Devil in the Detail (Scott Cullen Mysteries) (42 page)

Gibson had been defiant - his tactics had been denial and refusal to co-operate. Every single question met with a response of 'No comment'.

"Mr Gibson," said Cullen. "Can you confirm that your daughter had two sessions a week with Father Mulgrew?"

"No comment."

"If you want to play it that way," said Cullen, "I can certainly speak to your son or your wife, who I'm sure-"

"All right," snapped Gibson. He snorted. "Mandy did have two sessions a week with Mulgrew."

"And you know that Mandy had signs of sexual abuse," said Cullen.

Gibson nodded. "Not until you..." He shut up immediately.

It hit Cullen like a hammer - Gibson had not been aware of the abuse, or of Mulgrew's history, until Cullen had told him. Cullen felt like the room started spinning. In one instant, he cracked the case and fucked it up. He searched through his notebook.

"Can you confirm that the first you knew about Father Mulgrew's history was when I informed you at 5.30pm yesterday afternoon?" asked Cullen.

"No comment," said Gibson.

"Mr Gibson," said Cullen, his voice loud, "you need to confirm this."

"Constable, my client has already given a no comment," said Stevens. "I refer you back to that answer."

Cullen could see Gibson slipping between his fingers. He almost had him but the more that he grabbed, the less he had. He looked at Bain, who just shrugged. Gibson's eyes were focused on the desk. Stevens sat tapping a propelling pencil off his own notebook.

Cullen knew there was something that he could use, something at the back of his head that Gibson had said. He hadn't registered it fully at the time.

Cullen leafed through his notes - they'd spoken to Gibson a fair few times, at least four according to Cullen's notes. He couldn't quite find it. Then it struck him - the alibi for the car. He found that page - Gibson's alibi had been Mulgrew, which was very convenient as they now knew that he was dead by that point. Nobody in the street had confirmed the sighting. Cullen had written some of it down verbatim. One sentence stuck out.

'I now know the reason why Seamus didn't turn up'.

The alibi he'd given was for just after nine. They interviewed Gibson at ten thirty that morning about Mulgrew's death and they hadn't told him when Mulgrew had been killed.

"Inspector," said Stevens, "my client is being detained here for absolutely no purpose that I can determine. Your underling here is doing some admin while we sit here. This is not effective use of mine or my client's time."

Cullen looked at Bain. "I need a word," he whispered.
 

Bain leaned over and paused the interview. He pointed a finger at Lamb. "You stay here," he said.

Bain marched into the corridor. He stood, arms folded, glaring at Cullen. "This better be fuckin' good, Sundance."

"I think I've got him."

"How?"

Cullen showed Bain his notebook. "He's slipped up," he said. "He didn't know that Mulgrew was dead last night until this morning." He read out the quote.
 

"This is it?"

"Trust me," said Cullen, "I can get him."

"Fill your fuckin' boots, Sundance."

They went back in and Bain resumed the interview. Lamb was frowning at Cullen.

"Mr Gibson," said Cullen, "I will give you a quote from your statement earlier today which related to an alibi you were asked to give for your whereabouts last night. You said that you 'now knew the reason why Seamus didn't turn up'. Mr Gibson, can you confirm that?"

"If that's what you wrote down then that's what I said," said Gibson.

"We had asked for your whereabouts last night," said Cullen, "but we hadn't told you why we were looking."

Gibson gulped. "I'm sure you said..."

"Mr Gibson, how did you know that Father Mulgrew had been killed last night?" asked Cullen.

"He was killed last night, you found the body."

"You didn't know the time of death," said Cullen. "In fact, you shouldn't know it now."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why did you say that you knew the real reason that Mulgrew hadn't turned up?" asked Cullen.

"I don't know."

"You made it clear that it was related to the death of Father Mulgrew," said Cullen. "You didn't know when he died."

"I'm not sure that you can get that from my statement," said Gibson. He was visibly rattled, his hands shook and sweat poured down his brow.

"Mr Gibson, I go back to my previous question," said Cullen, "the first you knew about Father Mulgrew's child abuse was when I informed you at 5.30pm yesterday afternoon, wasn't it?"

