Bottleneck (34 page)

McCrea led Cullen back outside and shut the door behind him. "That's what she wore at the gig last night."

Cullen nodded. "How was it?"

"Fucking amazing," said McCrea. "Expect Delays were okay, but U2 were just off the planet. What a light show they've got."

"How do you want to play this?" said Cullen.

McCrea just shrugged. "The things I would do to her," he said, looking through the window in the door.

"Hopefully asking questions is one of them." Cullen pushed past him into the interview room.

McCrea sat down and started the interview, setting the digital recorder going.

"Do I need to get my lawyer in?" Jenny's voice was smoker deep.

"Unless you've done something you shouldn't have," said Cullen, "then no."

He noticed McCrea was practically drooling.

"We're looking for Mike Roberts," said McCrea.

"Why?" said Jenny. "What's he done now?"

"We have reason to believe he was responsible for the deaths of Alex Hughes and James Strang," said McCrea.

"Wait." Jenny frowned. "Jimi is dead?"

McCrea nodded. "Yes, I'm afraid so. He was found in Edinburgh last week."

Jenny shook her head. "I always thought he'd come back." She looked down at the table. "He used to follow me around like a little puppy."

"I bet you get that a lot," said McCrea.

Jenny scowled at him. "Less than you'd think."

Cullen put a couple of pieces together in his head - the Jane that Strang's mother alluded to was, in fact, Jenny. "Did you ever reciprocate his feelings?"

"Not likely," she said. "He wasn't my type."

"What's your type?" said McCrea.

Jenny frowned. "Is this relevant?"

"Do you have you any idea where Mr Roberts might be?" said Cullen.

"Well, I know his parents live in Linlithgow," said Jenny. "I'd check there if I were you."

Cullen jotted it down. That was something. "Looks like we'll have to. Can you think of any other people we should be speaking to?"

Jenny folded her arms. "You'll have spoken to Beth, right?"

"Beth Williamson?" said Cullen.

"Yeah," said Jenny. "She used to go out with Mike."

"You're joking," said Cullen.

"I'm serious."

Cullen sat back, trying to process it. They needed to speak to her again.

The door flew open. Bain entered the room. "I need you pair. Now."

McCrea ended the interview. "Thank you, Ms Stone, you're free to leave. The PCSO will show you to the car park."

In the corridor, Bain was pacing away from them. They had to jog to catch up.

"What's up?" said Cullen.

"My fuckin' car's turned up in fuckin' Motherwell," said Bain. "Lucky the bastard wasn't torched. You pair are coming with me."

"According to Stone," said Cullen, "Roberts' parents live in Linlithgow."

Bain stopped and punched his right fist into his other hand. "Right, that fuckin' town is getting torn apart."

Cullen lagged behind as Bain crossed the bus station at speed, McCrea and Cargill following at an increasing distance.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He got it out and checked the screen as he walked - a missed call from Sharon. He called her back. Voicemail. He pocketed it and hurried over.

Bain's car sat in a lane by the bus station, two parking tickets on the screen. A local uniformed officer stood by the vehicle, trying to act as professionally as he could with a manic DI shouting the odds in his face.

"For fuck's sake," said Bain. "I cannot fuckin' believe it got ticketed before it got called in." He ripped the ticket off the windscreen. "What's the point in having a fuckin' call put out for it?" He stuck the ticket in his notebook. "Someone's boss is getting paid a visit."

"We need to get people all over that bus station," said Cargill.

"The boy could be anywhere." Bain pointed at the ever-present camera. "That fuckin' CCTV better be working."

"Don't look at me," said Cullen. "I need to get back to Edinburgh to find Roberts."

"But you're so good at looking at CCTV footage, Sundance."

"This isn't our jurisdiction," said Cargill.

"This isn't mine, either," said Bain. "I'm Glasgow South, not this fuckin' backwater."

"You stay just up the road," said Cullen. "Bathgate."

"It's hardly up the road, Cullen," said Bain. "Besides, I sold that house and bought a wee flat in Glasgow." He rubbed his face. "Right, I want you to look into the CCTV footage, Constable."

"I told you I need to follow up a lead in Edinburgh," said Cullen.

"Like what?" said Bain.

"Beth Williamson used to go out with Roberts," said Cullen.

