you?"

MacLeod leaned forward. "This has got nothing to do with your sister, has it?"

Cullen scowled. "Why would it?"

MacLeod looked at Guthrie. "I slipped his sister a length back in the day. Don't think Mr Cullen got over that. Maybe he fancied a go up her."

Cullen gave him his business card, still on Lothian & Borders stationery, his hand shaking. "If you think of anything then please don't hesitate to call," he said, through gritted teeth.

"Of course I won't," said MacLeod, getting to his feet, grinning wide.

Guthrie arranged for a uniform to show them out then closed the door.

"I never liked that fucker," said Cullen.

"Tell me this has nothing to do with him going out with your sister?" said Guthrie.

"Nothing," said Cullen. "I'd totally forgotten about it."

"Really?" said Guthrie. "You've been forgetting a lot recently."

Cullen shrugged. "I told you, I'm stressed and tired. Got a lot going on in my private and professional lives."

"The way you were going at him there, I almost started to feel sorry for him."

"That would take a lot," said Cullen.

"You're telling me," said Guthrie. "So, what do you reckon, then?"

"I need to get approval to investigate him," said Cullen. "Maybe put a tail on him."

"You think he's a suspect?"

"I do. He's got a clear motive and potential opportunity in Edinburgh."

"I still don't get how they could have had a fight beneath Edinburgh and Strang ended up dead," said Guthrie. "Why there?"

"Good place to hide a body," said Cullen. "He'd never have been found if those kids hadn't read
The List
." He tried to think it through logically. "They could have met in a pub and then MacLeod found out about the practice rooms. He went there and they got into a fight. Who knows?"

"This is your case," said Guthrie, raising an eyebrow.

"I'm going to get approval for surveillance on MacLeod," said Cullen.

Guthrie looked at the ceiling. "You mean me, don't you?"

Cullen nodded. "Of course."

"Remind me never to hit on your sister."

Cullen got back to Leith Walk just after one, heading straight for the Incident Room. It was empty.

His stomach rumbled, the booze and chips calories having been spent. He headed to the canteen for lunch, opting for macaroni cheese and more chips.

He spotted Buxton and Rarity and joined them.

"Welcome back, Constable," said Rarity. "I trust your head is sufficiently clear?"

Cullen snorted. "Something like that." He eyed the industrial-strength coffee on his tray.

Between mouthfuls, he gave her an update on the slight progress he'd made in Dalhousie - the emails, Strang's sister and Matt MacLeod.

"That's something, I suppose," said Rarity. "Nothing else?"

"Think it's dried up," said Cullen. "And how's it going here?"

"We're progressing," said Rarity. "That's about all I can say."

"How far?" said Cullen. He doubted they were any further forward.

Rarity ran her hand through her hair. "Have you any avenues you wish to progress?"

"I want surveillance put on MacLeod," said Cullen.

"That's quite an expense," said Rarity.

"Look, I've brought you a clear suspect," said Cullen, "all I need is two bodies to tail him for a few days to see if he does anything dodgy."

"We're talking twelve hour shifts," said Rarity. "The cost will soon build up. I'm not sure I can sanction that. It seems a bit far-fetched and I'm not sure it isn't a personal vendetta."

"Excuse me?"

"You head home for a couple of days and then come back with someone you were at school with as a suspect."

"He's got means and opportunity," said Cullen.

"And no evidence," said Rarity.

Cullen was close to losing his cool. "That's why I want him tailed."

Buxton frowned. "Why do you think it's him?"

"He's got previous," said Cullen. "He bullied Strang at school. He lives through here, said he met Strang a couple of times."

"Why would he kill him, though?" said Buxton. "Seems extreme."

"This isn't one of the good guys," said Cullen. "He's a nasty piece of work. I suspect he's lying low, waiting for the coast to clear here. The discovery of the body was in the press, right?"

Rarity nodded.

"Well, then," said Cullen.