"Seamus had told me before."

"Is that true?" asked Cullen. "You entrusted your daughter's care to a known sex offender?"

"We had no secrets between us..."

"Mr Gibson, was the first you knew of Father Mulgrew's history when I told you?"

Gibson looked around the room. He closed his eyes and nodded. "Yes."

"Did you take any further action?" asked Cullen.

Gibson started crying. "I didn't know... I..."

"Mr Gibson, can you confirm what happened in that shack by Balgone Ponds?" asked Cullen.

"Seamus called me," said Gibson. "He was frightened. He thought the police would be after him and..."

Cullen was sure the phone calls that Gibson had been taking all day were from Mulgrew.
 

"Had you been in regular contact with Father Mulgrew throughout the day?" asked Cullen.

"I had."

"What about?"

"Church matters," said Gibson.

"Are you sure that's the answer that you want to give?"

"No comment," said Gibson.

"What did you do when Father Mulgrew phoned you?"

"I arranged to meet him," said Gibson. "I didn't know what he'd been doing to Mandy. It was only when you told me that I began to put two and two together. Jesus."

Cullen caught Bain looking at him, frowning.

"Did Seamus attack you when you got there?"

"No comment."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Did you attack him?"

"No comment."

Cullen sighed. He sat and looked at Gibson. "Does any of this have anything to do with the exorcism?" he eventually asked.

"Which one?"

Cullen was thrown. "What do you mean 'which one'?"

Gibson grimaced. "Well, of course, you mean at the service," he said. "That's the only exorcism."

"She shouted 'Fuck! No!' over and over, I believe," said Cullen. "That was a cry for help."

Gibson swallowed, tried to wiped away tears. "I know that now."

"Mr Gibson," said Cullen, "we have a verified witness report that places you at Father Mulgrew's cottage with Mandy at exactly 11pm on Sunday night. This is the approximate time of death for your daughter."

"What?"

"You heard," snapped Bain.

Gibson put his head on the table. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen," he said. He slumped back on his chair.
 

"Mr Gibson may retract that statement later," said Stevens.

"What happened?" asked Cullen, ignoring the lawyer.

"I took Mandy around to Father Mulgrew's house." Gibson took a deep breath. "He was going to exorcise her again. He told me that he could get rid of the demon that time." A tear slicked down his face. "Seamus took Mandy upstairs for the ritual."

"And she died?" asked Cullen.

He nodded. "She just stopped breathing."

"Just stopped breathing?" asked Bain, his face screwed up.

"Father Mulgrew said that the demon had taken her when he left her body," said Gibson.

"And you believed him?"

Gibson nodded. "At the time, yes."

"Did you see this happen?" asked Cullen.

"No, I was downstairs," said Gibson.
 

Bain cleared his throat. "The postmortem report said that she was suffocated," he said. "With a pillow."

Gibson nodded.

"Did you try to make it look like Jamie Cook had been responsible?" asked Cullen.
 

"We did," said Gibson. "It was Seamus' idea. He wanted to make it look like Mandy had been killed by Jamie Cook. It would leave fewer questions and leave the town free of one of the biggest blights it had seen."

"So you tried to frame an innocent man for murder?" asked Cullen.

"Yes," said Gibson.

"What happened when you met up with Father Mulgrew at Balgone Ponds?"

Gibson looked away from them. "He was desperate," he said. "His eyes were red. His hands were shaking." He swallowed. "I asked him about the history of abuse in Ireland. I asked him about Mandy having been abused. He blamed it on Jamie. I asked him about how Mandy died, he said it was my fault." He exhaled through his nose. "I exploded with rage. I grabbed hold of him. I asked him again what had happened with Mandy. He told me that he had suffocated her. She was going to tell people about what he had been doing. He told me it would all come out, him and Jamie Cook, him and Mandy. He pleaded with me, said that our faith had to be strong. It was God trying us."

"What did you do?"

"I suffocated him."
 

"Why?" asked Cullen.

Gibson sighed. "To make it look like Jamie Cook had done it."

Cullen shook his head. "What about the teddy bear?"

