Dyed in the Wool (12 page)

Skinner licked his lips. "You won't regret it."

"I've got a feeling I will."

*
*
*

Walking into the public reception room in Bathgate police station, Cullen felt like he'd gone back in time a few years. Nothing had changed - it still had the same smell, the same acrid taste in the air.

Sally Meldrum, the desk sergeant, looked up from her computer. "Long time no see."

Cullen gave his best smile. "Hi Sally. Wondering if you could help me."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh aye, still asking favours?"

"Always." Cullen grinned. "Have you had Barry Skinner in for anything?"

"Him?" She tilted her head back, staring at the ceiling. "Yes, we've had him in. Lewd behaviour. Again."

Cullen winced. "Who's leading the case?"

"Duncan West. And you're in luck, he's upstairs."

"Thanks, I know my way up." Cullen signed the ledger.

She buzzed him through and he made his way upstairs to the main office area.

PC Duncan West was sifting through a case file. He looked up and caught Cullen approaching. He shook his head and nudged the officer next to him - PC Green. "Here, Shagger, it's a papal visit."

Green turned round. "Bet you're here to see me, right?"

"I'm here to see Duncan, actually."

"Oh."

West leaned back in his seat. "I'm putting money on Barry Skinner."

"Glad I didn't take the bet, then. Got it in one."

West nodded slowly. "Let's get a room. The walls have ears in this place."

Green scowled. "What you saying?"

"Not you. Just can't be too careful." West got to his feet, towering over Cullen at six foot seven, enough to make even Caldwell look small. He led them into the interview suite, looking through the small windows in the doors until he found an empty one. "Here we go."

Cullen followed him in, sitting opposite. "This room still stinks of mushrooms."

"Nothing much changes in this place." West put his feet up on the table. "What's Barry got you doing then, Cullen?"

"He's got some information I might need."

"Doesn't he always? If information on Ravencraig scumbags was a currency, he'd be a millionaire."

"Quite. Thing is, I'm working a double murder just down the road and the victims are both from Ravencraig. We know next to nothing about them and Skinner does."

West leaned across the table. "Okay. He's been caught flashing again. Whipping his willie out to little old ladies is one thing but doing it outside a primary school is another. He says he's flashing the mothers after the kids have gone in but they don't quite see it that way."

Cullen rubbed his forehead. "Jesus Christ."

"I don't think even the good Lord can save that boy. He's already appeared in court. He's out awaiting trial. We've got officers around the schools in the town plus a patrol down his street making sure he keeps himself to himself."

"Is there anything we can do?"

"Like what?"

"Well, this is a murder inquiry. If there's anything he comes up with that can help us, is there any chance of leniency?"

"Are you serious?" West held his hand up. "Wait, I know. You are. This is a major collar we've got here. Dirty little bastard could go down for years for this and you're asking if we can go for some leniency?"

"I know it's a bit morally dubious, Duncan, but this is a major murder."

West leaned back in his chair. "You're quite the big shot these days, aren't you?"

"If you want to see it that way. I still get paid pretty much the same."

"Is the information worth it?"

"I need to dangle a carrot in front of his face to find out what he's got. If it's useful then I want to make it happen pretty quickly."

West drummed his fingers on the table and for a few seconds. "What's in it for us? This is a conviction we'd be giving up. You know how it is, we're under serious pressure here ahead of Police Scotland."

Cullen took a deep breath. "Is this a personal gripe you've got, or a professional one?"

"Professional, of course."

"Pity."

West frowned. "Why?"

"Well, if you were after personal glory, I might be able to see what I could get coming your way."

"Are you trying to bribe me, Cullen?"

"I'm trying to solve a murder and I'm using whatever tricks I can to get there. I can make this difficult. We've worked together long enough for you to know I don't take no for an answer. My DCI could have a word with the inspector here."

"So you're trying to take the decision away from me, right?"

Cullen shook his head. "I'm trying to save us both hassle. Besides, if Skinner is talking shite, I'm more than happy to do him with wasting police time and any other charges we could drop on him."

"He's your CHIS, though."