"We'll need to get Superintendent Turnbull to approve the budget." She prodded a finger at Cullen. "You're lucky. Before yesterday, it would have been cross-division, but the MIT's remit is national. You went on the training so you know where I'm coming from with this."

Cullen looked away. "Can we go and see Turnbull, please?"

"Fine," said Rarity.

Turnbull ushered them into his office. He had five minutes between meetings about the new structure. Cullen thought there seemed to be a continual review in place, the old command and control model transitioning perfectly to the new world.

"Now, how can I help you?" said Turnbull.

Rarity laid out the case, slightly more succinctly than Cullen had put it. Coming from her it sounded simple and rational, rather than confused and insane like his summary.

"And this is all entirely on the level?" said Turnbull, looking at Cullen.

Cullen nodded. "This is based on intel I pick up in Dalhousie, sir. I was doing some background checks into Strang. It initially came from his sister."

"I see," said Turnbull. "I do feel we might need to round-table this. Has DCI Cargill been briefed?"

"Not yet," said Rarity.

Turnbull frowned. "So, you've gone over her head?"

"We couldn't find her," said Rarity, "and this is, of course, a pressing operational matter."

"I see." Turnbull swivelled his chair round to look out of the window onto Leith Walk. "I have to admit I am more than moderately concerned about the potential reputational ramifications of this surveillance."

"How so?" said Cullen.

"This is my call and mine alone," said Turnbull. "There's a somewhat unhealthy blame culture forming in the early days of the new structure, I'm afraid. You say MacLeod is based in Dalhousie?"

"Correct," said Rarity.

"Well, this will add non-Edinburgh resource to my budget," said Turnbull. "I cannot have this looking like a land grab."

"Sir, the suspect is normally based in Edinburgh," said Cullen. "Unless we bring him in, we might lose him."

"He might slip off the radar, is that it?" said Turnbull.

"Precisely," said Cullen. "As it stands, we have him in Dalhousie at his parents' house. We don't know how long he'll stay there."

"And this is genuinely your only suspect?" said Turnbull.

"Correct," said Rarity.

Turnbull looked at Cullen. "Constable, you'll know how I feel about vendettas. You're from Dalhousie, aren't you?"

Cullen shrugged. "That's got nothing to do with it."

Turnbull got to his feet and paced over to the window. "What are you expecting this surveillance to bring to the fore?"

"We'll know he's guilty if he makes a run for it," said Cullen. "Plus, we'll know where he is."

"Fine," said Turnbull. "It's approved, but I'm not particularly comfortable about this course of action."

"Thanks," said Rarity. "And noted."

"I want a full investigation into this MacLeod character," said Turnbull, "and I want you to dive down every avenue that presents itself. Am I clear?"

Cullen had no idea how one was supposed to dive down an avenue, but he nodded. "Absolutely, sir."

Rarity held the door open for him as Cullen followed her out to the stairwell. "I want to make it clear I've backed you up here."

"I appreciate it," said Cullen.

"Just so as you know," said Rarity, "if it subsequently transpires you're messing about with this, I will not hesitate in having you put on a disciplinary."

Cullen shook his head and walked past her.

Back at his desk, Cullen immediately called Guthrie. "It's approved."

"I'd say good," said Guthrie, "but this is going to be a nightmare."

"It's a chance to do some proper detective work," said Cullen, "rather than trying to find out who did a jobbie in the eighteenth
hole of the Championship course or however else you fill your days."

Guthrie laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

"My DS is just phoning yours," said Cullen. "Wait until you're formally notified but I'd personally find someone who isn't too irritating to sit in a car with for a few days. Let me know if anything comes up."

"You'll be the first to know," said Guthrie.

Cullen ended the call and logged it in his notebook.

Chantal huffily sat down next to him.

"You're in a good mood," said Cullen.

"I forgot just how shit this job could be," said Chantal.

"I'm continually reminded."

She laughed. "Good to see you back. Nice holiday?"

"Hardly a holiday."

"You've got that hungover look," said Chantal.

Cullen ignored her. "What have you been up to?"

"You're not my boss any more," said Chantal.

