Kingston Bridge

by Ian Todd

  “That’ll show the basturts,” Mackerel chortled. “Right then, Murdina. Who is it that ye’ve goat tucked away somewhere?”

  “Given the concerns regarding the witness’s personal safety and the fact that he is still providing us with information that could lead to the arrests of Inspector Dougan’s killers, I would rather keep that a secret for the time being, sir,” she turned and said tae the assistant chief constable.

  “Ye whit?” Mackerel howled indignantly, as Bison practically doubled up in a fit ae coughing. “Ur you bloody suggesting that nobody in this room kin be trusted tae keep the name confidential?”

  “Given what happened to Sergeant Priestly, I had hoped that my caution would make sense and be welcomed,” Cleopatra appealed tae the assistant chief, as aw eyes in the room focused their attention oan him.

  Silence.

  “Ah must admit, Murdina, this is aw very unusual. However…”

  “This is…is outrageous, so it is!” Mackerel blustered. “In aw ma years in the job, Ah’ve never heard anything so damning against fellow officers.”

  “No, Bob, Ah agree wae Murdina. If she believes that the safety ae the white rabbit could be in jeopardy, and efter whit happened tae Sergeant Priestly, despite the tight security arrangements, then Ah think we need tae allow Murdina tae play it her way.”

  “Well, seeing as it wis her idea tae stash the basturt away up in the Bar-L in the first place, Ah’m no sure, wae aw due respect, Murdina, that you’re the best person tae be responsible fur the witness’s safety,” Mackerel challenged her.

  “Ah’m sorry, Bob, Ah’ve made up ma mind. Murdina’s the officer in charge ae the murder investigation ae this young nurse. It’s her call,” The Assistant Chief said wae finality, as Murdina blew a stream ae grey cigar smoke across the table intae the face ae the heid ae the city’s two murder teams, before he erupted intae a coughing fit and the other two females in the room fought hard no tae burst oot laughing.

  Chapter Twenty Eight

  Edward Wilson hid fought hard tae contain his growing irritation. He’d stood there politely listening, as the manager extolled the mechanical virtues ae the brand new, gleaming two-door 4.2 Sovereign Coupe, that hid been sitting ready and waiting fur him. Aw he wanted wis tae be able tae heid fur the motorway that wid take him back hame tae his spacious garage, tae staun and admire his brand spanking new beauty. He’d wanted tae remind the idiot that the sale hid awready been agreed and that there wisnae any need fur him tae be dancing the hard sell tango. The salesman hid only shut up when he’d pulled oot jist under five grand in cash fae his leather briefcase. Efter that, it hid been plain sailing, or in his case, plain driving, as he heided west. It took a bit ae getting used tae efter his 73 Austin Allegro, the only possession he’d been left wae oan account that he’d been using it fur getting tae his work, efter he’d come hame that night tae discover the removal vans hid been and gone…the bitch. At first he’d thought the sleek beast hid stalled when he couldnae hear the throb ae the 4.2 litre engine increase when he put his fit doon oan the peddle, it wis that quiet. There wis nothing like the smell ae a wee bit ae luxury tae smooth the wrinkles fae a busy man’s brow, he sighed contentedly tae himsel. He’d deliberately ignored the admiring glances fae his fellow road users at the traffic lights and junctions, as he snaked his way oot ae the city, bit inside he wis fair chuffed wae the attention. It wis jist a pity he couldnae use the motor tae get in and oot tae Lanarkshire Hoose. Perhaps efter a year, wance the dust hid settled, he reassured himsel, switching oan the radio. He wondered how Glenda Metcalfe hid goat oan at the meeting? Whitever the identity ae Cleopatra’s white rabbit wis didnae really matter tae him. He’d done his bit, as per the deal wae Wan-bob Broon. He’d made sure that his meeting wae Alan Small, heid ae The Crown’s criminal division in Edinburgh, tied in wae the meeting back in Central. There wid be nae reason fur him tae come under the spotlight when the identity ae whoever it wis hit the fan. She wis the obvious stooge. Clever, keen and desperate tae make a comeback. If challenged oan his decision tae bring her back in tae the fold, he always hid Alan Small tae blame. It hid been Small that hid made the approach tae bring her back in fae the cauld. Of course, he’d raised his doubts, bit no too strongly, that it wis maybe too soon efter The Stalker’s service notebook fiasco and the release ae the young bank robber who’d blasted the two polisman in the bank up in Maryhill. Efter much humming and hawing, he’d allowed himsel tae be persuaded, wae hints ae future promotion oot ae the manky city tae the clean, smokeless streets ae Edinburgh. Her return hid also hid a wee unexpected financial bonus attached tae it. Her removal hid gied him the solution fur shafting the JP investigation she’d been pursuing across in Partick, as well as using her tae get shot ae The McGregors’ two corrupt JPs across in Govan. The two-grand fur that wan, oan tap ae the twenty five he wis getting fur the wee nurse’s trial, wis aw money in the Bank Ae Plenty fur his early retirement in five years’ time. Despite the amount ae business he’d hid wae The Big Man o’er the past sixteen years, he’d never hid much dealings wae Wan-bob Broon or that sidekick ae his. It wis only wance The Big Man hid disappeared across tae Spain that Broon’s path and his hid reconnected. Initially, he’d jist aboot shat himsel when he’d been summoned tae the meeting wae wan ae Broon’s henchmen. It hid taken his guts a month tae settle doon efter he wis telt whit wis wanted.