"Like fuck she did," said Bain.

Cullen nodded at McCrea. "Damian, tell him."

McCrea snorted. "He's right. Jenny Stone told us just before you burst into the interview room."

"Right," said Bain. "Okay, then,
Damian
, you're finding me that CCTV footage."

McCrea sent daggers at Cullen before he set off after Bain.

Cullen and Cargill walked slowly back to her car.

"Good work, Scott."

"Thanks," said Cullen. "I told you I knew how to play him. He can give it out but he can't take it. As you say, he's just a bully."

"Well, he's the last of a dying breed," said Cargill. "All the swearing, the bullying, the aggro, he's had his time. He's not getting out of this with his job."

Cullen had a certain amount of sympathy for the situation Bain was in, but he couldn't wait to see the back of him.

Two hours later, Cullen and Methven sat in the interview room with Beth Williamson. Her lawyer, Campbell McLintock, wore a lime green shirt and tie with a navy pinstripe suit.

He was well known to Cullen, notorious for using the most obscure technicalities to win cases from the margins of defeat. He usually defended high-earning clients - Cullen wondered just how much Williamson's husband was on.

"You don't need to be here, Campbell," said Methven. "Ms Williamson is not a suspect. She is merely being asked to assist with our investigations."

"I'll be the judge of that, Inspector. Since certain changes in the criminal justice system in this country, I think it is in both of our interests that I'm present, don't you?"

"Nothing to do with the fact you're charging Ms Williamson by the hour?" said Methven.

"I beg your pardon?"

"Interview started at six twenty-three pm on Thursday the fourth of April, two thousand and thirteen," said Methven, grinning at McLintock. "Present in the room are Beth Williamson, her solicitor Campbell McLintock, Detective Constable Scott Cullen and myself, Detective Inspector Colin Methven." He licked his lips. "Ms Williamson, can you please detail your relationship with a Mr Michael Roberts of Glasgow?"

"We knew each other from music," said Beth. "We used to both play gigs in Bannerman's and we had practice rooms in Niddry Street." She took a sip of water. "We did a few gigs together in Glasgow."

"And that's it, is it?" said Cullen. "That's the extent of your relationship?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Can you confirm you and Mr Roberts were just friends?" said Cullen.

Beth frowned. "That's what I just told you."

"We've heard differently," said Cullen.

McLintock looked nervous as he jumped in. "My client has told you the relationship between herself and Michael Roberts was purely that of friends. Please kindly drop the matter."

Cullen kept his eyes on her. "That's your final answer, is it, Beth?"

She nodded but evaded his gaze.

Cullen opened his notebook. "A good friend of yours told us otherwise."

"Who?"

"Jenny Stone."

Beth's forehead creased. "Jenny?"

Cullen nodded. "As you well know, she's the bass player in Expect Delays. Similar to Mr Roberts, I believe you knew her from the Edinburgh music scene. Would I be wrong?"

"I know her." Beth gritted her teeth. "I just can't believe she'd let me down like that."

"Is telling the truth letting someone down?" said Cullen.

McLintock's face reddened. "What my client is trying to say is Ms Stone and she fell out."

"It's not." Beth slid her wedding ring up and down her finger, staring into space. "Mike and I went out with each other for sixteen months." A tear slid down her cheek. "We broke up when he made it."

"Charming," said Cullen.

Beth rubbed her eyes. "It was for the best, I suppose. I'm not the most trusting and him being away on tour or in a studio for months on end wouldn't be good for me." She patted her belly. "Besides, I most likely wouldn't have this one on the way."

"It might have been useful for your career, though," said Cullen.

"I'm sorry?"

"Well, we understand Mr Roberts was responsible for your band's offer of a record contract falling through," said Cullen.

Beth's face went white. "How did you hear that?"

"We have a number of statements to that effect now," said Cullen. "Is it true?"

"I don't know," said Beth. "Jimi thought it was true but I don't know. Why would Mike do that?"

"There's a phrase you may have heard," said Methven. "'Where there's a hit there's a writ'. We believe Mr Strang was under the impression that Mr Roberts had stolen the hit single
Where Has He Gone?
from a work by your band, The Invisibles, namely
Goneaway
."

"Shite," said Beth.