Gibson nodded. "I planted that," he said. "I wish I hadn't."

Cullen looked at Bain. He shrugged his shoulders. Cullen checked his watch. "Interview terminated at ten eighteen."

Bain stood up. "Get to your feet," he said.
 

Gibson slowly stood.

"Charles Gibson, I am charging you with the murder of Seamus Mulgrew."

Cullen tapped at his computer back in the Leith Walk station. They'd charged and processed Gibson. Cullen didn't think the case would go to a full trial and he hoped that the confession would stick.
 

Cullen checked his watch; 11.30pm. He estimated he would need another twenty minutes to finish his part of the case report, then he was off to Sharon's. He had the next day off as part of his shift pattern but knew he would be called at some point.
 

For once, they hadn't headed to the pub to celebrate the arrest. Everyone involved with the case seemed badly affected. Cullen had spotted Bain mooching around earlier but he wanted to avoid him. He imagined that Turnbull had designs on Bain's time, anyway.

Cullen was pleased with the day's work. He'd managed to solve the case. He was astonished by what was festering below the surface in these towns, little details known only to a select few. Cullen wondered what would happen to the Rainbow group - their leader murdered and outed as a child molester, the second-in-command awaiting trial for murder. Some might rejoin the Church of Scotland, others would give up on religion. The Gibson family certainly would not recover - daughter dead, husband a murderer. A single moment of madness was all it had taken.
 

Cullen had decided to admit that he had given Gibson the two pieces of information that had tipped him over the edge. Bain had doubted there would be any repercussions, but Cullen did not trust him.

He stood up and stretched. He needed a break from his report and so had a rummage through his pigeonhole. There were several newsletters and a holiday request form. His heart just about stopped when he looked at the last item, a brown A4 envelope.

He opened it, hands shaking.

It was from Tommy Smith - the trace on the phone calls. The first sheet referred to the two Gibson numbers - Cullen thought it would have been useful to have had them a few hours earlier, but it would go in the report.
 

He looked at the second sheet - it was the unknown caller.

He read the name and his eyes widened.

Epilogue
Wednesday, 25th January, 2012

Cullen sat in the car and waited, listening to the early evening January rain thunder down on the roof and watching it pour down the windscreen. He looked at the house, the warm glow of lights from behind the curtains, and decided to wait another few minutes until the rain quietened down. He'd been procrastinating for the last twenty minutes, reluctant to make the decision to move.

He picked up the envelope from the passenger seat, the one from his pigeonhole and opened it again. He read the memo for the umpteenth time that day. On his day off, he had only had to deal with Sharon's cat and Bain chasing him for the report that he had already submitted. He had attended a counselling session - they were down to once a month now - and had started talking about the case, about Mandy and Mulgrew, about Jamie Cook and Charles Gibson, about Kirsty-Jane Platt and her father. He knew there was more to deal with but he felt good to talk about something other than Keith Miller's stabbing and his guilt. His counsellor suggested meeting once a week for a month or so to see how it went.

He folded the sheet in quarter and put it in his jacket pocket. He rehearsed all of the things he wanted to say. The rain had slowed enough for him to finally consider going to the door. He locked his car and ran across the path to the house. He sheltered under the eaves as he waited.

"What the fuck do you want?" asked Derek Miller.

"I want to know why you've been crank calling me, Derek," said Cullen.

Miller looked Cullen up and down. "You fuckin' what?"

Cullen took the letter out. "You weren't very smart, Derek," he said. "You used your own mobile."

Miller shrugged. "So what do you want to do, eh?"

"Can I come in?" asked Cullen. "It's pissing down."

Miller leaned back and gestured for Cullen to come in. Miller led Cullen through to the living room, where they had met with Bain, Sharon and Miller's parents

"My parents are out," he said.

"I know."

Miller sat on a reclining armchair, suddenly looking small and worried. "What are you going to do with your information then, eh?"

Cullen chose the armchair he'd sat in all those months before. "I could press charges," said Cullen.

"I could deny it," said Miller. "My phone got nicked, eh? Some wee bastard fae Wester Hailes choried it fae a club on Saturday night."