Ghost in the Machine (25 page)

The car pulled in at the pavement. Gail opened the passenger door and leant in.

"Jeremy?"
 

He turned to her and smiled. "Hi Gail. In you get."

He wasn't quite what she imagined - she felt slightly cheated when she thought back to the Schoolbook photo. He was bigger than she'd expected, more muscular, and he seemed quite hard. He had an English accent she couldn't place. They all sounded the same to her.

"So what do you want to do?" she said.

"I've got a nice place I'd like to take you," he said. "Assuming that's all right with you?"

She smiled. "Sounds good."

She couldn't believe how nervous she was. Simon was sitting at home, probably drinking himself stupid in front of the football again. This was her night. She needed excitement and meeting a stranger outside her work on a Sunday night fitted that.

Jeremy put the car in gear and pulled away, leaving Alba Bank Mortgage Centre behind for the night. He drove the car round the corner, towards the tram works. "This road rejoins round the back, doesn't it?"

Gail recalled going for a jog up that way with Sian one lunchtime. "I think so."

They pulled round the corner and went over a roundabout. Gail struggled for something to say.

Her phone rang. She apologised and picked it up out of her bag.

"Hello?" She heard a strange echo on the line.

The line was silent.

"Hello?" she said again, getting angry.

She hung up. "Sorry about that."

She realised the car had stopped. She turned around to face him. Jeremy's fist smashed into the side of her head, knocking her against the door. A rope bit into her neck.

Bain was on speakerphone as McNeill drove them back to the station.
 

"You're kidding me," said Bain.

"Wish I was," said Cullen.

"So, Gail met this guy on Schoolbook," said Bain.

"It sounded more like
he
met her, from what I can gather," said McNeill. "He started messaging her, swept her off her feet and so on."

"Shite, shite, shite," said Bain. "So does this look anything like the same pattern as the other two?"

That morning, Cullen had noticed the wall at the side of the whiteboard now had several sheets of A3 paper taped together, showing the flow of messages on a clear pattern terminating with the deaths of Caroline and Debi. He didn't know who'd drawn the diagram, but Bain had continually talked about patterns at the morning briefing.

"It certainly looks that way," said Cullen.

"I take it her getting the train was a load of shite?" said Bain.

"Aye," said Cullen.

"What happened on Sunday night, then?" said Bain.

"As far as we know," said Cullen, "they had a project implementing on Sunday, so they had to work all day."

"I know the feeling," said Bain.

"According to Sian," said Cullen, "Gail was supposed to meet someone called Jeremy Turner afterwards. He'd told her he was in Edinburgh on business."

"So this Sian's been lying to us?" said Bain.

"That's right," said McNeill. "We've got some Musselburgh plod getting a statement from her. I'll let you decide if you want to charge her."

"I think I fuckin' will," said Bain. "Wasting our time like that." He paused for a few seconds. "Sundance, I thought you told me yesterday this was a different killer."

"I said it didn't look like the same one," said Cullen.

"You should've been sharper," said Bain.

"Look," said Cullen, trying to keep his voice level, "I was the one who worked this all out. I was the one who spotted her lie and got her to admit it."

"Well done there, Sundance," said Bain, "thank the Lord we've got your powers of deduction to help us through this case. Does it look like it could be different killers?"

McNeill answered. "We need to look into it further. I'd say it's highly likely it's the same killer, but we need to establish the links and hear back from forensics."

Bain sighed. "I really need this to be another killer." There was a pause, then the sound of a desk being hit. "Oh, you fuckin' beauty."

"What?" said Cullen.

"I let Rob Thomson go at the back of six on Sunday," said Bain. "Bastard could easily have got over to Edinburgh Park, couldn't he?"

"I suppose so," said Cullen.
 

Bain ignored him. "Magic."

"All three arranged to meet a man on Schoolbook," said Cullen, "that's all we know. Same account for the first two. I'll see if I can get Kidd to link this latest account to the original one."

"Get on it," said Bain.

"Have they found anything on those office PCs?" said Cullen.

"I've not heard anything," said Bain. "Actually, we need to get them to have a look at this Gail's computer as well. I take it that wasn't stolen?"

