Cowboys and Indians (39 page)

His uniform followed him, heavy boots clattering on the wood.

Cullen took the first door on the left, waved for the uniform to take the other room and entered the bedroom. The panel was still wedged open. He took it slow as he crossed the room, torch out. He click it on, lighting up the sex room. He crawled through, swinging the light around. Nothing.

Wait, what was that?

He swung it back. There. A figure lay on the floor. He crept over, light trained on the body.

It was Rich. Naked, huddled in a ball.

Cullen stuck a finger to his neck. Still had a pulse. He shone the light in his eyes.

Rich’s pupils dilated, though he didn’t flinch. His eyes rolled and he let out a groan.

‘In here!’ Cullen got out his Airwave. ‘Control, I need urgent medical back-up to thirty-two Belford Road.’

‘Affirmative. It’ll be five minutes.’

Cullen swung the light around again. What the fuck was that smell? Shit. He took another look. Stopped the beam over a long object. White, plastic. A strap-on dildo, at least twelve inches. White cotton straps. A condom stretched partway down the shaft, blood and excrement covering it.

He looked over at the uniform as they entered the bedroom. ‘Can you bag this up?’

‘Aye, Sarge.’

Cullen knelt down and waved a hand in front of Rich’s face. ‘It’s Scott. You’re safe.’

‘Fuck off, you cunt.’

‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fucking burst open.’

Cullen jolted upright and nodded at the uniform. ‘Stay here.’ He climbed the stepladder and swung his torch around the attic room. Nothing. He slid down, his jaw tightening as he passed Rich.

‘Fucking hell, Sarge, he’s bleeding out of his arse.’

‘Stay with him.’ Cullen shone his torch at the uniform. ‘Did you check the other room?’

‘Aye, Sarge. She’s not here.’

‘Wait with him till the ambulance gets here.’ Cullen crept through the passageway into the bedroom and thudded down the stairs. ‘Anything down here?’

Buxton came out of the living room. ‘Nothing here, Sarge.’

Cullen looked around. Where the hell was she? He held the handset up to his mouth. ‘Control, have we got an update on her location yet?’

‘Negative.’

Cullen stomped across the parquet, putting his Airwave away, and went back into the cold air outside. His Airwave chimed again. Bain.

He answered it facing away from the house. ‘Cullen.’

‘Sundance, you near a computer?’

‘Why?’

‘You’ll want to see this.’

‘Right.’ Cullen logged in to his police email on his phone. ‘What am I looking for?’

‘Link’s in your inbox.’

‘Aye, what is it?’

‘Given how much of a fanjo you were earlier, you should be thankful I’m giving you this.’
A pause.
‘It’s a Body Worn Video feed. I’m out in Hamilton looking for this bird you porked.’

Cullen found the email and clicked the link. ‘Here we go.’

Grainy video filled the screen. The resolution sharpened, showing the inside of a dark flat.

‘I can’t see much.’

The camera swivelled round. Bain snorted at it.
‘You should fuckin’ smell this, Sundance. Like a granny’s—’

‘Where are you?’

‘Here, point at the bed.’

The camera switched over to the far side of the room. A fat man lay on the bed, naked and bloated, covered in flies, skin pale except for purple blotches.

‘Who’s that?’

‘We think it’s Eric Gilmour. Her uncle.’

‘Why kill him?’

‘Fuck knows. Boy’s been dead a few weeks.’

Down the street, Methven’s Range Rover pulled in.

‘Cheers. I have to go.’ Cullen marched over to the end of the path as he pocketed his Airwave. ‘Sir, she’s not there.’

‘Then where the sodding hell is she?’

‘She’s raped Rich. He’s out of his skull.’

‘Sodding, sodding hell.’

Cullen stared back at the house, spotting the ambulance crawling up the brae. ‘Can’t believe she brought him here.’ He gazed up at the sky, dark grey clouds billowing, rain definitely on the way. ‘She’s behind all this, sir. She raped those men, spiked my drink. Raped Rich. Killed Ferguson. Killed Van de Merwe.’

‘I don’t get the why, Sergeant.’

‘Me neither.’ Cullen shook his head and gritted his teeth. ‘She’s lost control.’

Methven waved at Van de Merwe’s town house. ‘Why did she do that to him?’

‘Shite, I think I know.’ Cullen frowned and reached for his phone, dialling Tom.

‘Yo. Hearing a lot from you today, Skinkster.’

‘We’ve found Rich. He’s been raped.’