Cullen shrugged. "I don't work out here any more. More than happy to drop him, especially if he's been doing what he's supposed to have been."

West sat in silence for practically a full minute. "I'll see what I can do. It's possible we could alter some of the charges. You'd be due me a huge favour, though."

Cullen raised his hands. "Just say the word."

"Oh, don't worry, Scott. I will."

*
*
*

"What did he say again?" Skinner leaned forward, making a steeple with his hands.

Cullen sighed - this was the third attempt to get the message through. "PC West said he might be able to get the charges altered so they relate to a lesser offence. I'd imagine you'll get community service."

"See that's the bit I'm struggling to get. I thought the charges were going to go away."

"I'm not a miracle worker. You've committed a serious crime, Barry. In fact, I doubt we'd be having this conversation now if I'd known what you'd actually done when I left here first thing. You were flashing at a primary school."

"I was tempted by the mothers. They were asking to see my willie!"

Cullen screwed his eyes up, doubting whether he did have anything useful - Skinner's world only occasionally intersected with reality. "I've done my bit, Barry. You need to give me your side."

"Fine." Skinner took a deep breath. "As I said, it's about Kenny Souness. This never went to the cops, right, but he kicked the shite out of a guy called Gavin Tait."

"Who's he?"

"He lives in Ravencraig, likes. You know that Little Britain?"

Cullen couldn't stand the programme. "I know it."

"Well, that sketch, 'only gay in the village', that's Gavin Tait. Only gay in Ravencraig."

"Kenny Souness beat him up because he was gay?"

"That's what I heard a couple year ago."

"Why did it not go to the police?"

"No idea. It just didn't."

Cullen made a note. "Where does Tait live?"

Skinner got a sheet of paper and wrote an address down. "Here you go."

Cullen knew the street, just two over from Skinner's flat. He got to his feet and snatched the sheet of paper. "I'll be in touch if this doesn't go well."

"Just remember your side of the deal."

Cullen left the flat. As he hurried back to his car, he got out his phone and called West.

"You get anything useful?"

"We'll see. It's a possible. Did you guys ever hear of Kenny Souness beating up a Gavin Tait?"

"News to me. Is this Skinner's amazing revelation?"

"It is."

"Good luck with it."

"Listen, Duncan, I need to honour my end of the bargain either way."

"You owe me big time, Scott. Big time."

"Don't I know it."

He ended the call, unlocked his car and got in. As he drove, his heart raced. He was really in the shit if this didn't go well. Sharon had warned him about letting his cowboy antics get the better of him and here he was up to his waist in muck.

He pulled up outside Tait's flat, a seventies concrete tenement. He checked the sheet - flat two. Ground floor.

He got out and entered the building. The nameplate above the door on the right read 'TAIT'. He knocked and waited. Nothing.

He knelt down and shouted through the letterbox. "Gavin, this is the police."

No answer.

"Gavin. This is DC Scott Cullen of Lothian & Borders. I need to speak to you."

Cullen got up, sweat beading in his armpits. He'd gone out on a limb to get Skinner off a serious charge and he'd fallen into a trap, Skinner knowing exactly how to snare a desperate and ambitious Cullen.

He kicked his boot against the door but there was still no answer. He headed across the landing and knocked on the door.

An old man answered, blinking in the light. "Can I help you, son?"

"I'm looking for Gavin Tait."

The man nodded slowly. "Ah, young Gavin. You'll be lucky. Moved to Stirling a few weeks ago."

"Do you have an address?"

"Aye, I do. As a matter of fact, I've got a big bundle of post for him." He looked Cullen up and down. "You a debt collector or something?"

Cullen got out his warrant card. "Police."

"Right you are." He reached over to the sideboard and retrieved a pile of post, wrapped in a sheet of paper. "Here you go, son. The address is on there, I think it's up by the castle."

As he drove through the city, Cullen realised he didn't really know Stirling that well, but he knew where the castle was. Sandwiched between streets filled with beautiful Georgian and Victorian houses and some of the worst housing estates in Scotland, was a smaller version of Edinburgh's Royal Mile, old tenement buildings leading uphill to the castle, hotels and arts centres sitting amongst low-rent housing. Gavin Tait lived halfway up the hill, just past a large hotel displaying adverts for a Scottish crime fiction festival.