"No idea," said Cullen. "I'd go down to speak to Anderson if I were you."

"I'll get Miller onto it," said Bain. "The abduction methods are similar. They all arranged to meet in private or secluded places. He attacked Caroline Adamson at a hotel. Debi Curtis was attacked at her flat. Gail McBride's body was found in a field. Where was she meeting this punter again?"
 

"Outside her work, according to Sian Saunders," said Cullen. "The Alba Bank Mortgage Centre at Edinburgh Park."

"So he meets her there," said Bain, "kills her and dumps her body just off that cycle path. Pretty handy."

"This fake name thing," said Cullen. "At the moment, we don't actually know whether Jeremy Turner exists."

"You'd better check into that, Sundance," said Bain.
 

Cullen sighed. "Will do."

"Has Gail's PM been done yet?" said McNeill.

Bain paused. "Aye. Strangled, throat slit."

"So the same MO then?" said McNeill.

"Similar," said Bain. "Need to prove it is. I've got twenty officers looking into that proof as we speak."

"Gail and Caroline were both dead when we found them," said Cullen. "Caroline had been subjected to a lot of torture. Gail's looked more like a gangland hit. The only reason Debi wasn't dead was because we got there before he could finish her off."

"Not your finest hour there," said Bain.

McNeill scowled. "What's your problem? Because of Scott, we almost managed to catch this killer."

They heard another thump down the line from Bain. "Listen, Butch, I need to be able to link Rob Thomson to this Gail lassie."

"These murders might not have been down to him." McNeill made a face at the phone that almost made Cullen burst out laughing.

"Butch, I know for a fact Caroline was done by him," said Bain. "Therefore Debi was."

"But we don't know that," said McNeill.

"I've almost got enough to send him away," said Bain. "I just need you lot to tie off the loose ends."

Cullen frowned. "Why are you so focused on him?"

"It's obvious," said Bain. "He's a big nasty bastard. Had a grudge against his ex-wife and a grudge against her mate."

"What about Alistair Cruikshank?" said Cullen. "He also had a definite grudge against both Caroline and Debi."

"What about Gail, though?" said Bain. "How does that fit in there?"

"What's the link between Rob and Gail then?" said Cullen.

"Where did she work?" said Bain.

"Alba Bank," said Cullen.

Bain laughed. "Where Rob Thomson works."

Cullen could practically hear the size of the grin down the phone. He shared a look with McNeill. Neither spoke - Cullen knew where this was heading.

"Right, so I need to find a more solid link between Gail and that bastard," said Bain, "but once we get that we've nailed him."

"I still think we should be looking for this Cruikshank guy," said Cullen.

"Chantal Jain is," said Bain. "You aren't, all right? We'll see what fun he brings to the party when we find him."

"So what's the plan of attack?" said McNeill.

"I'm going to get Irvine looking at linking Thomson to this woman," said Bain. "Get him going round her work and stuff like that. He's a proper copper I can trust. I'll also get him looking at the CCTV at Edinburgh Park, see if this boy drove there. As for you pair..." He exhaled down the line. "I need you to concentrate on Schoolbook and this Jeremy Turner boy."

"How many bodies can we have?" said Cullen.

"I can only spare you pair," said Bain, "plus maybe Caldwell."

"We'll need more than that if you want it done this week," said McNeill. "We're struggling with Debi and Caroline as it is."

"Right." Bain sounded irritated. "I can give you Keith Miller full-time once Wilko's finished with him."

"Oh, fantastic," said McNeill.

They heard Bain's mobile ring. "Ah, shite, I need to take this. Butch, I want an update at two, okay?"

"Okay," said McNeill.

The line clicked dead.

Cullen sat for a moment, letting McNeill gather her thoughts as she drove past Duddingston Golf Club. She shook her head.
 

"Was Bain for real there?" said Cullen.
 

"Well, it's his neck on the line here," said McNeill, "not ours."

"Fair enough," said Cullen, "but someone else could get killed while he's pissing about, lost in his stupid vendetta. What's he actually planning on doing?"

"Who knows?"

An hour later, Cullen was back at his desk looking through Gail's Schoolbook Friends list feeling like he was going round in circles.

"This just isn't efficient," he said to Caldwell.

