Dyed in the Wool (8 page)

"Xander's dead."

"I know, I'm a detective and I'm trying to find out if Xander was murdered. I need your help."

Tina looked up at Cullen, her large eyes pleading with him. "You think my Xander was murdered?"

"It's a distinct possibility. His flatmate, Kenny, was found dead in the flat not long after we found Xander's body."

"Oh my God." Tina wiped a tear from her face. "They were best pals. I can't believe they're both gone." Tears flowed down her cheeks, quickly sliding onto the cream cardigan she wore. "They used to go to the football together."

"Can you think of anyone who might want to harm your son?"

"Xander was a good son. He got into bother when he was a teenager, but he sorted himself out. His father battered him until he stopped hanging about with the gangs he was in." Tina closed her eyes. "I shouldn't be telling you that, but it's the truth. Tommy battering him was the best thing that could have happened to the boy."

She opened her eyes again, glazed over with tears. "He got himself a good job at the Royal Bank. He was doing well, too. He should have moved away from this town. It's a bad place. I didn't want Xander getting trapped here like me."

"You mentioned Xander's father. Are you still together?"

"We split up about five year ago. Maybe four year, who knows? We didn't get divorced, couldn't be bothered with all the hassle."

"Does he still live locally?"

Tina nodded. "He does, aye. Other end of the town from here. It's still not far enough away."

"Can I ask why you separated?"

"You can ask, but I don’t see why you need to know."

"Mrs Aitken, I need to know if your son was murdered. We're looking for any motive at all, any possibility. I have to understand why you split up with your husband."

"It was mainly the beatings. He used to batter Xander and he used to batter me. He likes a drink. I might have said it helped him, but there comes a point, you know? Tommy was the most charming man you'd ever meet when he was sober. Soon as he had a lager in him, this demon came out. The only good thing that came of it all was getting Xander to quit the gang."

Cullen had seen it so many times before in small towns across the Lothians - a young couple trapped by their relationship and children. Frustration and resentment turned to anger and then anger turned to violence. Those that got out did well - those that stayed were generally doomed to sire the next generation, which would repeat the same mistakes. "Did you ever go to the police about this violence?"

"At the start, but then they couldn't do much, could they?"

"How did it end?"

"He just got fed up. As soon as Xander left home, he only had me. He just got bored of it. I was cramping his style."

Cullen jotted a few things in his notebook. He looked over at Caldwell. "Have you got any more questions?"

Caldwell leaned forward on the settee. "Was Xander seeing anybody?"

Tina nodded. "He was, aye. Sweet wee lassie called Demi Baird. Lives in Queensferry Avenue, other end of the town."

Cullen noted down Demi's mobile number.

"Of course, she'll be at work the now. She works at McArthur Glen in Livvy."

*
*
*

They struck lucky - Tommy Aitken was in.

Cullen leaned into the intercom. "Mr Aitken, it's the police."

"Ah, right."

Cullen looked back at Caldwell. "Can we come in?"

"I was just on my way out."

"We need to speak to you now."

"Right, come on then." The buzzer sounded and the door opened.

Cullen pushed into the dank stairwell. "Where do you think he's on his way to?"

Caldwell shrugged. "Probably the town's cheapest, roughest pub."

They got up to the second floor, Tommy Aitken standing in his doorway. He was a thin, wiry man with the cheeky smile of George Best in his happy drunk phase. He wore baggy denims and a hooded top. He looked mid-forties, old enough to be there for the Second Summer of Love - the Stone Roses, Acid House, Spike Island and all that. "Come on in, then."

The front door entered straight into his sparsely-furnished living room, which was tiny, even smaller than his wife's.

Cullen took one of the chairs. "Mr Aitken, we need to speak to you about your son."

"Aye, can you be quick about it?"

Cullen frowned. "Xander's dead, Mr Aitken."

"Aye, I know. No use in crying over spilt milk, you know what I mean? I was just heading out."

"Where to?"

"Wanted to meet a few of my pals. Try to process things."

"I see." Cullen unfolded his notebook. "What can you tell us about Xander?"

"The boy had a screw loose."

