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is," said Cullen. "Who am I speaking to?"
    "To whom ."
    Cullen scowled - who was this?
    "Sorry, force of habit. It's David Johnson. Just returning your call."
    Cullen struggled to recall the name before it clicked. He pulled out the list of names. "Thanks for calling me back, Mr Johnson."
    "I wondered when someone was going to ring about Jimi," said Johnson.
    "Jimi?"
    "Yes, James Strang," said Johnson. "I take it his body has turned up?"
    "We're not sure," said Cullen.
    "I'll take a wild guess and say it was wearing a Jeff Buckley t-shirt."

CHAPTER 13

    Cullen stopped for a sandwich on the way, eating as he hurried to Leith Walk station. He was slightly out of breath by the time he found the interview room Buxton had secured, one of the more presentable in the public section of the station, usually reserved for grieving family members.
    Cullen pointed to the door. "Is he in there?"
    "He is, yeah," said Buxton. "And he reckons it's this Strang geezer?"
    Cullen nodded, gulping down air. "Said he was wearing a Jeff Buckley t-shirt. Don't know why that wasn't in the MisPer report."
    Buxton shrugged. "You saw how many of them there were. Hard to get too excited about them, I suppose."
    "I hope it's not you who did the report back in the day," said Cullen. "It was your patch, right?"
    "It wasn't me. Trust me, mate. I'd remember." Buxton pointed at the door. "How do you want to run this?"
    Cullen thought it over for a few seconds. "Let's just play it by ear. I don't think he's done anything dodgy, yet. He was a bit of a pedantic arse on the phone, though. Pulled me up for not saying 'to whom'."
    "Schoolboy error," said Buxton.
    "Aye," said Cullen. "Public schoolboy error."
    "Good one," said Buxton.
    "They didn't teach grammar at Dalhousie High," said Cullen, opening the door. "Come on."
    He sat at the table before starting the interview, introducing himself and Buxton. A uniformed officer stood by the door, looking bored.
    "Do I need a lawyer?" said Johnson. He was tall and athletic, much like Methven, though he looked a lot younger despite moderate hair loss.
    "We're interviewing you to confirm it's Mr Strang we've found," said Cullen. "If at any point we deem you to be a suspect, we will pause the interview to allow you to consult a lawyer. For the record, Mr Johnson, you're not a suspect at this moment in time."
    Johnson looked more nervous than he had sounded on the phone. "Okay."
    "Can you recount the information you gave me earlier, please?" said Cullen.
    Johnson cleared his throat. "Certainly," he said, a croak still present. "When you called me I instinctively knew it would be about Jimi."
    "And, again, for the record," said Cullen, "Jimi would be James Strang?"
    "Correct," said Johnson. "Everybody knew him as Jimi, though, like Jimi Hendrix. Of course, he got his stage name from Gimme Danger by The Stooges." He coughed. "I'm rambling, apologies."
    "You don't appear the sort of person to be in a band influenced by Iggy Pop," said Buxton.
    Johnson shrugged. "I love loud music. It's always the quiet ones you've got to watch out for, isn't that right?" He laughed, before tugging at the collar of his shirt, perhaps realising he shouldn't be joking. "Jimi asked me to play bass guitar in The Invisibles."
    "Why you?" said Cullen. "You don't seem like a rock 'n' roller."
    Johnson touched the tips of his fingers together. "Jimi was obsessed with image. Apparently, I fit the bill. We're all the same height. I think there was a quote attributed to Morrissey regarding Franz Ferdinand all being the same height, which made them look like a gang on stage. That's something Jimi clung to."
    He smiled. "I'm a classically-trained pianist, though I'd given that up by university. I picked the bass up quickly, of course. There's also the fact I was studying English Literature and could help Jimi with some of his lyrics. He was very talented, both in terms of music and words - such incredible imagery - but he would sometimes struggle with the