  “Too risky,” he’d yelped in fright. “I need to speak to Pat in person. I’ll end up in prison.”

  “Naw, ye wullnae. Pat’s still in Spain. It probably won’t go tae trial anyway. Trust me, we’re working oan that wan,” The Gangster hid growled at him. “Ye’ve made a lot ae money aff ae us o’er the years. Wance this is settled, ye’re free fae any mair association. That’s come fae The Big Man himsel, so it his.”

  It hid been that last part that hid convinced him. Free at last. Despite the sleepless nights, he’d eventually come tae terms wae whit hid tae be done. The plan wis brilliant by any standards and there wis very little risk. He’d made sure that any blame wid fall squarely oan his predecessor, David Broderick, who’d hung aboot fur a wee while tae ensure his replacement settled in. It wis only at the point ae transfer, that he wid be held responsible fur any decisions or mistakes. The paper trail wid see tae that. There hid awready been two precedents set, back in 72 and 59, so whit wis a third in the great big scheme ae things? Nothing in life wis fool proof. The main thing fur him wis tae ensure everything hid gone tae plan, which it hid. The coming earthquake wid take care ae itsel, if it ever reached that stage. The resurrection ae Shaun Murphy’s ghost hid been a masterstroke. He’d been reassured that his part in the game plan wid probably never come tae fruition. He’d also been telt that the fifty percent up front and the rest, wance the trial hid been concluded, irrespective ae the result, wid still be his. The way things wur gaun wae the resurrection ae the gangsters body up at Lambhill Cemetery, there wis every chance that Broon and Hastie wid walk well before the trial wis due tae start. The nest egg that he’d built up since that slutty wife ae his hid run aff wae that wee sleekit brother ae his, wis well hidden, beyond the reach ae any robust investigation. While life could always be better, his prospects looked good, he telt himsel, as he glanced in the wing mirror, before sliding oot tae overtake a van, as Royston Road at Hogganfield came intae view in the distance.

  Chapter Twenty Nine

  The place hidnae changed much since the last time she’d darkened its doors. Miss American Diner 1975 wis still loitering behind the coonter wae a fag sticking oot ae her face in her grease-stained yellow Fireball XL5 uniform. She clearly hidnae recognised her, seeing as she hidnae asked fur the money she wis owed fur the drinks the last time, when her and Ronnie hid been sitting growling at each other at the tail end ae the year before. The clientele hidnae improved either, only this time there wur two sleeping drunks in the joint, insteid ae the wan that time. She sat coonting the tables while she waited fur the wee hack tae arrive. She wondered if it wis an American custom t
ae wait until the customers arrived, before the waitress came across and wiped the table clean wae her manky cloth. Oot ae the eighteen tables, she widnae hiv let a scabby cat eat aff any ae them.

  “Ah’ll jist wait until who Ah’m meeting arrives, hen” she’d said tae the wee fat waitress, who’d aboot turned midway between her and the coonter.

  She wisnae sure where tae place her erms withoot them getting soaked by the tea puddles. Ronnie hid been right. The place wis bloody bogging and so wis Miss XL5.

  “Hi. Sorry Ah’m late,” Pearl Campbell gushed, plapping her wee ginger arse doon opposite her. “Er, excuse me, hen, any chance ae a wee wipe o’er here?”

  “Whitever ye dae, don’t order a cookie. Ah’ve lost coont ae the number ae times that fag ash ae hers his drapped aff the end ae that fag intae the jar.”

  “Whit kin Ah get youse, girls?” Miss XL5 asked, wiping the table and hivving tae go o’er it a second time, efter the fresh ash fae her fag landed oan the table between them.

