Windchill (22 page)

"No worse than usual, right?" Cullen swapped ears. Still nothing. "Might have a lead. Can you get Crystal?"

"Bloody hell." Buxton marched off into the stairwell.

"Scott?"

"Yeah, I'm here."

"Right, got the file. What is it?"

"Sharon said Kenny Falconer had a bookshop just by Tynecastle. Do you know where it is?"

"Yeah. Got it.
Boab's Books
. 132 Gorgie Road."

Chapter 53

Cullen drummed his fingers on the dashboard. Fucker better not be getting away. "Methven's definitely got a patrol out looking for him?"

"Yeah. Soon as we found the body, mate." Buxton shook his head as he drove down Gorgie Road. "You know how much of an annoying bugger you're being?"

"Sorry, I just don't like the fact we've no idea where Falconer is."

"You're just back from holiday. Chill out, mate."

"This is me chilling out."

"Unreal." Buxton pulled in on the red line on the other side of the road, stopping just by the tattoo parlour. "We waiting for support?"

"He's probably not there, right?" Cullen shrugged. "Come on." He slammed the car door, just as a taxi behind them honked its horn. He held up his warrant card and waved him on. "You got that 'On Official Police Business' sign out?"

"Yeah." Buxton locked the car and jogged round to the front.

Cullen paused, checking out
Boab's Books
. The sign had red text on a black background, the square window displaying paperbacks and hardbacks - Scottish crime fiction in among some Booker-nominated titles. He squinted - a blackboard sat behind the novels at the back, yellow letters clicked into place.

This month's titles - Splosh!, Bumlove, 16+ and Girls&Boys.

"Shite." Cullen rubbed both hands on his face. "It's a porn shop."

"Oh." Buxton laughed. "Brilliant."

"Fuck it." Cullen opened the door, heading inside the poky space. It was maybe five metres across, a wide table almost filling the space, buttressed by heaving bookshelves. Signs led through a corridor into the back of the shop, spotlights pointing at them, obscuring their view through a blanket of smoke. The harsh smell of incense sticks burning in an empty wine bottle.

Cullen checked out the shelves. What was the name of the book?
Two-Way Split
? He looked around - nothing on the table looked like it. Should've googled it. Fuck it. He headed to the till, eyes screwed up to avoid the glare of the lights, the haze clearing as he made it to the counter.

The proprietor was sitting behind a wide table reading a book. Mid-fifties, beard, bald head, overweight, dressed in black. He beamed. "First customers of the day!"

Cullen smiled. "Hi, I'm looking for a book called
Two-Way Split
."

The man swallowed. "Any idea who it's by?"

"Sorry, I don't."

He grinned and rubbed the side of his head. "Might be better trying Waterstones or Amazon."

Cullen rested his hands on the counter. "I'm looking for Kenny."

He frowned. "Kenny?"

"Falconer."

"I see." He sniffed. "I'm afraid Kenny's not here."

"But he has worked here, right?"

"Are you police?"

"We are."

"Then I'll need to see some credentials."

Cullen nodded as he got out his warrant card. "Here you go. DC Scott Cullen." Thumb to the right. "ADC Simon Buxton."

"Look, pal, your colleagues visited us a few weeks ago and took all of Kenny's... paraphernalia."

"Well, it's Mr Falconer we're interested in."

"Ah."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I've not seen him for a while."

"Heard from him?"

The bookseller folded the paperback in front of him. Noam Chomsky, one of his linguistics works. "Nope."

"What about hearing from any mutual acquaintances?"

"Not quite."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There are always rumours about Kenny."

"And what are they?"

He zipped up his lips. "Unless you're arresting me, I'm not saying anything."

"Kenny's killed someone."

The bookseller's eyes bulged. "Excuse me?"

"Are you acquainted with an Andrew Smith?"

"Andrew? Andrew's dead?"

"We just found his body." Cullen sniffed, letting his eyes wander over the back of the shop, stacks of magazines in mylar bags, girls with few clothes on, mouths hanging open or biting their lips. "Fancy an accessory to murder charge?"

The bookseller stood up, hands in the air. "Look, I've told you! I don't know where Kenny's gone."

"Really?"

"I've absolutely no idea."

"Can you think of any possibilities?"

"Well, there's one..."

