Ghost in the Machine (5 page)

This hooked Cullen. "What do you mean by that?"

"There was all that stuff with Kim. I don't really want to go into it now. I'm happy to talk to you if you need a statement but it's not something I want to discuss."

Cullen was sorely tempted to progress it further.

"And you haven't heard from her since Wednesday?" said Miller.

"No," said Debi. "It would be at least a week before that, maybe ten days. I mean, I could check."

Miller handed her a card. "If you could. Is there anyone else we should speak to who might have heard from her?"

Debi shrugged. "Just Amy or Rob."

"Okay, thanks." Cullen looked over at Miller. "Anything else from you?"

"No, that's more than enough to be going on with for now."

They got up and went to the door.
 

"If there's anything you want to add, just give either of us a call," said Cullen.

He led them back out to George Square, an old guy with grey dreadlocks cycling past as they stepped onto the cobbles.

"She was a right minger," said Miller.

Cullen raised an eyebrow - he wanted to wind Miller up. "I don't know. She had a nice nerdy look about her."

Miller laughed. "See, you are a dirty bastard."

Cullen took out his phone and called Rob Thomson again. Same result - voicemail. He took a deep breath.

"We're going to see Rob Thomson."

Cullen waited in the Alba Bank reception area, checking his watch for the umpteenth time, itching closer to calling Thomson's mobile again.
 

The businessman on the sofa opposite had clearly overheard Cullen's conversation with the receptionist and seemed wary. After a flurry of phone calls, she had managed to track Thomson down. Cullen had sensed reluctance, but the mention of the word 'police' was enough.
 

Miller was reading the sports pages of
The Edinburgh Argus
, muttering to himself. "We'll get relegated at this rate and the season's not even started." He folded the newspaper and tossed it onto the coffee table. "Fuck's sake, man." He snorted, rubbed his nose then looked over at Cullen. "Turnbull needs to get his act together."

Cullen frowned at him. "In what way?"
 

"Getting me made a proper DC. I'm not waiting around forever."

"Do you think you're ready for it?"

"Do you think I'm not?"

Cullen smiled. "Bain's got a point. You are a cocky wee bastard."

Miller screwed his face up then looked away. "The gaffer's got it in for me."

"You think?"

"Aye." Miller sighed. "He doesn't like us. No idea what I've done. Have to keep going to Turnbull to get stuff sorted out."

"That might be what pisses Bain off."

Miller turned to another paper.
 

Cullen picked up a leaflet from the stack on the table, which told him everything he already knew about the company. Alba Bank was Scotland's third biggest bank, the only one not to over-reach itself before the credit crunch hit. Cullen's flatmate, Tom, worked for them, which meant he knew a few tales the leaflets didn't mention.

Cullen put it back and looked around the reception area. The building itself was impressive, an ultra-modern construction in steel and glass, replacing the previous eyesore atop the St James Centre. The Alba pyramid pierced the skyline directly above where Cullen and Miller sat and was visible all across the city centre. It made Cullen feel like he was living in the future.
 

"DC Cullen?"

Cullen looked up at Rob Thomson and was immediately surprised by the size of him. He was a lot bigger than Cullen imagined from Amy's description - tall and muscular, shaven head and could have been anything from twenty-five to thirty-five. He wore a pinstripe suit, a fake tan and a fake smile.
 

Thomson introduced himself. Cullen shook his hand then introduced Miller, who nodded before wiping his nose.

"Can we do this in my office?" said Thomson.

"Fine," said Cullen.

Thomson emitted a long sigh as he signed them in, before leading them down the left-most corridor, strutting around like he owned the place. They passed tables full of people mid-meeting, Cullen thinking the place was more like a Parisian terrace than an office. It was drowning in light, flooding down from the glass of the pyramid. Thomson stopped at a security door just by a café and swiped with his badge before proceeding down another long corridor, an open plan area visible through the glass wall.
 

Miller practically ricked his neck looking around at the girls dressed like they were heading to a club rather than work.

At the end of the corridor Thomson led them into an office with his name on the door, plus his job title "Programme Manager, IT Services".