Cullen wasn't exactly wondering where the boy inherited the trait from. "What makes you say that?"

"Just couldn't focus on anything. When he was a laddie, he was getting into trouble with gangs and stuff. I managed to stop that behaviour, you know?"

Cullen made a show of flipping through his notebook. "When we spoke to your wife, she told us that you battered it out of him. Is that correct?"

Tommy inspected his fingernails - a couple on his right hand were long enough for finger-picking an acoustic guitar. "Suppose it is, aye."

Cullen pointed up at the Stone Roses posters on the wall above the fireplace, the only colour in the room. "Hard to reconcile the One Love stuff up there with beating your own son up."

Tommy screwed his face up. "It was tough love. The boy was going to end up in a bad place if we didn't sort his life out there and then. He ended up doing better than me. Working in a bank is such a good thing for this family to have achieved. We were both proud of the laddie."

"And yet he had a screw loose?"

"Aye, well. We could never quite stop him doing stupid things."

"Compared to your wife, you don't seem to be that upset. Why is that?"

"You know what women are like since Diana. I like to keep my cool."

Cullen wondered how much of his cool he kept when he beat the shit out of his son and wife. "Just out of interest, why did you and your wife split up?"

"None of your business."

"Xander's body has been found in suspicious circumstances. Coupled with his flatmate's body also being found, we're dealing with a major inquiry here. Any information - and I mean any - could prove useful and help us bring a killer or killers to justice."

"Did you say Kenny was dead?"

"He was discovered in their flat last night, just after Xander's body was found."

"Jesus." Tommy sat there for close to a minute, staring into space. "Jesus Christ." He rubbed his hand down his face. "Those pair were inseparable. From the age of about fifteen, they were best mates. Both of them were Rangers daft. Used to take them through to Ibrox when I was still working. Been a long time since I took them, mind you. I was proud they still went but Christ… I can't believe they're both dead."

"Can you think of anyone who might wish them dead?"

"Just a whole busload of Celtic fans." Tommy laughed.

"I'm glad your son's murder is a laughing matter."

Tommy's face straightened up. "Sorry. It's how I deal with things"

"That and beating your wife and son up?"

"What the fuck is this?"

"Mr Aitken, I need to know if there are any people that would wish to cause Xander harm. I would appreciate it if you would co-operate."

"Nobody springs to mind." Tommy sat, deep in thought for a few moments. "No, nobody. One thing, though - my son was found in a stolen Range Rover, right? I can buy that the silly wee bastard would have driven it down the bing himself and smashed it up, but you're saying he was murdered, is that right?"

"It's an avenue we're investigating. It's current protocol to treat all deaths as suspicious until proven otherwise. Given Xander's flatmate was also found murdered on the same evening, this certainly fits the profile."

"Right, right. Well, as I say, there's nobody I can think of that would have hated them pair enough to kill them. The boys were well thought of in the town."

"We understand Xander had a girlfriend. Demi Baird, is that right?"

"It is, but she doesn’t pronounce it like that. It’s just 'Demmy', not 'De-mee'."

"Are you close to her at all?"

"Daft wee lassie." Tommy screwed his face up. "I've no idea what my boy saw in her. He could have done a lot better."

"Okay. I think that's all for me. DC Caldwell?"

She shook her head.

*
*
*

Cullen turned right at the roundabout, McArthur Glen coming to view. "Instead of a high street, Livingston has McArthur Glen."

"Snob."

"Hardly." Cullen looked around the front of the mall. "Where did you say she worked?"

"M&S."

"Here'll do." Cullen pulled into the car park nearest to where he remembered the shop to be. "Used to come here all the time when I was based in Livvy."

"Well done you."

"Oh, come on, are you still pissed off with me?"

"Any reason why I shouldn't be?"

Cullen pulled on the handbrake. "Well, I asked every single question in both houses."

"Almost. You didn't ask about his girlfriend. If it'd been up to you, we'd never have known about her."

Cullen flared his nostrils. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"No, that's the second time today you've gone off on one at me. I'm not aware of doing anything to deserve it."

