Cowboys and Indians (23 page)

BOOK: Cowboys and Indians
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‘You pair better not be talent spotting.’

‘Hardly, Sarge.’ Murray laughed. ‘Got a hold of our contact in the City of London Financial Crime Unit. Wanted to speak to a sergeant or above.’

‘Wouldn’t Methven have done?’

‘Not seen him.’

Cullen sat at the end of the meeting table. ‘Dial it, then.’

Murray held up his mobile and dialled a number into the conference phone on the desk. The dialling tone burst out of the speaker. Then room noise.

‘DI Coulson.’

‘Steve, it’s DC Stuart Murray in Edinburgh.’

‘Afternoon, Constable. How’s it up there in chilly Jockland?’

‘Thanks for agreeing to speak to us, sir. I’m with DS Scott Cullen and ADC Simon Buxton.’

‘What do you want to know?’

‘We were talking about UC Partners earlier.’

‘Ah, them. Listen, the ownership’s in the Caymans.’

‘Is that a problem?’

‘It’s a dead end. You’re snookered, unless I can get access through my back channels.’

‘What about Jonathan van de Merwe’s accounts?’

‘Got a few in the Caymans bearing his name.’

‘How come you can get that but not for UC?’

‘Don’t ask to see how we make the sausage, Constable. I’ve got access to some of the transactions. Your guy’s received a lot of cash from a company called Indus Consulting.’

Murray nodded at Cullen. ‘That’s the IMC subsidiary.’

Cullen stared at the phone. ‘How much are we talking?’

‘Looks like an initial hundred grand, then ten a month since December.’

‘What’s the balance on the account?’

Coulson whistled down the line.
‘A cool ten million plus change that’s bigger than my pension.’

‘Can you send through a copy?’

‘Will do. That all you need from me?’

‘For now. Thanks for your help, sir.’

‘Don’t mention it.’
The line bleeped dead.

Cullen sprang to his feet. ‘Time to update Crystal, I suppose.’

Murray winked. ‘Or take credit for our work.’

‘I’m not taking any credit for you doing bugger all, Stuart.’

‘I love you too, Sarge.’

*
 
*
 
*

Methven checked his watch. Third time in half an hour. ‘You’ve been very informative, Sergeant.’

Cullen leaned back in the chair. ‘I’ll keep you posted as we go, sir.’

Methven shook his head. ‘Look, what I still don’t see is why someone’s murdered him.’

‘I’m thinking it could relate to what he was up to with UC Partners. Some rough maths and you can work out how much he’s made. Where there’s money, there’s usually a motive.’

‘If it’s true.’

‘I’m assuming it is. He bullied procurement, rushed through staff hiring and kept his team from speaking to UC.’

‘We need evidence.’

‘We’ll get it, sir.’

‘The City cops are notoriously slow.’

‘Notoriously rigorous, too. It’ll stand up in court.’

‘Who are you putting in the dock, Sergeant?’

‘That’s another question entirely.’

‘Why’s he on the bridge in the first place?’

Cullen shrugged. ‘Someone pays a prostitute to visit his bondage room and service him. Then she lures him out into the street.’

‘If it’s a hit, surely they’d do it in his house. That safe room—’ Methven smirked. ‘DS Bain called it a danger room. Like in the
X-Men
comics.’

‘Very good.’

‘But you follow my logic? If you were killing him, you’d strangle him and leave him in the house.’

‘I’d shove Bain off the Forth Road Bridge.’

‘I meant sodding Van de Merwe.’

‘I know, sir.’ Cullen cleared his throat, covering a smile. ‘But I agree. If it was a hit, we’d’ve found him in his suit with some shopping scattered around. Not at three a.m. in his underpants.’

‘Which only adds to the mystery.’ Methven checked his watch again.

‘Am I keeping you from something?’

‘Sorry? No, no. I’ve got an appointment at two and I need to get some lunch beforehand.’

‘Do you think we’re wasting our time looking into his background, sir?’

‘Your guess is as good as mine. We could be dealing with an assassin who’s leading us to think it’s not a hit. We desperately need to find this person in the cloak. How are we with Candy?’

‘I need to pick up with ADC Buxton.’

‘Sergeant, that’s been two days now.’

‘I know, sir, but we’re—’

Methven’s Airwave thundered against the wooden desk.
‘DS Bain to DI Methven.’

‘Receiving.’

‘Need you down in the Scenes of Crime office, Col.’

‘Is it going to take long?’

‘I’d say so.’