  “A glass ae Irn Bru fur me,” Pearl said, despite the pavement ootside being covered in frost, lifting her fags and lighter oot ae her bag.

  “Same here.”

  “It’s plastic cups…is that okay? They’re the new glasses nooadays, so they ur. Genuine American wans, as well.”

  “Fine,” they baith replied.

  Wilma looked at the journalist. She hidnae changed much fae her last meeting up at the Kings Café, the week leading up tae Christmas. She wis still stylishly dressed. She wondered whit the reaction wid be if she asked her where she bought her clobber fae. She wanted tae jump in there and ask her aw sorts ae questions, bit she knew that wid be a mistake. She also wondered how she’d come by the bruises on her neck and the side ae her face. Wilma hid been roond long enough tae spot the difference between a man’s haun and walking intae the side ae a door.

  “So, where’s the cuffs then?” Pearl asked smiling, lighting up a fag, as the Irn Bru arrived.

  “Eh?”

  “The last time we met, ye said that Ah’d be arrested if Ah ever came near ye again.”

  “Oh that…ach,” she tutted dismissively. “It aw depends oan how well we get oan the night.”

  “Ah must admit Ah wis surprised tae get yer call. It must be important?”

  Aye, she wis a smart wee cookie, so she wis. She wondered why she hidnae spotted that the first time roond up at the Kings Café. She should’ve known she widnae hiv hung aboot. The only problem wis, she wisnae too sure how tae make the approach withoot ending up oan the front page ae The Glesga Echo the morra morning.

  “Oh, er, well. Ah wis jist wondering how ye wur getting oan…nothing in particular.”

  “Inspector…Wilma, if you promise no tae piss aboot, Ah’ll promise tae dae the same. Whit dae ye think?”

  “Whit happened tae yer face and neck? And don’t say ye walked intae the side ae a door,” she said, as the baith ae them smiled.

  “Ah wis attacked by a couple ae yer colleagues.”

  “Eh?”

  “Or rather, bushwhacked.”

  “Bit…”

  “Ah’d jist come fae a public meeting up oan Stirling Road and wis walking doon North Hanover Street towards George Square, when Ah wis dragged intae a lane and beaten up, so Ah wis,” Pearl replied, watching The Inspector closely.

  “Bit…bit ye’ve reported it?”

  “Tae who?”

  “The polis, who else?”

  “Ha! Ha!”

  “Whit’s so funny?”

  “Did ye no hear whit Ah jist said, Inspector? Anyway, furget that. Ah’m sure ye’ve goat other mair pressing things tae discuss wae me. Yer voice oan the phone sounded hesitant.”

  Silence.

  “Pearl, Ah honestly don’t know whit tae say…Ah mean…”

  “Look, whit’s done is done. Ah’m okay. Ah goat a bit ae a fright, that’s aw. The marks oan ma face and neck look worse than whit they ur.”

  “Ah believe that ye’ve been trying tae hiv a meeting wae Glenda Metcalfe. Wid that be right?”

  “The procurator fiscal? Aye, that’s right. Ah think she’s been gieing me a body-serve, so she his.”

  “Ah spoke tae her yesterday.”

  “And?”

  “And ye’ve nae chance ae getting in tae see her.”

  “Oh.”

  “Somewan like you…ye’re too toxic, so ye ur.”

  “Did she tell ye tae tell me that?”

  “Apart fae using the word toxic, aye.”

  “Ah see.”

  “Naw, Ah don’t think ye dae, Pearl. Tae you, everywan is fair game. Even the good people don’t want anything tae dae wae somewan like you, so they don’t.”

  “Good people? Ye mean people like you…the people who done this tae me? They people?” Pearl hit back wae, pulling doon the neckline ae her cardigan, exposing her fingerprint bruised neck. “You know fine well that basturt deliberately murdered that poor wife ae his, yet ye done nothing aboot it when ye hid the chance…”

  “Bit Pricilla Pres…”

  “Don’t fucking sit there and blame the victims, Wilma. They’ve hid enough ae that shit fur long enough, withoot you joining the long queue. Jist tell me whit it is ye want tae speak tae me aboot and Ah’ll be oan ma way.”

  “Look, Ah’m no here tae argue wae ye, Pearl, bit we…”

  “We?”