The room was lavishly decorated with expensive designer furniture and lighting. There was a single internal window, which looked back to the corridor, and the walls were filled with artworks and a framed Rangers shirt.

"Have a seat." Thomson sat at the desk, which was cluttered with empty coffee cups and bottles of mineral water. He took a Blackberry from his jacket pocket, setting it beside his laptop. He leant back and crossed his legs.

Cullen and Miller sat in the two armchairs facing the desk.

"You're a difficult man to get hold of." Cullen pointed to the Blackberry. "I've called you a few times."

"I'm a busy man, Constable. I've got a project implementing at the weekend. It's been non-stop all day." Thomson picked up the Blackberry and started fiddling with it. "How can I help?"

"I need you to answer a few questions about your ex-wife, Caroline Adamson. We're trying to trace her current location."

Thomson frowned. "Has something happened to her?"

"She's been reported missing," said Cullen.

Thomson leaned forward. "Is Jack okay?"

"Your son's with a friend of Ms Adamson's, Amy Cousens. I believe she's tried calling you."

Thomson sat back in his chair. "I don't have the time to listen to all my voicemails." His eyes darted back to Cullen. "Hang on - is she saying I've abducted Caroline?"

"Have you?"

Thomson laughed nervously. "Would I say so if I had?"
 

"This is a serious investigation." Cullen sat forward in his chair. "I can't stress strongly enough the magnitude of the situation. It's your duty to divulge any information that could help us track down your ex-wife."

"I'd say if I knew where she was," said Thomson, "but I've not heard from her in weeks. And that's the truth."

Cullen stabbed his pen into his notebook. "Where were you on Wednesday evening?"

"What's Wednesday got to do with anything?"

"That's when Caroline disappeared."

Thomson ran his hand across the stubble on his head. "I was in work till eight."

"Is there anyone who can corroborate that?"

"I left with Kim."

Cullen recalled Amy Cousens mentioning Thomson had an affair with a Kim. "Can I have her full name?"

Thomson dropped his Blackberry on the desk. "It's Kimberley Milne."

"Can I ask what you did after you left for the evening?"

"We went for a pizza down Leith Walk," said Thomson. "Very nice it was indeed."

"And do you have a receipt for this meal?"

"I only keep work receipts," said Thomson.

"I see," said Cullen. "And this Kim Milne is a colleague?"

"She was. She's my partner now. They separated us when we got together."

"Was Kim Milne the cause of your marriage breaking up?"

Thomson sat forward in his chair. "What's that got to do with anything?"

"I'm trying to put together a picture of your ex-wife's life," said Cullen. "It might help to track her down before some harm comes to her. She's already been missing since Wednesday evening, so time is of the essence. Any assistance you can give us would be appreciated."

Thomson rubbed his head again. "Okay. I started seeing Kim before me and Caroline divorced, that's true."

"And you worked together?"

"That's right." Thomson nodded. "I had to come clean to the powers that be and we got split up at work. Kim's in a different division now. I'm in IT, she's in Corporate Banking."

"How would you describe your relationship with your ex-wife?"

Thomson leaned back in his chair. "Cordial." He looked away. "I pick my wee boy up every second Saturday. I see Caroline when I pick him up and drop him off. That's it. Supposed to be picking him up tomorrow, in fact." He picked up the bottle of water from his desk and took a drink. "I've had absolutely nothing to do with Caroline's life since before our divorce."

"And you didn't think it suspicious she didn't get in touch regarding arrangements for tomorrow?"

Thomson just shrugged.

Cullen was becoming irritated by the man. "Mr Thomson, I'm sure you'll appreciate Ms Adamson has disappeared in suspicious circumstances and we're keen to track down anyone who might wish to cause her harm."

Thomson's face flushed red. "Now wait a minute here." He stabbed his finger at Cullen. "If you think I did anything, you should be arresting me."

"Is that an admission of guilt?"

"No, it's bloody not." Thomson checked his watch. "I need you to leave. I've got a meeting I have to dial into."

"Is there anybody you could imagine would wish to cause your ex-wife harm in any way?" said Cullen.

"No." Thomson reached over to unlock his laptop.

"Is there anyone else who might be able to assist us?" said Cullen.