‘Fuck me. Is he okay?’

‘Not really. Listen, do you know who his source was?’

‘No you don’t. He swore me to secrecy.’

‘This is serious, Tom. I think it’s why he’s been attacked.’

‘Skinky, if you’re recording this—’

‘Who was the source?’

A pause.
‘Lorna.’

‘That figures.’ Cullen spun round to Methven and mouthed her name. ‘How did they meet?’

‘Night out a few weeks ago. Went dancing. After that, they started chatting.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘He swore me to secrecy, mate. Come on—’

Cullen ended the call and pocketed the phone. ‘Lorna was Rich’s source.’

Methven held his Airwave away from his head. ‘I’ll phone you back.’ He stabbed a finger on the screen. ‘So why do this to him?’

‘She overheard Rich and me arguing about his source last night in the club. He was about to give me her name. Just before she spiked our drinks. Fuck, I grabbed his beer.’

‘So she did this to him?’

Cullen swallowed hard. ‘She must’ve killed Ferguson because he was giving us too much information about what was going on at the bank. This BDSM ring. Everything.’

‘Why give all that information to Rich, though?’

Cullen shrugged. ‘To avoid any suspicion falling on her?’

‘Why not frame someone for Van de Merwe’s death?’

‘She was trying to frame Candy. She didn’t know about the cloak. It was Lorna’s. Fuck.’

Methven frowned. ‘Did she say anything useful in the text she used to lure Ferguson to the hotel?’

‘Not sure.’ Cullen fumbled for his Airwave and hit dial. ‘Tommy, it’s Cullen. Have you done any work on the burner used to call Martin Ferguson?’

‘I can only trace it when it’s on and calling. It’s off.’

‘When was it last on?’

‘Last night.’

‘Can you check it again?’

A pause.
‘Give me a minute.’

‘Sergeant, we need to have a word about DS Bain’s complaint.’

‘Ignore it. It’s bullshit, sir.’

‘I can’t just ignore it.’

‘You know what he’s like. He can give it out, but he can’t take it.’

A tinny voice came from his Airwave.
‘Cullen?’

Cullen put it to his head. ‘Sorry, Tommy. Got anything?’

‘The phone’s on.’

‘Now?’

‘Aye, just hit a cell tower on Chester Street in the West End.’

‘So where is she?’

‘That’s all I can give you until tomorrow.’

‘Cheers.’ Cullen ended the call. He typed in the mobile number and hit dial.

‘What are you doing, Sergeant?’

‘Trying something.’

A crackle of static burst out of the speaker.
‘Aye?’

‘Lorna?’

‘You know it’s me then, Scott Cullen. Top points. Meet me on Dean Bridge. Now.’

Cullen darted over the mouth of Bell’s Brae. Shit.

Lorna stood in the middle of the bridge, leaning over the side and staring at the water.

His Airwave chimed.
‘Control to Cullen.’

‘Receiving.’

‘Alpha six is in position. Over.’

Up ahead, flashing lights cut across the oncoming traffic, blocking both lanes. Two figures got out, keeping their distance.

Cullen continued on towards her, his heart thudding in his chest. He took a backwards glance at the squad car behind him. ‘Lorna! It’s me!’

She swung round to face him. ‘Stay there!’

‘What do you want from me?’

She put her knee on the ledge and hoisted herself up, her leather coat flapping in the wind. ‘Stay back!’

Cullen came to a halt and raised his hands. ‘I’m not moving.’

‘Get back.’

‘Here’s just fine.’ Cullen tossed his baton to the ground and waved at the approaching uniform, getting him to stop. He pointed at the BWV camera and got a thumbs up. ‘If you jump, you’ll most likely survive the fall.’

‘That’s a lie.’

‘You were lucky Jonathan died when you pushed him.’

‘I didn’t do anything!’

‘We know you killed him. We know you’ve been raping those men.’ Cullen inched his right foot forward. ‘Why did you do it?’

‘You wouldn’t understand.’

‘Try me.’

‘You really want to know?’ Tears flooded down her cheeks, twisted out of recognition. ‘My uncle fucked me when I was little. I was just a child!’

‘That doesn’t make it right for you to rape people. One of my best friends.’

‘Rich
enjoyed
it.’

‘He’s in hospital with a ruptured arsehole. You didn’t give him a choice.’

‘My fucking uncle never gave me a choice. Is that fair? Is any of this fair?’

‘Why did you attack Rich?’

She just shook her head.

‘What about Kyle Graham or Callum Egan?’