"Is it true?" said Methven.

"Inspector, my client wishes to make no further statement on the matter."

Methven grinned. "This is not going to look good for your client. As it stands, Ms Williamson lied to us on the record. I'm sure we have enough here to prosecute her."

McLintock looked away. "Very well."

"So," said Methven, "was there anything in Mr Strang's theory?"

"Jimi certainly thought it was the same song," said Beth. "I mean, you've got to admit there's a big similarity between them."

"Mr Strang wasn't in a particularly healthy frame of mind at the time, though, was he?" said Methven.

"That's one way of putting it," said Beth.

"Mr Roberts was arrested earlier today but escaped custody," said Methven. "Have you had any contact with him?"

Beth scowled at him. "No. He's one of the last people I'd want to see, believe me."

"That's a definite?" said Cullen.

"We just had sex with each other for sixteen months," said Beth. "It wasn't like he was the love of my life or anything. And
he
ended it, not me. I wasn't pleased. If I saw him, I'd tell him where to go."

"I think my client has helped you enough with your inquiries, Inspector," said McLintock. "She has not had any contact with the accused for a number of months. I wouldn't want to draw your attention to the fact she is with child and your line of questioning may be deemed excessive by members of the fourth estate?"

Methven glowered at McLintock. "Interview terminated at six thirty-seven pm."

Cullen and Methven found Cargill in the Incident Room, fingers battering a laptop's keyboard. She looked up then shut the screen and sat back, arms folded. "Well?"

"Williamson pretty much confirmed our theory," said Methven.

Cargill pushed the laptop away. "Pretty much isn't good enough, Colin. I'd expect pretty much from our colleagues in Glasgow South. Not us."

"Very well." Methven closed his eyes again. "I think she knows something. Do we have the manpower to put a tail on her?"

"Graham has half of Scotland at his disposal," said Cargill, "so yes."

"Can we make it some of our better officers?" said Methven. "I think we're onto something here."

"Who?" said Cargill.

"I'd like DC Murray and DC Jain," said Methven.

"They're both coming on shift just now, I think," said Cargill, "so I'm happy to approve that."

"Good," said Methven. "Tell them they'll have to submit an overtime form."

"I'm sure they'll appreciate it," said Cargill. "I'll make sure it goes through."

"What about me?" said Cullen. "I think I'm just about dried up and I don't want to go chasing CCTV footage in Motherwell."

Cargill grimaced. "While you won't have to go to Motherwell, you will have to look at CCTV."

Cullen felt his shoulders slump. "Really?"

"Roberts got the bus to Edinburgh," said Cargill.

"A bus?" said Cullen.

Cargill nodded. "It would appear he hopped on a coach in Motherwell at half past eleven this morning. The destination was Edinburgh, but we don't know whether he made it all the way. There were no stops between Motherwell and the west of Edinburgh. The CCTV camera on the coach was faulty."

"I thought I was past this sort of thing," said Cullen.

"You're a Detective Constable," said Cargill. "Don't get above yourself just because you've been an ADS."

"No ma'am." Cullen was pissed off. "Sorry."

"Look, don't be like that," said Cargill. "You've done some excellent work on this case so far. Not all of it has been by the book, admittedly, but it's not gone unnoticed."

"Thanks." Cullen was unable to decide if he was merely being buttered up.

Two hours later, Cullen walked up the Royal Mile on his way to the flat, chatting to Methven on the phone. It was warmer than it had been over the previous couple of weeks, but it was still cold.

He was missing his car already. Instead of it sitting in an Accident Repair Centre in Bellshill waiting to be written off, he could have driven home in warmth.

"When are you due back here?" said Methven.

"It's just gone ten," said Cullen. "I'm heading home."

"What happened to your hunger to catch this guy?"

"Actual hunger happened," said Cullen. "Besides, I'll be in a better frame of mind once I've had some sleep."

"I'm close to ordering you to come in."

"Sorry, sir, the reception is breaking up," said Cullen.

"Don't you dare."

"In all seriousness," said Cullen, "I've been on ten days straight now and I really need to get to bed. I'll be in at six tomorrow." He started up the stairwell. "I've been through all the CCTV footage at the various stops. Naismith wouldn't let me take it away unless it was confirmed evidence."