Chapter 54

"Up here!" Buxton leaned across the banister. "Come on, you lazy fucker!"

Cullen jogged up the last few steps, feeling every second of his thirty-one years. "Can't we just wait a bit?"

"He'll get away. You're really unfit, aren't you?"

"I usually rely on lifts out here." Cullen stopped at the seventh flight and leaned against the scarred black railings, the air stale. Wester fucking Hailes. The large window across the stairwell looked out over the railway line to a sprawling golf course, the red roofs of Clovenstone in the distance. "Falconer's not moved?"

"Nope." Buxton shook his head. "Still got two units outside in case this goes to shit."

"You almost sound like a proper cop there."

"Cheers, DI Cullen."

"Fuck off."

"You caught your breath yet?"

"Just about enough, I think." Cullen nodded before leading them through the fire doors into the long corridor, a waft of conflicting smells hitting him - cooking, smoking, heating. "Which one is it?"

"Seven stroke ten." Buxton looked along the corridor, Airwave clamped to his head. "Just there on the right."

Cullen got on the other side of the prison-standard steel security door. How the hell could they get past that? He leaned close to Buxton. "Where are Methven and Chantal?"

"Still coming up the other stairwell, I think."

Cullen clocked Methven jogging down the corridor, the fire door juddering shut behind him. "There he is." He held up his hands, forcing the DI back. He nodded at Buxton. "Stay here."

"Sure."

Cullen met Methven fifteen strides away from the target flat.

Methven patted his shoulder. "Good work, Constable."

"We don't know if he's in there, sir."

"All the same. You've made sure Falconer hasn't left, though?"

"Aye. Got two units downstairs watching the exits."
 

Jain caught up with them. "What's the drama?"

Cullen nodded at Buxton. "There's a massive security door."

"Ah." Methven folded his arms, eyes shut. "Any idea how we're getting in?"

Cullen shrugged. "I'm thinking the old meter reader trick?"

"I like it. We've got a warrant, so go for it." Methven waved at the door. "On you go."

Cullen led back down to the flat. He hammered against the steel, the din reverberating around the long corridor. "Excuse me, pal, it's the gas man. Need to check your meter."

"Aw, fuck's sake, man."

Cullen carefully extended his baton - that was definitely Falconer.

A bolt slid back, followed by another, then a third. The door opened a crack.

Buxton barged in shoulder first, warrant card out. "Kenny Falconer, you're under arrest!"

"Get to fuck!" Falconer ran back down the long hall, tugging a white door shut behind him at the far end.

"He's in there. You follow him." Methven gripped the door surround. "Buxton, wait here with me."

Cullen led Jain down the corridor, matching Falconer's retreat, passing another door on the way.

Jain tried the door. "It's fucking locked."

"Kick it down!"

Jain nodded before raising her leg and stamping forward, the sole of her boot connecting with the door handle, the plywood collapsing under the weight.

Cullen followed her in, eyes darting around the room. They were in a kitchen area, dishes and cutlery scattered across the granite worktop. The other half of the room was a lounge: TV, Xbox, laptop, settees, dining table.

A door at the far end lay open.

"Go back!" Cullen headed for the door.

In the hall, Falconer stood over Methven and Buxton, lying by the front door, prodding a baseball bat at them. He saw them and bolted through the door.

Cullen darted over, kneeling to check they were okay.

Buxton sat up, rubbing his skull. "Fucker got me."

"Are you okay, sir?"

"I'll sodding live. Get after him!"

Jain shot past Cullen. He got up and followed her back out into the corridor.

A door slammed shut to the left.

Cullen called out to her, halfway down the corridor in the opposite direction. "This way!"

She doubled back, overtaking him by the time they reached the stairs. "Another Cullen fuck-up, right?"

"Shut up." Cullen leaned over the balustrade, the stairs descending around a square central gap, the noise of footsteps cannoning around the space. "He's heading down."

Jain took the steps two at a time.

Cullen tried to match it, worrying he'd go arse over tit. As he descended, he noticed Falconer across the gap, a flight further down the stairs.

Falconer spotted him, beady eyes narrowing as they focused. "Think you can catch me, you pig scum?" He backed through a door, the level below Jain.

Cullen pointed. "He's gone through that door!"

