traveller sort," said Strachan.
They were back in the canteen, Strachan, Cullen and Caldwell.
"He used to head off somewhere every weekend," continued Strachan, "up to Aviemore, down to Northumberland, off to the islands off the West coast. There were a couple of times when we didn't see him at the start of the week. He'd pitch up on a Tuesday lunchtime and then just get on with it, as if he'd been here all that time. He would put in a solid shift - used to be caught right up by the end of day on a Thursday if he was late in at the start."
"So why did he get reported missing?" asked Cullen.
"I think it was actually the landlady at the B&B he was staying at in Garleton that reported him," said Strachan. "He used to cycle down here every day, you know, even in the depths of winter - he said it kept him fit. He hadn't turned up here on the Wednesday morning, so I gave her a phone to see if he was ill or something. She hadn't seen him either - he hadn't come back from his weekend adventuring and he'd always be home by a Tuesday. She'd been into the police station in Garleton that morning as it turned out, to see if he'd been in an accident or what have you. She wasn't used to him being away that long. He wasn't one for giving notice, mind, but even so."
"Do you have her name?" asked Cullen.
"I could try and look it out," said Strachan.
"So, in your opinion, could it be Paddy that's in that barrel?" asked Cullen.
"It could be, aye," said Strachan. "Seems almost likely, in fact." He suddenly frowned. "Thing is, he was a drinker, you know. Drinking in pubs tends to be the number one cause of aggro in my book. He was a regular in the Tanner's Arms up in Garleton."
Cullen jotted it down.
"You know how it is with these places," said Strachan, "there's always a wee bit of bother, but it was always forgotten about by the next evening."
"What about his past in Ireland?" he asked. "Any angry spouses or children?"
"Paddy always told lovely stories about his past," said Strachan. "He had never married or anything like that. Certainly not that he'd told us."
"Was there anyone here that he'd been involved with?" asked Cullen.
"Just Elspeth."
"Elspeth McLeish?"
Strachan nodded. "You've heard then?"
"I'm afraid not," said Cullen. "I just asked to speak to the current receptionist's predecessor, that's all."
Strachan hesitated for a few moments. "Well, Paddy'd had a thing with her," he said. "They'd been seeing each other for a good few months. They both liked a drink, so I don't think it was a particularly healthy relationship."
"Was Ms McLeish involved with anyone else?" asked Cullen.
"She always had a few guys on the go," said Strachan. "She never made a secret of it. Whether any of them would have wanted to kill Paddy, well you'd need to ask them that. I just know that there were some, that's all."
Cullen could see this case just exploding - hunting down ex-flames of an ex-receptionist for months. He didn't know what else to ask about Paddy - he suspected that Strachan could win Mastermind with 'the life and times of Paddy Kavanagh' as his specialist subject, and yet there really wasn't much to go on. If it was Paddy in the barrel, then the mystery of who killed him would be next to impossible. Ghoulish as it was, Cullen hoped that it was Iain Crombie in there - they were not exactly drowning in leads and suspects, but for Iain they at least had something to go on.
"Tell me about your relationship with Iain Crombie," said Cullen.
Strachan flinched slightly. He took a few seconds to compose himself. "Iain was a good lad," he said. "I knew him since he was yay high." He held his hand out at the approximate height of a seven or eight year old child. "I taught him everything he knew about whisky."
"So you don't think it's him in the barrel?" asked Cullen.
"I do not," said Strachan. "I think he's still out there."
"Any reason why?"
"I just do." Strachan rubbed his nose. "Iain left in strange circumstances, I'll give
They were back in the canteen, Strachan, Cullen and Caldwell.
"He used to head off somewhere every weekend," continued Strachan, "up to Aviemore, down to Northumberland, off to the islands off the West coast. There were a couple of times when we didn't see him at the start of the week. He'd pitch up on a Tuesday lunchtime and then just get on with it, as if he'd been here all that time. He would put in a solid shift - used to be caught right up by the end of day on a Thursday if he was late in at the start."
"So why did he get reported missing?" asked Cullen.
"I think it was actually the landlady at the B&B he was staying at in Garleton that reported him," said Strachan. "He used to cycle down here every day, you know, even in the depths of winter - he said it kept him fit. He hadn't turned up here on the Wednesday morning, so I gave her a phone to see if he was ill or something. She hadn't seen him either - he hadn't come back from his weekend adventuring and he'd always be home by a Tuesday. She'd been into the police station in Garleton that morning as it turned out, to see if he'd been in an accident or what have you. She wasn't used to him being away that long. He wasn't one for giving notice, mind, but even so."
"Do you have her name?" asked Cullen.
"I could try and look it out," said Strachan.
"So, in your opinion, could it be Paddy that's in that barrel?" asked Cullen.
"It could be, aye," said Strachan. "Seems almost likely, in fact." He suddenly frowned. "Thing is, he was a drinker, you know. Drinking in pubs tends to be the number one cause of aggro in my book. He was a regular in the Tanner's Arms up in Garleton."
Cullen jotted it down.
"You know how it is with these places," said Strachan, "there's always a wee bit of bother, but it was always forgotten about by the next evening."
"What about his past in Ireland?" he asked. "Any angry spouses or children?"
"Paddy always told lovely stories about his past," said Strachan. "He had never married or anything like that. Certainly not that he'd told us."
"Was there anyone here that he'd been involved with?" asked Cullen.
"Just Elspeth."
"Elspeth McLeish?"
Strachan nodded. "You've heard then?"
"I'm afraid not," said Cullen. "I just asked to speak to the current receptionist's predecessor, that's all."
Strachan hesitated for a few moments. "Well, Paddy'd had a thing with her," he said. "They'd been seeing each other for a good few months. They both liked a drink, so I don't think it was a particularly healthy relationship."
"Was Ms McLeish involved with anyone else?" asked Cullen.
"She always had a few guys on the go," said Strachan. "She never made a secret of it. Whether any of them would have wanted to kill Paddy, well you'd need to ask them that. I just know that there were some, that's all."
Cullen could see this case just exploding - hunting down ex-flames of an ex-receptionist for months. He didn't know what else to ask about Paddy - he suspected that Strachan could win Mastermind with 'the life and times of Paddy Kavanagh' as his specialist subject, and yet there really wasn't much to go on. If it was Paddy in the barrel, then the mystery of who killed him would be next to impossible. Ghoulish as it was, Cullen hoped that it was Iain Crombie in there - they were not exactly drowning in leads and suspects, but for Iain they at least had something to go on.
"Tell me about your relationship with Iain Crombie," said Cullen.
Strachan flinched slightly. He took a few seconds to compose himself. "Iain was a good lad," he said. "I knew him since he was yay high." He held his hand out at the approximate height of a seven or eight year old child. "I taught him everything he knew about whisky."
"So you don't think it's him in the barrel?" asked Cullen.
"I do not," said Strachan. "I think he's still out there."
"Any reason why?"
"I just do." Strachan rubbed his nose. "Iain left in strange circumstances, I'll give
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