Thomson thought about it as he logged in to his laptop. "Amy or Debi," he said, after a pause. "Maybe Steve Allen. Her parents."

Cullen got to his feet. "Thank you for your time."

Thomson looked relieved. "If there's anything else, just let me know."

Cullen put his card on Thomson's desk. "Just one thing. We'll need to get in touch with Ms Milne to get a statement to cover your whereabouts on Wednesday evening. Can you give us her details?"

The colour drained from Thomson's face.

Cullen pulled in on East London Street. He pointed up. "Nice flat."

Miller nodded. "Bit snooty here."

"This is too good for you, Keith. This is the second rung of the property ladder for Edinburgh's professional classes."

"Quite happy with Easter Road, thank you very much." Miller undid his seatbelt. "Bit of a prick that boy."

"Not the nicest, was he?" Cullen didn't get a good feeling from Rob Thomson and his sheer arrogance, but he was trying not to let it prejudice him. "Can you take the statement here? I'll ask the questions, but I want you to write everything down and read it back to her and get it signed."

"Aye, primary school stuff," said Miller. "I'm not as useless as Bain makes out."

They got out of the car and crossed the road, Cullen getting them buzzed up to the second floor flat.

Kim Milne met them in the stairwell.

Cullen clocked Miller checking her out - long blonde hair, short skirt and orange skin.

Cullen introduced them. "Your partner, Rob Thomson, told us you'd be working from home today. We need to ask you some questions in relation to the apparent disappearance of his ex-wife."

Kim put a hand to her mouth. "Oh my God." She bit her lip. "I'd better see Jenny out."

They went inside the expensively decorated flat - dark wooden furniture, cream walls, stripped floors - leading them into the kitchen.

A carbon copy of Kim stood there, slightly different face and wearing thick-rimmed glasses.

"I need to help the police," said Kim to Jenny.

"I'm happy to stay if you need me," said Jenny.

Cullen didn't want to leave anything to chance. "Can I take your name?"

"Jenny Scott."

"Jenny's going travelling to Thailand," said Kim. "We were out last night and she left her purse in the restaurant. Luckily, I'd picked it up thinking it was mine."

"Was Mr Thomson with you?" said Cullen.

Kim exchanged a look with Jenny. "No, it was a girl's night out."

"I see." Cullen handed Jenny one of his cards. "Can I take a mobile number in case I need to contact you again?"

Jenny shared a look with Kim. "I'm leaving for Thailand tonight."

"I'd still like to make sure I can get in contact with you," said Cullen. "I don't want to overlook anything in this case."

Jenny relented and he scribbled her number in his notebook. She looked at Kim. "I'll be off, then."

"I'll just show her out," said Kim.

They left the room and Cullen could hear the front door opening.

"Wish I could work from home when I had a hangover," said Miller.

"You'd never be in the station, though."

Miller laughed. "You can talk." He pointed towards the door. "Tasty bit of skirt. You were pretty swift there, getting her mate's phone number."

Cullen smiled reluctantly. "That's in case this alibi falls apart and I need to retrace both of Kim and Rob's steps."

Miller saluted. "You're the boss."

Cullen looked around the kitchen. It was in dire need of modernisation, totally at odds with the other bits of the flat they'd seen. It had some tired melamine door fronts and a laminated wood worktop curling up at the edges. The counter was festooned with gadgets and a range of high-end pots and pans hung from the ceiling.

A laptop sat on the kitchen table, the screen open at Schoolbook, an iPhone and a Blackberry next to it. There were two coffee mugs on the table.

The front door closed and Kim returned. "Sorry about that. Can I get you a coffee?"

"We're fine." Cullen pointed at the laptop. "I see you're working hard here."

Kim laughed. "Aye, I'm addicted to Schoolbook. I'm on it all the time, on my phone, on my laptop."

"I'm on there too," said Cullen.

They sat around the table, Kim at one end, Miller and Cullen at the other.

"As I mentioned, we're investigating the disappearance of your partner's ex-wife," said Cullen.

Kim rubbed her hands together slowly. "How can I help?"

"Caroline went missing at some time on Wednesday evening," said Cullen. "It would appear she went on a date with a man and didn't return to her flat or collect her son."