  “Glenda Metcalfe his asked me tae meet wae ye…oan the QT. She’s been asked tae review the charge against Teddy Bare. She, like me, like you, believes he deliberately murdered Lesley tae shut her up. Pricilla Presley’s typewritten note…statement, call it whit ye want, hid the potential tae blow the lid aff ae whit hid been gaun oan wae aw they inspectors and sergeants o’er the years. Ah wis pulled aff the investigation earlier than whit Ah wid’ve wanted tae be, efter the north ae the toon erupted and aw they gangsters started daeing each other in. There wis a manpower shortage ae experienced officers tae assist wae the enquiries, especially efter Duggie Dougan goat blasted ootside the front door ae the wee WPC that he’d been hivving an affair wae…”

  “Collette James?”

  “Anyway,” she said, ignoring the interruption. “Aw that’s academic noo, so it is, unless Glenda Metcalfe kin be sure that there’s enough evidence tae convict Bare oan the murder charge.”

  “Bit, ye’ve jist said that you and the prosecutor believe he deliberately murdered her.”

  “We dae, bit the evidence isnae there…”

  “Because you wur pulled aff the case?” Pearl spat at her.

  “Naw…aye, if ye’re putting it like that.”

  “So, reintroduce the evidence ae whit ye know awready.”

  “Even if Ah did, there isnae enough there tae convict him.”

  Silence.

  “So, why kin ye no jist introduce mair then…evidence, Ah mean?”

  “Because we don’t hiv whit’s required. He wis getting put up oan a reduced charge, based oan supportive statements fae his colleagues, who’ve claimed that she wis treating him like dirt, that she wis sleeping aroond and oot partying every other night wae different guys.”

  “Bit, surely that wid be challenged up in court?”

  “Pearl, hen, ye clearly don’t understaun. He’ll be in and oot oan the back ae a plea bargain. There won’t be a trial. They won’t call witnesses, based oan who he’s goat behind him. As Ah’ve jist said, aw his witnesses hiv signed sworn statements that he wis next tae Godliness, so they hiv.”

  “Bit…”

  “However, if Glenda Metcalfe kin persuade that boss ae hers that there’s fresh evidence…like the haunwritten letters fae they ex poliswummin, or that they’re prepared tae be called up as Crown witnesses, then he’ll agree fur Bare tae go tae trial. So, whit Ah, we, need tae know is, ur you in possession ae the letters or kin you persuade the ex poliswummin tae make fresh statements?”

  Silence.

  Pearl turned and looked oot the windae. Couples hurrying by wur bent o’er, huddled thegither, wae their he
ids bent intae the wind. She watched the reflection ae the inspector in the glass, taking a sip ae her Irn Bru, before reaching across and blagging a fag oot ae her packet. She seemed tae remember that the inspector didnae smoke, or hid that jist been a lie tae? Could she trust her? Wis the inspector wan ae The Irish Brigade? She remembered admitting tae the inspector up in the Kings Café the last time they’d met, that Pricilla Presley hid refused tae talk tae her. She also regretted no mentioning the inspector’s name tae Susan McFarlane. How wis she supposed tae know if the fag thief sitting opposite her wisnae wan ae The Irish Brigade? She glanced doon at her watch. It wis seven o’clock. The traffic and the pedestrians heidin hame fae work hid slowed tae a trickle. She hid five hours tae kill before she caught up wae Pussy Galore alang in the car park in Montrose Street. She turned and looked at the inspector, who wis puffing away wae they lips ae hers, lighting up. She looked back through the windae oan tae the street, as a black taxi honked its horn at the car in front ae it tae get its arse moving. She wondered if she wis being tailed. The Inspector hid mentioned the last time that they’d met, that she hid a colleague. Where wis she, she wondered. She turned back tae the poliswummin, jist in time tae catch her taking whit looked like a big satisfied draw fae the fag.

  “Ah thought ye didnae smoke?” she asked her.

  “Ah don’t. Ma man left me and the weans suddenly before Christmas and the basturt returned oot ae the blue, last night, so he did.”

  “Oh.”

  “Ah’m no sure how Ah feel aboot that wan…Ah suppose, if Ah wis honest wae masel, Ah’d say Ah missed him, bit ma heid says that it wis the lack ae adult conversation, wae me sitting at hame oan ma lonesome, that Ah missed the maist. Whit aboot you? Hiv you goat somewan special?” she asked Pearl, watching her light up a fag.

  “Me?” she laughed dismissively. “Ah’ve goat plenty ae boyfriends who ur exactly that and nothing mair. There’s a few wee admirers that hiv suddenly raised their heids above the parapet since Ah’ve been back tae the toon, bit the person Ah really…hiv always loved, is wae somewan else noo. Unfortunately, she happens tae be far mair deserving than somewan like me.”