"That's part of the problem." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm being a bitch and you don't deserve it. Well, not all of it. I'm just tired from the commute. I suppose I was expecting to get a bit more of a lead role in this. So far, I've helped Jobsworth put the case into HOLMES then helped you speak to some people in a bank. That's hardly exciting, is it?"

"And you call me a princess?"

She laughed. "Well, we're here. Do you want me to lead?"

"Aye, go on."

Cullen got out and led them across the car park, half empty in the October late afternoon sunshine. They walked through the main entrance, past Wetherspoon's, the curry house and Pizza Express. M&S was just ahead on the right.

Caldwell asked for Demi at the customer service desk.

They only had to wait thirty seconds before a pretty, if surly, girl approached them, Demi on her badge. "Is it DC Caldwell?"

Caldwell showed her warrant card. "It is, yes. Is there somewhere private we could go to discuss matters?"

Demi turned up her lip. "What 'matters'?"

"Your boyfriend's death?"

Demi's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"

Nobody had told the girl Xander had died.

Caldwell put a hand to Demi's shoulder. "Where can we go?"

"My parents' house."

Demi's parents' house was a modest sixties bungalow on a quiet street on the outskirts of the town.

The Family Liaison Officer got out of a car and headed over.

Cullen wound down the window. "PC Rowley?"

"Aye." She nodded in the back and spoke in a low voice. "How is she?"

"She's been silent all the way, just staring out of the window."

Rowley shook her head. "This sounds like a total fuck up."

"I think you're right." Cullen looked in the rear view at Demi, hand clasped to her face. "The boy's parents were told but nobody's seen fit to tell her. She's pretty shell-shocked."

"How do you think you'd feel if you'd just been given that news?"

"We need to ask her a few questions."

Rowley tutted. "As ever. Her parents are on their way home. They both work in Edinburgh. Give me five minutes to get her inside and settled, then we'll see if you can speak to her. I'll stop the interview if she is reacting adversely. Okay?"

"Fine."

Rowley's face changed, a different mask being applied.

Cullen waited, watching her gently cajole Demi into leaving the car and heading inside. "Why didn't I think it weird that Demi was at work?"

"It's not just you, Scott. Bit of a fuck up indeed."

"Wonder whose balls will get toasted for this?"

"Yours, no doubt."

Cullen spent requested five minutes trying to figure out what the hell he should ask. This was becoming a clusterfuck. "Let's go."

Caldwell led him inside. "What are we looking for here?"

"Just need to get some background, nothing too aggressive."

"Sure you can manage that?"

"You lead then."

"I might just do that."

The front door was unlocked, so they walked through to the living room.

Rowley sat with Demi, hands clasped around a red can of Coke.

Cullen sat on the sofa opposite next to Caldwell.

Rowley put her hand on Demi's shoulder. "Demi these detectives want to speak to you about your boyfriend, okay?"

Demi shrugged Rowley's hand away. "I know who they are. They told me about Xander."

Rowley sat back. "Are you happy for them to ask questions?"

Demi nodded. "Shoot."

Caldwell sat forward on the settee. "So you're engaged?"

Demi held up her left hand, her ring finger raised up to show the golden ring with a small diamond. "We are." She eased the ring off. "Were."

"But you didn't live together?"

Demi shook her head, her ponytail dancing around. "No, we didn't. We'd been talking about it, but we didn't get round to it. Xander was actually quite funny about it. Didn't want to jinx anything. His parents' marriage was a mess and he didn't want to repeat that. He wanted things kept pure, not to move in together until we were married."

"Was Xander religious?"

Demi shrugged. "In a way, yes. The only church he went to was Ibrox stadium but he had certain ideas, that's for sure."

Cullen frowned at his notebook. Where did the boy develop this religious purity? It certainly wasn't from his parents. Then again, he was the product of a severely broken home. Most football fans were superstitious - sitting in the same seat on the coach on match day, wearing the same shoes - and it wasn't much of a stretch to believe that luck was a factor in marriage. Rangers fans weren't fanatical about their Protestantism, unlike their Celtic counterparts and the Catholic faith, the sectarian divide being more of a tribal thing than a point of ecclesiastical principle. Gangs. Us versus them.