Read Windchill for Free Online Page A

for a few seconds, as he swallowed. "I've never been one to let grief get in my way. I lost my mother as a boy and my father when I was sixteen."
    Cullen didn't quite buy it. "So let me get this straight. You stayed in business with Mr McCoull, even though you slept with his wife?"
    "You know about that then?" Young rolled his eyes. "Steven and I managed to sort out our differences. Evelyn was another matter. I think he was looking for any excuse to get out of their marriage. She gave him an easy out."
    "Any idea why?"
    "Just the way he was." Young rubbed his trouser legs, the khaki cargo pants rolling up to reveal his ankles. "Steven was very loyal to his friends. Didn't really have the best of marriages, shall we say."
    "And yet you're still married?"
    "I am. Took a long time to regain my wife's trust."
    "You still keep in touch with Mrs McCoull?"
    "From time to time." Young raised a finger. "There's nothing going on any more, though. My wife threatened my testicles."
    "Do you know if Mr McCoull was seeing anyone recently?"
    "No. He swore off women after his divorce."
    Cullen frowned. Swore off women? He was last seen entering his house with a man. "What about men?"
    "Steven? Gay?" Young laughed. "No chance."
    Cullen made a note of it. Not quite buying it either.
    Buxton leaned forward in his chair, flicking through his notebook. "What about Donald Ingram?"
    "Ah, Donald." Young sucked his teeth. "Mr Ingram was the president before me. I was company sec at the time. He sold up here and shipped out to Nerja couple of years back. Me and a couple of boys at the club were going to head out there, but we've never got round to it."
    "Was Mr McCoull one of them?"
    "He was, aye." Young shook his head, his face softening as his eyes flickered. "I can't believe Steven's dead. I just can't."
    "The body has been confirmed as that of Mr McCoull. There was a metal pin in his leg."
    "I only spoke to him yesterday. He dropped off presents for my boys."
    "When was this?"
    "About five. Stopped in for a wee dram." Young rubbed his eye. "He was going out drinking in town with some lads from the club afterwards."
    "Did Mr McCoull like a drink?"
    "And then some. If Steven had a pint, he'd be out till after midnight."
    Cullen frowned. Yet more leads coming out of nowhere. "Can I have any names?"
    Young shrugged. "Steven just mentioned Robert. That'd be Robert Heald. He's the rugby club captain."
    "Do you know where were they going?"
    "I don't, I'm afraid. George Street, presumably."
    "And you weren't with them?"
    "No, I wasn't. Chance would be a fine thing these days."
    "Where were you?"
    "I swear, I didn't murder Steven."
    "All the same."
    "Myself and my family were with friends in Linlithgow. We left here just after Steven was in."
    "We'll need their names, sir."
    "Of course." Young scowled as he picked up a phone from the desk nearest him. He wrote a phone number on a Post-It note. "This is their number. Catherine and Brian Hudson. Do you need credit card receipts from the petrol station, too?"
    "This'll do for now." Cullen pocketed the note.
    Young got to his feet. "Now, is there anything else?"
    "No, I think we're good."

Chapter 10

    Robert Heald lived at the top of the hill in Juniper Green overlooking Woodhall Millbrae.
    Cullen pressed the bell and turned around to look south across the rooftops, including McCoull's partially blackened slates and the scaffolding further down the street. To his left was the drone of the City Bypass, the stench of car fumes heightened by the dry winter air.
    He chuckled. "It's like the Billy Goats Gruff down there."
    Buxton looked up from his phone. "What are you talking about?"
    "The troll lived under a bridge, right?" Cullen waved his hand at the dual carriageway as it sprawled across the valley over the river. "Just like that one."
    The door opened. A bald man with a protruding belly stood there, arms folded. Combat trousers, rugby shirt, pink slippers. "Yes?"
    "Robert Heald?"
    "That's me."
    "DCs Cullen