Methven sighed. ‘I’ll be down presently.’

Cullen got up and stepped towards the door. ‘We done?’

‘I need you to cover my two o’clock, Sergeant.’

‘What is it?’

‘Presenting Buxton’s case at the panel.’

Cullen let his shoulders drop. ‘Right.’

Thirty-Three

Cullen slumped back in the seat, gazed up at the canteen’s ceiling and gripped his phone tighter. ‘Crystal’s put me in the shit again, Sharon.’

‘He shouldn’t be doing this to you. You need to sort it out.’

‘You think I should go to the Police Federation?’

‘I meant speak to him.’

‘Oh. Right.’ Cullen shifted his mobile to the other hand and glanced at the half-filled page of A4. ‘I’ve done nothing because I thought he was presenting Si’s case.’

‘You think he’s ready for it, though, right?’

‘Been ready for eighteen months.’

‘Then you’ll be
fine
.’
Pause.
‘How are you feeling?’

‘I’m tired. Have you thought any more about what we talked about last night?’

‘Scott.… This is hard for me. I’ve got to go.’

‘When will you be back tonight?’

‘Chantal wants to go for a drink.’

‘Right. Love you.’ Cullen ended the call.

‘Sarge.’

Cullen looked up. Buxton was looking down at him.

‘Tried calling you.’

‘I was on the phone to Sharon.’ Cullen leaned back in the chair. ‘Tell me you’ve found Candy.’

‘Think she’s disappeared.’

‘People don’t just disappear. Have you spoken to her parents?’

‘Both dead.’

‘Si, Methven’s biting my bollocks about it. Find her.’

‘Keep your wig on, mate. I’ll bring her in.’ Buxton got up. ‘I liked you better when you were drinking.’

Cullen watched him wander across the canteen. Was he really detective calibre? Or was he just his mate?

A hand appeared from the side, snatching up the page.

Cullen grabbed for the hand. Missed.

‘Oh, ho! Look at this.’ Bain held it at arm’s reach to read it. ‘Aw, bless! “Simon is my boyfriend and I wuv him vewy, vewy much.” You soft shite, Sundance.’

‘Give me that back. Now.’

‘Make me.’

‘How old are you? Six?’

‘Come on, Sundance. Just a little bit of fun.’

‘Look, I’ve got to take that to a panel in five minutes.’ Cullen snatched it back, folded it and put it in his pocket.

‘So Crystal’s dumped that on you now?’

Cullen looked away.

Bain thumped into the seat opposite. ‘You regret getting the stripe?’

‘All these little shitty things he gives me. I’m supposed to be running this investigation, but I’ve spent more time interviewing candidates or prepping for the interviews than on the case.’

‘Nightmare.’ Bain dumped a handful of coins onto the table and started sifting through. ‘I tried to put you through the same thing.’

‘What, delegating?’

‘No, a promotion, you daft bastard. You were such a moaning git. Promotion this, promotion that.’

Christ. Cullen swallowed.

‘This was after I lost Butch to Wilko.’

‘Don’t call her that.’

‘Cargill knocked it back. Said you were too much of a cowboy.’

‘What did you say?’

‘Saw the writing on the wall and let it pass.’

‘I didn’t realise.’

‘It’s not just saving your fuckin’ life you’ve got to thank me for, is it?’

*
 
*
 
*

Cullen opened the meeting room door.

DCI Cargill and Donna Nichols were lost in conversation. Sitting close, legs almost touching. Were they really a couple?

Cargill glanced round and flashed a yellow toothy smile at Cullen. ‘Ah, Sergeant. Thanks for joining us. DI Methven said you were his deputy on this.’

Cullen sat on the other side of Donna. ‘Where’s everyone else?’

‘They’ll come as and when they’re needed. You’re to provide assurance through the process.’

‘Have a look through this.’ Donna tossed a pack at him. Their interviews all typed up and bound. ‘The format’s twenty minutes for each candidate.’

‘But we’ve already interviewed them.’

‘And we need to hear from their sponsors.’

Cargill winked at him. ‘This is what Colin and I had to do for your current position. Be thankful you avoided the interview and presentation.’

Cullen flicked through the pack. ‘So, who’s up first?’

*
 
*
 
*

‘Let me think on that.’ DI Bill Lamb stared at the window, stroking his moustache. He cleared his throat. ‘Okay. PC Helen Armitage has worked for one of my sergeants for the last six months. In that time—’

Cargill frowned. ‘But she’s since returned to uniform duty?’