Jain swung round, almost stumbling. "Got you!"

Cullen reached into his jacket pocket for his Airwave as he jogged down, calling Buxton's handset. "He's heading along the corridor on the second floor!"

"Which way did you go outside the flat?"

"Left."

"Good. We're heading to the right."

"We're going back along the fourth floor. We'll meet you in the middle, okay?" Cullen pocketed the device as he stepped through the open door onto dark blue carpet tiles. The corridor was darker than upstairs, most of the windows to their left boarded up. Just ahead, a door opened and an Asian man walked out, face full of fury.

Cullen weaved to the left to avoid him, catching his jacket on the window surround and tearing the fabric.

Jain raced ahead, looking like she was losing Falconer as he barrelled through the door at the end.

Cullen tried to pick up the pace but couldn't, his breath almost torn from his lungs. He stepped into the stairwell, a mirror image of the other, footsteps cannoning from above and below. Shite - Buxton and Methven weren't going to catch Falconer.

He raced downwards, taking the steps two at a time - Falconer was almost at entrance level, baseball bat at his feet, Stanley knife in hand, doing a dance with Jain.

She glanced at Cullen then started to circle round, goading Falconer to follow her.

Cullen waited until Falconer's back was to the stairs then made his move, taking a few steps across the tiles before swinging with his baton and catching him above the wrist, the knife flying across the floor.

Falconer spun around to face Cullen, eyes blazing, just as Jain grabbed him in a choke hold.

Cullen got in Falconer's face. "Kenneth Falconer, I'm arresting you for the murder of Andrew Smith."

Chapter 55

"Excellent work, Constables." Methven beamed as he entered the meeting room.

"Cheers, sir." Cullen slumped in the chair at the end. "Didn't want the little fucker to get away."

"He got me good and proper." Methven scowled as he rubbed the scratch on his cheek before patting the fresh mark on his forehead and looking at Buxton. "Are you okay?"

"I'm a bit of a baseball fan. Technically, he just bunted us." Buxton held his hands up as if wielding a bat and made a gentle forward motion. "That's when you let the ball hit off the bat."

"I sodding know my baseball, Constable." Methven glowered at him. "Are we likely to get a lawsuit as a result of his arrest?"

"I don't think so." Cullen rubbed the backs of his legs. "He was trying to stab Chantal when I clobbered him."

"Very well." Methven leaned on the table at the end. "Excellent work in finding the little toerag."

"Has Deeley had a look at the body?"

"He has indeed." Methven reached into his pocket for his own notebook. "He confirmed stabbing as the cause of death, much as we suspected. Preliminary blood toxicology looks clean as well."

"Did he get the time of death?"

"He did. Reckons Mr Smith has been dead a while. Given the state of decay, he put it at any time between the thirtieth of December and the second of January."

"We're going to be tying ourselves in knots covering that time frame, sir."

"Agreed." Methven held up a hand. "The post mortem will narrow that down, of course. Deeley's fast-tracking it for this afternoon."

"That's a relief."

"Indeed."

"Anything from the SOCOs?"

Methven grinned, nodding as he jangled the change in his pocket. "Mr Anderson managed to pull Falconer's prints off the murder weapon."

"That was quick."

"Indeed. If you recall, it was the inadequacy of Mr Anderson's department that let Falconer off a year ago. He's as eager as us to catch him."

"For once."

"He's not my favourite colleague."

The meeting room door clattered open and DC Jain walked through. "That's Falconer's lawyer arrived now, sir. He's ready to speak to you."

"Excellent." Methven nodded at Cullen. "Will you do the honours, Constable?"

"You want me and Buxton in there?"

"Yes, Constable. I do." Methven raised his heavy eyebrows. "I've got a post mortem to attend. And I'll need to brief Jim and Alison."

"Good luck, by the way." Jain smirked. "Just wait till you see who's defending him."

Chapter 56

"Ah, DC Cullen." Michael Nelson paced down the corridor, a stack of folders tucked in the armpit of his pinstripe suit, right hand outstretched. "We meet again."

Cullen frowned. "You represented Evelyn McCoull, didn't you?"

"Still do." Nelson glanced at Buxton before focusing on Cullen. "I assume you're not comfortable with me having time alone with Mr Falconer?"