‘Who?’

‘Your victims, Lorna. Young men who’ve done nothing. You’ve torn them apart and they’ve done nothing to deserve it.’

She swallowed. Said nothing.

‘How did you fake the Rohypnol test?’

She grinned, still kept quiet.

‘Wait, you did yourself when I let you get changed?’

‘Maybe.’ She stared down into the water. ‘I thought I was over what happened. Then I started sleeping with Jonathan.’
 

Cullen took another step.

‘He kept our relationship a secret from everyone at work.’

Another shuffle forward.

She glared at him, fists clenched, fire in her eyes. ‘I couldn’t keep a lid on it. It made me feel things I’d not felt for years.’

‘You broke up with him at the orgy, right?’

‘How do you know that?’

‘What do you think I do all day?’ Cullen flashed up his hands, eyes locked with hers. ‘Why did you start raping men?’

‘Deep things came out of my skull.’ She stared back at the water. ‘I missed Jon.
Hurting
him.’

‘So you hurt other men?’

‘I didn’t mean to. Not at first.’

‘You couldn’t stop, though, could you?’ A long stride forward. Not far away now. ‘What happened on Saturday night?’

‘He invited me round and we ended up doing it one last time. I told him I didn’t want to see him again.
Couldn’t
see him again.’

Another stride, wind whipping Cullen’s hair. ‘And?’

‘He didn’t take it well. Started crying, clawing at me. I ran off and he followed me out here. Pathetic bastard was in his pants.’ She leaned over the side. ‘Right here.’

A long step. Not far now. Keep her talking. ‘Why did you kill Martin Ferguson?’

‘Because he was talking to you, like Rich in the club last night. It was only a matter of time before one of them told you about me.’

‘You framed Candy.’

‘Now she deserved it. The little witch had her claws into Jonathan.’

Cullen took another step. ‘Come on, Lorna—’
 

She jumped.

Cullen lurched forward. Reached out, catching her jacket. Tugging hard.

The weight of her body fell away, leaving her jacket. She tumbled down, twisting around, eyes locked onto Cullen, screaming. Her back crunched against the rocks, her head on the fake otter.

She screamed out, curdling Cullen’s gut.

He shut his eyes, collapsing to his knees, clutching her jacket tight.

Cullen handed the clipboard back to the uniform. ‘Type that up and I’ll sign it when I get back to the station.’

‘Sarge.’ The uniform nodded and walked off.

The wind blowing down the Water of Leith valley cut into Cullen. He started across the bridge, traffic now rumbling past. Rubberneckers craned their necks to watch him.

He stared at his hands, fingers not strong enough. He shoved them deep in his pockets and powered through the sheet of early-summer rain. Stopped near where—

He looked down. Lorna lay on a gurney, just by the rocks, mouth covered in breathing apparatus. Body arched back. Eyes wide open. Two paramedics wheeled her over to the ambulance.

Blood spilled over the rocks where she’d landed, dyeing the fake otter red.

Cullen sucked in breath.

‘Sergeant!’

Cullen twisted round and nodded at Methven. He let out a deep breath. ‘Sir.’

Methven patted him on the back. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m a bit shaken up, to be honest.’

‘Hell of a business. Can’t believe she jumped.’

‘I tried to reach her, sir, I was—’

‘You couldn’t’ve stopped her. She wanted to die.’

‘She still might.’

‘This isn’t your fault, Sergeant. You’ve saved lives. Your friend’s, for one.’

‘Thanks, sir.’

‘DC Murray’s been a credit to our team. The NCA are hopeful they can claw back those funds.’ Methven cleared his throat. ‘We need to talk about this scuffle with DS Bain.’

Cullen leaned against the wall, looking over at the ambulance trundling up the brae. ‘Now?’

‘You can’t punch people, Sergeant.’

‘We locked horns. That’s it.’

‘Not what he’s saying.’

‘He’s a lying bastard.’

‘He’s asked me to take you off active duty.’

‘Nobody witnessed it.’

‘You’re lucky.’

‘So that’s it?’

‘Of course it’s not. It never is for him.’ Methven leaned against the wall. ‘I’ve had the Chief Constable phoning me up about one of my sergeants scuppering a high-profile drug investigation.’

‘I can only apologise.’

‘That didn’t get us anywhere, Sergeant.’

‘Vardy’s hauled his guys off the street, sir. Candy could still testify against him.’

‘I very much doubt it.’

‘Stopping selling the drugs isn’t enough?’