"It's tedious," she said. "I'm getting nowhere fast. There's hundreds of them."

Cullen got up, deciding to see Kidd. He'd tried contacting him earlier but he'd got no reply. "That's it, I'm off upstairs."

He pounded up and saw Kidd with a telephone headset on, avoiding his gaze.

"Are you on a call?" said Cullen.

Kidd pressed the secrecy button. "Aye, I'm on with Schoolbook."

"What about?"

"Trying to get a better pipe to their database," said Kidd. "Getting more progress cos that Duncan boy is off today."

"How did that private company go?" said Cullen.

"They're the ones setting the pipe up for us."

Cullen handed him a sheet of paper with Gail McBride and Jeremy Turner's details on it. "I need you to get me all messages between these two users."

"Are we cleared for it?" said Kidd.

"It's the same case, so aye."

"I'll get it back to you by two," said Kidd. "I'm tied up till then and that's come straight from Bain."

"Fine." Cullen was tempted to try and play with Bain but decided against it. He thanked Kidd then bounded back downstairs.

McNeill was chatting to Caldwell. She nodded when Cullen appeared. "How's it going?"
 

"Not great," said Cullen. "We're just spinning our wheels here."

"What have you looked at?" said McNeill.

"Been calling through the friends list," said Cullen. "It's much bigger than Caroline's but so far we're getting nothing. I've got Kidd extracting all the messages between Gail and this Jeremy Turner."

"The good news, I suppose, is I've managed to get some more resource to ring through the list," said McNeill.

"Aye, and what's the bad?" said Cullen.

"McAllister is one of them."

Cullen shook his head. "We don't need him."

"Well, if it can free you up for a couple of hours to do something else," said McNeill, "then I'd look on it favourably."

Cullen was already worrying about how much time would be lost to managing McAllister. "What sort of thing?"

"There might be some other avenue of investigation that's being screwed up under Wilkinson which might help what you're doing here," said McNeill.

"You're not clutching at straws, are you?" said Cullen.

McNeill laughed. "I haven't drawn the short one yet."

Cullen had a thought. "Give me a minute." He got up.

Wilkinson was standing by the Incident Room whiteboard, scrawling some information about Gail McBride, copying the techniques Bain had been using on Saturday morning.

"Sir," said Cullen.

Wilkinson's face contorted into a sneer. "Curran, what can I do you for?"

"Gail McBride's phone logs," said Cullen. "Did anyone look over them?"

Wilkinson frowned. "Irvine did it."

Cullen grimaced. McNeill was right - there was no doubt he'd have messed it up. "Any idea where he is?"

"Back at our old desks," said Wilkinson. "Trying to get some peace and quiet."

"Thanks." Cullen moved off.
 

Wilkinson grabbed his shoulder. "Nice of you to drop me in it, by the way."

"How do you mean?" said Cullen.

Wilkinson folded his arms. "Somebody told Turnbull I was off on the lash last night."

"Well, it wasn't me."

Wilkinson eyed him suspiciously. "I don't believe you, but I'll let it pass for now."

Cullen left the Incident Room and followed the maze of corridors back to their old office space. Irvine was sitting at Cullen's old desk, his feet up on the table, reading a sheaf of documentation.

"Alan," said Cullen.

Irvine looked up. "What do
you
want?"

Alan Irvine was a fat, prematurely balding DS, much in the image of Wilkinson. Cullen had heard he was once a high-flyer in the force, shooting up rapidly from PC to DS in a matter of years, before his career stalled. He was notorious for being one of the laziest officers in Lothian & Borders, though he was good at managing up the way.

"Have you been looking through Gail McBride's phone records?" said Cullen.

Irvine held up the sheet of paper. "Just going through it now." He got to his feet and stretched. "Actually, you know what, can you do it for me? Wilkinson wants me down in the CCTV suite." He handed the papers to Cullen, spat a wad of chewing gum into the bin and headed off.

*
*
*

Twenty minutes later, Cullen had cross-referenced Gail's phone records against the numbers in his notebook. Gail appeared to be much more of a communicator online than by telephone. Once he'd removed her home number, Sian Saunders and Simon McBride's mobile, he had the list down to five numbers.