Free Dyed in the Wool by Ed James

it. I'm just tired from the commute. I suppose I was expecting to get a bit more of a lead role in this. So far, I've helped Jobsworth put the case into HOLMES then helped you speak to some people in a bank. That's hardly exciting, is it?"
    "And you call me a princess?"
    She laughed. "Well, we're here. Do you want me to lead?"
    "Aye, go on."
    Cullen got out and led them across the car park, half empty in the October late afternoon sunshine. They walked through the main entrance, past Wetherspoon's, the curry house and Pizza Express. M&S was just ahead on the right.
    Caldwell asked for Demi at the customer service desk.
    They only had to wait thirty seconds before a pretty, if surly, girl approached them, Demi on her badge. "Is it DC Caldwell?"
    Caldwell showed her warrant card. "It is, yes. Is there somewhere private we could go to discuss matters?"
    Demi turned up her lip. "What 'matters'?"
    "Your boyfriend's death?"
    Demi's mouth dropped open. "Are you serious?"
    Nobody had told the girl Xander had died.
    Caldwell put a hand to Demi's shoulder. "Where can we go?"
    "My parents' house."

CHAPTER 12

    Demi's parents' house was a modest sixties bungalow on a quiet street on the outskirts of the town.
    The Family Liaison Officer got out of a car and headed over.
    Cullen wound down the window. "PC Rowley?"
    "Aye." She nodded in the back and spoke in a low voice. "How is she?"
    "She's been silent all the way, just staring out of the window."
    Rowley shook her head. "This sounds like a total fuck up."
    "I think you're right." Cullen looked in the rear view at Demi, hand clasped to her face. "The boy's parents were told but nobody's seen fit to tell her. She's pretty shell-shocked."
    "How do you think you'd feel if you'd just been given that news?"
    "We need to ask her a few questions."
    Rowley tutted. "As ever. Her parents are on their way home. They both work in Edinburgh. Give me five minutes to get her inside and settled, then we'll see if you can speak to her. I'll stop the interview if she is reacting adversely. Okay?"
    "Fine."
    Rowley's face changed, a different mask being applied.
    Cullen waited, watching her gently cajole Demi into leaving the car and heading inside. "Why didn't I think it weird that Demi was at work?"
    "It's not just you, Scott. Bit of a fuck up indeed."
    "Wonder whose balls will get toasted for this?"
    "Yours, no doubt."
    Cullen spent requested five minutes trying to figure out what the hell he should ask. This was becoming a clusterfuck. "Let's go."
    Caldwell led him inside. "What are we looking for here?"
    "Just need to get some background, nothing too aggressive."
    "Sure you can manage that?"
    "You lead then."
    "I might just do that."
    The front door was unlocked, so they walked through to the living room.
    Rowley sat with Demi, hands clasped around a red can of Coke.
    Cullen sat on the sofa opposite next to Caldwell.
    Rowley put her hand on Demi's shoulder. "Demi these detectives want to speak to you about your boyfriend, okay?"
    Demi shrugged Rowley's hand away. "I know who they are. They told me about Xander."
    Rowley sat back. "Are you happy for them to ask questions?"
    Demi nodded. "Shoot."
    Caldwell sat forward on the settee. "So you're engaged?"
    Demi held up her left hand, her ring finger raised up to show the golden ring with a small diamond. "We are." She eased the ring off. "Were."
    "But you didn't live together?"
    Demi shook her head, her ponytail dancing around. "No, we didn't. We'd been talking about it, but we didn't get round to it. Xander was actually quite funny about it. Didn't want to jinx anything. His parents' marriage was a mess and he didn't want to repeat that. He wanted things kept pure, not to move in together until we were married."
    "Was Xander religious?"
    Demi shrugged. "In a way, yes. The only church he went to was Ibrox stadium but he had certain ideas, that's for sure."
    Cullen frowned at his notebook. Where did the boy develop this religious purity? It certainly wasn't