Boy wasn't smiling, though, I can tell you that."
"The man's name is Steven McCoull. He died later that night." Cullen pocketed his phone, watching Billy for a reaction. Nothing. "Tell us about you picking him up."
Billy shrugged. "Like I said, I just picked the boy up on the street. George Street. Outside Tigerlily's."
Cullen frowned. That was a few doors down from where he expected. "Not from the Living Room?"
"No. Tigerlily's."
"What time was this?"
"Just a sec." Billy stabbed a finger at his phone, before swiping and prodding. "Eight twelve p.m. according to our system."
Cullen checked Buxton was making notes. "Was he alone?"
"Nope."
"Who was he with?"
"See, that's the thing. I didn't get a great look at the boy he was with."
"Boy?"
"Aye. It was definitely a bloke, like."
"An adult?"
"Aye."
"Did you speak to either of them before they got in?"
"For the third time, the lad in your photo flagged us down from across the road. I had to pull across the street to get them. Asked for Juniper Green, Woodhall Millbrae. Nice bit there, down by the river and that. Boy'd clearly had a few ales, shall we say."
"But you didn't speak to his companion?"
"No." Billy shook his head. "The boy he was with sat right behind us. This McCoull guy sat diagonal from him, so I got a good look at him."
"But not who he was with?"
"Right, aye."
"What did you see of him?"
"Just his back."
"Not his head?"
"Nope. Had one of them parka jackets on. Couldn't see anything, I'm afraid."
"Okay." Cullen took a moment to think it through - McCoull had left the bar in a hurry and got picked up just minutes later with company. What happened in that time? "Was the street busy?"
"Not bad. Usual. People milling about. Not like three a.m. busy, nothing like that."
"Okay." Cullen got to his feet, handing him a business card. "Give me a call the second you recall anything about this man, okay?"
"Sure thing, son."
Chapter 27
"That was a complete waste of time." Buxton slumped at the desk, the floor around them completely empty. "Total waste of time."
"Not really." Cullen hung his suit jacket on the back of his chair. "We found out McCoull definitely met someone on George Street."
"I suppose." Buxton nodded. "That CCTV still hasn't turned up yet."
"Shite." Cullen sat, hands clamping his legs. "Can you chase them up?"
"I'll see what I can do. It's Christmas Day, remember."
"You don't need to remind me. At least Crystal's not about." Cullen picked up Caldwell's report and started leafing through it - it pertained to McCoull's financial arrangements. He glanced over at Buxton. "Did you check on any crimes in McCoull's street?"
"Thought Angela was doing that?"
"Doesn't look like she got round to it."
"Fine, boss." Buxton jotted a note down. "Another on the long list of stupid tasks for me to do."
"Cheers."
Buxton held his gaze for a few seconds before glancing away. "You know you can talk about the drinking with me, right?"
Cullen sighed. Buxton was a good lad for drinking with but talking about anything other than football or the job? Fuck it. "Sharon reckons I should cut down."
"And?"
"Don't know if I can face this without drinking."
"There's a difference between cutting down and getting absolutely fucked every time you go for just the one. It's never just the one, though, is it?"
"You can talk."
"Lashing out there. Classy. It's true, mate."
Cullen scowled at him. "I'm not like that, am I?"
"Yeah, you are."
"Shite."
"Is this about the baby you guys lost?"
Cullen blinked. Grit in his eye. "It might be."
"You've never talked to anyone about it, have you?"
Cullen sighed. "Who's there to talk to?"
"You've got a counsellor."
"Yeah, I've not seen him for a while, though."
"Maybe you should."
"Do you honestly think I drink too much?"
"Maybe."
"Bloody hell." Cullen swallowed. Maybe there was something in it. "So, do you think I should cut down?"
"Probably."
"I'll think about it."
"Busy, are we?" Methven popped his head
"The man's name is Steven McCoull. He died later that night." Cullen pocketed his phone, watching Billy for a reaction. Nothing. "Tell us about you picking him up."
Billy shrugged. "Like I said, I just picked the boy up on the street. George Street. Outside Tigerlily's."
Cullen frowned. That was a few doors down from where he expected. "Not from the Living Room?"
"No. Tigerlily's."
"What time was this?"
"Just a sec." Billy stabbed a finger at his phone, before swiping and prodding. "Eight twelve p.m. according to our system."
Cullen checked Buxton was making notes. "Was he alone?"
"Nope."
"Who was he with?"
"See, that's the thing. I didn't get a great look at the boy he was with."
"Boy?"
"Aye. It was definitely a bloke, like."
"An adult?"
"Aye."
"Did you speak to either of them before they got in?"
"For the third time, the lad in your photo flagged us down from across the road. I had to pull across the street to get them. Asked for Juniper Green, Woodhall Millbrae. Nice bit there, down by the river and that. Boy'd clearly had a few ales, shall we say."
"But you didn't speak to his companion?"
"No." Billy shook his head. "The boy he was with sat right behind us. This McCoull guy sat diagonal from him, so I got a good look at him."
"But not who he was with?"
"Right, aye."
"What did you see of him?"
"Just his back."
"Not his head?"
"Nope. Had one of them parka jackets on. Couldn't see anything, I'm afraid."
"Okay." Cullen took a moment to think it through - McCoull had left the bar in a hurry and got picked up just minutes later with company. What happened in that time? "Was the street busy?"
"Not bad. Usual. People milling about. Not like three a.m. busy, nothing like that."
"Okay." Cullen got to his feet, handing him a business card. "Give me a call the second you recall anything about this man, okay?"
"Sure thing, son."
Chapter 27
"That was a complete waste of time." Buxton slumped at the desk, the floor around them completely empty. "Total waste of time."
"Not really." Cullen hung his suit jacket on the back of his chair. "We found out McCoull definitely met someone on George Street."
"I suppose." Buxton nodded. "That CCTV still hasn't turned up yet."
"Shite." Cullen sat, hands clamping his legs. "Can you chase them up?"
"I'll see what I can do. It's Christmas Day, remember."
"You don't need to remind me. At least Crystal's not about." Cullen picked up Caldwell's report and started leafing through it - it pertained to McCoull's financial arrangements. He glanced over at Buxton. "Did you check on any crimes in McCoull's street?"
"Thought Angela was doing that?"
"Doesn't look like she got round to it."
"Fine, boss." Buxton jotted a note down. "Another on the long list of stupid tasks for me to do."
"Cheers."
Buxton held his gaze for a few seconds before glancing away. "You know you can talk about the drinking with me, right?"
Cullen sighed. Buxton was a good lad for drinking with but talking about anything other than football or the job? Fuck it. "Sharon reckons I should cut down."
"And?"
"Don't know if I can face this without drinking."
"There's a difference between cutting down and getting absolutely fucked every time you go for just the one. It's never just the one, though, is it?"
"You can talk."
"Lashing out there. Classy. It's true, mate."
Cullen scowled at him. "I'm not like that, am I?"
"Yeah, you are."
"Shite."
"Is this about the baby you guys lost?"
Cullen blinked. Grit in his eye. "It might be."
"You've never talked to anyone about it, have you?"
Cullen sighed. "Who's there to talk to?"
"You've got a counsellor."
"Yeah, I've not seen him for a while, though."
"Maybe you should."
"Do you honestly think I drink too much?"
"Maybe."
"Bloody hell." Cullen swallowed. Maybe there was something in it. "So, do you think I should cut down?"
"Probably."
"I'll think about it."
"Busy, are we?" Methven popped his head
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