‘That’s correct. You know how the budgets are this year, ma’am.’

‘Do you think she’d be a good fit for DS Cullen’s team?’

Lamb raised his eyebrows at Cullen. ‘Possibly not. He’s already got a few inexperienced officers. DC Murray’s the only one with any experience and most of that’s out in East Lothian.’

‘I’ve got DC Jain.’ Cullen glared at him. ‘And Eva Law’s got two years as a full DC in A Division.’

‘All the same, I think Helen’d be better with one of my sergeants.’

‘I’ve got an idea.’ Cargill beamed. ‘We could move Geraldine Fox into DS Cullen’s team. She adds a wealth of experience.’

Cullen dug his pen into his interview pack, cutting through the pages. ‘That’s an option.’

‘DI Lamb, can you continue?’

‘Anyway, Helen frequently deputised for DS McMann at my daily briefings. As you know, he’s had issues with his water works all year. She’s really stepped up to the plate.’

*
 
*
 
*

Cullen locked eyes with Cargill. ‘So, in conclusion, then, PC Simon Buxton should get the role. Full stop. In the two years he’s worked both alongside and for me he’s not once complained about the nature of the job or the type of activities he’s undertaken. That’s two years of handling murder cases and complex investigations. He’s a good analyst and an experienced police officer. It has to be him.’

*
 
*
 
*

Sergeant Gary Mullen rubbed a hand against his chin. ‘So, aye, I’m PC Brian Ogilvie’s line manager.’

Cullen flicked through his original pack, finding the name just to the left of where his pen had tunnelled through. He was decent enough, but hardly a go-getter.

‘He’s worked for me here for about ten years, give or take. Good lad, always eager to put in a shift or do the odd bit of overtime. Gets on—’

‘Just a sec, Sergeant.’ Cargill frowned at her pack. ‘Specialised Crime Division requires a lot more than “the odd bit of overtime”. Our staff regularly work four or five additional hours.’

‘That lad’s coming up from Berwick every morning, ma’am. Can’t expect him to stay too late.’

‘Very well.’ Cargill scored through a chunk of text. ‘Please continue.’

*
 
*
 
*

‘Aye, cheers.’ Mullen slammed the door behind him.

Cargill let out a sigh and shoved her pack over to Donna. ‘Well, that’s a definite no on Ogilvie.’

‘Agreed.’ Donna collected Cullen’s papers, frowning at the hole. ‘Do you agree, Sergeant?’

‘I already said he shouldn’t have got this far.’

Cargill stood up and stretched out, the two sides of her parting at the bottom. ‘So it’s down to two.’

‘Not really.’ Donna flicked through her papers. ‘Buxton’s interview score was poor. It’s only Hel—’

‘What do you mean
poor
?’ Cullen crossed his arms. ‘I said he should’ve got it on that basis alone.’

‘I marked him down on three separate points.’

‘What were they?’

‘Well, first—’

‘Sergeant.’ Cargill smiled at Cullen, head tilted to the side. ‘I think you need to accept the decision. Helen Armitage is clearly the strongest candidate.’

‘Come on…’ Cullen jumped to his feet and paced the room. ‘Lamb just wants to chuck his dead wood into my team.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘You know the issues he’s had with the Cou— With DC Fox. He’s already planted the seed to swap her with PC Armitage. This role is for my team. I should get to call the shots.’

‘Sergeant, this has to be an open and transparent process. You can’t just appoint your mate to the team. What’d happen if I had to second you to another investigation?’

‘You’re saying I should be stuck with someone who’s not delivering?’

‘That’s an entirely separate manner, Scott.’

‘Is it? You didn’t sit in on the interview and listen to PC Armitage’s piss-poor answers.’

‘You could’ve challenged them.’

‘I tried but I was scribing. Wasn’t my job.’

‘Nonsense.’ Donna huffed. ‘All you’d written was “No leadership skills shown”. I had to write up the notes from memory.’

Cargill scowled at him. ‘Is this true?’

‘Look, ma’am, I’ve been at DI Lamb’s briefings a couple of times, as you know. Armitage isn’t up to it.’

‘Let’s go back to you thinking we should appoint your friend.’

‘If he’s a friend it’s because we’ve worked together and he’s earned my trust and respect.’

‘You sure?’

‘He’s a very good officer. Professional, solid, reliable. Two years as an ADC. He’s experienced and driven. Everything we need.’

‘Let’s have a vote.’ Cargill pouted. ‘Donna?’

‘PC Armitage.’

‘Scott?’

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