"I'm just asking."

Chantal looked him up and down for few seconds then slumped back in her chair. "Been on the phone with a lead from Strang's work. It turns out Strang was sleeping with the girlfriend of someone in the band."

This was news to Cullen. Another line from the poem jumped out at him.

Stealing what wasn't mine, taking what didn't belong to me, coveting my neighbour's wife.

"Any idea who it was?" said Cullen.

Chantal shook her head. "The boy said Strang was a shagger on the Russell Brand scale. I've got him coming in to give a proper statement this afternoon."

"Who do we think it is?"

"I think we can rule Beth out," said Chantal. "Pregnant woman with wedding ring and all that."

"This is nineteen months ago," said Cullen.

"Don't think it was her," said Chantal. "Beth worked at the shop, remember? They would surely have said he was getting it on with her, wouldn't they? Plus, she told us it wasn't her."

"I see your point," said Cullen. "It's definitely a girlfriend of someone in the band?"

"Definitely," said Chantal. "Which leaves David Johnson or Alex Hughes."

"Hughes," said Cullen. "I would put money on Johnson being gay."

"Is it the posh boy thing?"

Cullen shrugged. "I'm not being homophobic, I just think he could be, that's all."

"Those posh boys love to lull us girls into a false sense of security," said Chantal. "We think they're our mates, come shopping with us and then, all of a sudden, they're sticking the tongue in."

"Sorry I even mentioned it," said Cullen. "Right, so he was cheating with either Johnson's or Hughes' girlfriends. Which one?"

"We need to speak to Johnson and Marta Hunter," said Chantal.

"Did you get round to catching up with his psychoanalyst?" said Cullen.

Chantal patted her hair. "We spoke to him, but he pleaded patient confidentiality."

"Is it worth pushing him?" said Cullen.

"Not yet."

Cullen nodded. "Great. Come on, let's go and see Marta Hunter."

"Don't you want to run it past Rarity?" said Chantal.

"Not really."

"Your funeral."

Cullen knocked hard on Marta Hunter's door. After a while, the door pulled back on the chain, her sunken cheeks peering round the edge.

"Can we speak to you?" said Cullen.

Marta let them in. "Come on through." She staggered to the living room.

"No kids today?" said Cullen.

"They're with my mother," said Marta. "Had Glasgow police here earlier."

Cullen leaned against the window frame and frowned. Bain's squad should have cleared it with Methven as the Senior Investigating Officer on the Strang case. "What were they wanting?"

"It was just stuff about Alex," said Marta.

"What sort of thing?"

Marta shrugged. "Can't remember." She clearly found it amusing.

Chantal cut straight to the chase. "How well did you get on with James Strang?"

"Jimi?" Marta seemed thrown. "He was okay. Nice enough. Only used to see him when the band played."

"You never went to the pub or to the same parties, nothing like that?" said Chantal.

"Afraid not," said Marta. "I wasn't much for going out." She looked at her feet. "Would much rather stay in."

"You'd rather take drugs, is that it?" said Cullen.

"I'm not answering that," said Marta.

"Did Alex take heroin as well?" said Cullen.

"I'm not answering that either," said Marta. "Those Glasgow policemen were asking about it and they got nothing."

Chantal glared at Cullen before smiling at Marta. "We have reason to believe that James slept with a girlfriend of someone in the band. Obviously that removes Beth, but includes David Johnson and Alex Hughes. You were Alex's girlfriend at the time, Marta, weren't you?"

Marta nodded. "I was."

"Did you sleep with James Strang?"

Marta looked away. "I'm not answering that one without a lawyer."

Chantal knelt in front of her and spoke in a low voice. "Well, you'd better arrange one. You'll need some childcare while we take you in. I'd imagine it'll take more than a few hours to find a lawyer and that's before we start asking questions."

Marta scratched her wrist and stared into space. "Fine." She bit a nail. "I never had sex with Jimi but he tried it on with me once. Must have thought I'd be an easy junkie or something. I knocked him back."