He got out and checked the sheet wrapped around Tait's mail. Nineteen was a tall building, looking like a sixties facsimile of the seventeenth century. 2F1 - flat one, second floor. Cullen pressed the buzzer and the door opened without a word. He headed up, carrying the stack of letters under one arm.

Tait stood leaning against the doorframe. He was young and thin, a dressing gown open almost to the waist. "You're early. Come on in." He turned and sauntered inside.

Cullen frowned before following him. He swallowed as he worked out what was going on - Tait was a rent boy and he clearly thought Cullen was his john. He followed Tait into the living room, wondering how far he should play along.

Tait sprawled on the settee.

Cullen sat on the edge of an adjacent sofa and looked around the bohemian room, wooden cabinets in the kitchen area, lots of pot plants and unlit candles in empty wine bottles. "Mr Tait."

"Yes." Tait fidgeted with the lining on the dressing gown. "It's Paul, isn't it?"

"It's Scott, actually." Cullen got his warrant card out. "Detective Constable Scott Cullen, in fact."

"Oh my God." Tait started to panic, his leg twitching.

"You can relax. I'm not vice and I don't work in Central Division."

Tait reached over to a side table and got a pair of glasses. He looked at Cullen's warrant card, then put his hand over his mouth. He handed the card back before crossing his legs. "Why are you here, then?"

Cullen got out his notebook. "I believe you are acquainted with one Kenneth Souness."

Tait gulped, his large Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I know Kenny."

"Mr Souness was found dead on Wednesday night."

"I see." Tait frowned. "Why would that have anything to do with me?"

"I gather you were once beaten up by Mr Souness on account of your sexuality."

Tait pouted. His mouth began to twitch. "That's true. There were a few of them, really, but Kenny's the only one I recognised."

"Why did they do it?"

"Because he couldn't stand how lovely I am."

"Okay. And in truth?"

Tait sighed. "We were at school together. The same year. One day… One day, I came on to Kenny. I hadn't actually come out myself at that point. I knew what I was gay - God did I know - but it's not something you want people in a town like Ravencraig knowing, let me tell you."

"Why Kenny?"

"Are you kidding?" Tait laughed. "He was a beauty at school. Film star looks. Like Brad Pitt with maybe a bit of David Beckham."

Cullen tried to recall the photos plastered all over the Incident Room - Pitt and Beckham weren't the sort of names that came to mind when he thought of Souness, a Scottish hard man. "What happened when you tried it on with Kenny?"

"This was when we were seventeen. It was at a party, we were sharing a pack of Marlboro Lights in someone's parents' back garden. We had a real moment. When I tried to kiss him, he punched me and ran away. I didn't really see him again after that."

Cullen made a note of it. "Didn't really?"

Tait's eyebrows twitched. "I don't know what you mean."

"You were at school with him. You both lived in Ravencraig. You said yourself, it's not the sort of town you want people to know you're gay. When you say 'didn't really', that means you did."

Tait nodded. "After that, I kept myself to myself. I left school at sixteen. Went to college, got a job as a hairdresser. Typical Scottish poof."

"I tried to find you in Ravencraig."

"I moved up here to get away. I'm much more of a city boy."

"I can sympathise with that. Did you see Mr Souness after that incident?"

"Just a couple of times. Once in the street, once in the pub. The night in the pub." Tait bit his lip. "I hadn't wanted to go but one of my pals from college made me. It was with her and her friends. It wasn't one of the pubs in town I would go to, let me tell you that. Kenny was there with his friend, Xander. Now, he was a hunk at school. Was always into the younger girls, though."

Cullen jotted that down - if Aitken had a thing for younger girls then maybe he'd got caught by an angry father. Demi Baird was seven or eight years younger at a rough guess. "Go on."

"Okay, so they're in there, drinking, and I'm with Kelly-Marie and four other girls. I went to the toilet and I saw Souness stood at the urinal. He was pretty drunk. I mean, he was pretty and drunk. He said something like 'Keep your poofy eyes off of my cock' as I passed him."