by Ian Todd
“Lachlan, how are you doing, lad?” Heckie MacLeod hailed him, walking away fae the group towards PC Long Face.
“Oh, er, Mr MacLeod,” the PC replied, exiting the vehicle, looking beyond MacLeod, wondering where the hell Glbby Munro, Lochinver’s Customs and Excise officer wis.
“Glad to see you, laddie. We could do with an extra pair of hands,” MacLeod sang, staunin in front ae the bizzy, clearly blocking him fae gaun any closer tae the lorries, testing the water.
“I’m sorry…er, Mr MacLeod…I’m afraid, I’m er, going to have to arrest you…and the others,” PC Long Face gulped, nodding tae the men behind him, jist as The Skipper reached them.
“What’s all this nonsense about arresting people, Lachlan?” The Skipper scoffed. “Look, come and give us a hand. There’s a few pounds to be had tonight.”
“I’m…er, sorry, Angus, but you’re under arrest too. I’m going to have to seize your boat while I’m at it,” The PC informed him, as everywan laughed.
“Now, now, laddies,” MacLeod turned and said tae the men, smiling. “Look, we don’t have much time, Lachlan. We need to get the fish offloaded and on the road south. Either give us a hand here or piss off. I don’t have time for this.”
“I’m sorry, Mr MacLeod, but I’m arresting you and everyone else here on suspicion of landing an illegal catch in breach of UK fishing laws. I…I’m also obliged to warn you that anything that you say may be…” The PC wis jist saying, when Angus MacKenzie leaned back oan his left leg before letting fly wae a right hook, sending Jimmy Hill’s wee brother and that chequered hat ae his flying doon oan tae his arse in the sand.
“Ouch! I felt that one,” Findlay exclaimed, as everywan winced.
“Do you think we should go down and see if he’s alright?” Ewan asked.
“Jist leave it tae the local militia tae deal wae it,” Cleftie advised, adjusting the lens, as everywan went back tae witnessing whit wis happening doon below them.
“Och, there’s no need for that, Angus…is there, Lachlan?” Heckie MacLeod said tae the dazed polisman as he bent o’er and helped The PC tae his feet and the skipper turned and stomped back tae the boat.
“Right, laddies, what are you standing there looking at? Let’s get these lorries loaded,” The skipper snarled, being helped back up intae the boat by wan ae the crew.
“Lachlan, Lachlan, what are you doing, laddie? You should know not to upset Angus…especially when he’s busy. Look, why don’t you get back in your nice shiny police car and head home, eh?” MacLeod encouraged him soothingly, taking the young PC by the erm and steering him back towards the Landy.
“Look,” PC Long Face shouted, wrenching his erm away. “I’m here to arrest you and the others, Mr MacLeod,” he panted, spitting oot blood fae between his lips where he’d been punched.
“Now, you listen up, laddie, and listen up good. There’s a lot of money at stake here. These are your people. If you insist in going through with this stupid charade, people’s livelihoods will be at stake. How are you going to face neighbours…friends, after they lose their jobs, eh? Vestey’s Bay has been landing smuggled goods for centuries. Without people like us, there wouldn’t be a Lochinver.”
“But…”
“Go home, forget this. This doesn’t concern you. People’s livelihoods are at stake here. Don’t make the biggest mistake of your life, laddie. Taking the Queen’s shilling may be tolerated, but not against your own kind,” Heckie MacLeod warned him, jist as a shout went up, and everywan scattered towards the lorries, as the lights ae the Customs and Excise boat came chugging roond the heidland, its blue light suddenly being switched oan, sending a blue swirling beam alang the sides ae the surrounding cliffs. “What the fuck have you done, boy?” MacLeod screamed, pushing past him, heiding fur his set ae wheels.
“Ha! Ha!” Flintlock McBean laughed oot loud, as they lay there watching PC Long Face dive oot ae the way, as wan ae the lorries nearly ran him o’er, as it heided fur the track. “It’s like something out of Hollywood, this.”
“Aye, and it’s no finished yet,” Cleftie said, pointing the camera tae The Pride Ae Assynt, as the siren oan the Customs and Excise boat let rip as it heided tae block the escaping fishing boat aff and the second lorry drove past the PC, who wis noo back up oan his feet, looking a bit undecided at whit tae dae next.
“There’s no key in the ignition, Mr MacLeod,” the sound ae a voice shouted, as whoever it wis emerged fae the polis Landy.
“Lachlan…give me the key, laddie,” Heckie MacLeod demanded, turning tae face the young PC.
“As I said before, Mr MacLeod, I’m sorry, but I’m afraid to say, you are all under arrest,” he gulped, looking at the six dark menacing figures slowly edging towards him.
“Lachlan…what would your aunt Ishbel say when she’s out of a job, run out of Lochinver, humiliated by your stupidity, eh? Think of her,” MacLeod warned him, edging closer, keeping eye contact wae the nervous polisman. “It doesn’t have to be like this, laddie. Give me the keys…you’ll be well looked after,” he continued soothingly, before launching himsel at the him.
“Fur fuck’s sake! Ah hope you’re capturing aw this, Cleftie?” Johnboy shouted at him, as everywan lay there, pishing themsels laughing.
PC Long Face hid shot aff across the beach towards Achmelvich, his single, trailing wet fitprints being replaced by Heckie MacLeod and the others, as Gibby Munro’s Customs and Excise boat rammed intae the side ae The Pride Ae Assynt.
Chapter Sixty One
“Heavy night?” Tony asked, turning tae look at Pearl, who’d jist sat doon, covering her mooth wae a manicured haun, yawning.
“Ask her,” she grumbled, nodding at Donna The Prima Donna across the table fae them. “Ah’ve jist spent hauf the night oan the phone tae some disgruntled editor up in the Highlands trying tae convince him tae run wae a story aboot a box ae stolen fish, so Ah hiv.”
Pearl thought back tae the early hours ae the morning as she looked fur her fags and lighter in her shoulder bag. She’d been fast asleep. It hid been Lizzie’s thumping oan the bedroom wall that hid wakened her up. Lizzie hid stoapped getting up tae answer the phone through the night no long efter she’d moved in. The calls wur never fur her.
“Pearl, ma wee flower. How’re ye daeing, hen?” Donna hid chirped, sounding fresh and breezy.
“Donna…bit it’s…”
“Three o’clock in the morning?”
“Is it?” she’d groaned, looking aboot the kitchen fur the clock, feeling totally spaced oot.
“Right, hen, Ah need ye tae dae me a wee favour, so Ah dae.”
“Kin it no wait until the…”
“Ah need ye tae write up a story aboot a bit ae fish smuggling…it’s an exclusive, so it is.”
“Bit…”
“The smugglers hiv aw jist been arrested, so it’s an exclusive that needs tae go oot first thing in the morning.”
“Donna…it’s too late, aw the morra’s stories will be getting run aff as we speak,” she’d pled.
“Look, it’s important. This is big, so it is…think ae they cod trade wars wae Iceland and aw that recently…this could topple the government, so it could.”
“The Glesga Echo…fish smuggling? Somehow Ah don’t think so.”
“Whit, ye don’t think they’d run wae it? Whit aboot that paper ye used tae work wae up there in the Highlands then?”
“Donna, it’s the middle ae the night...they widnae touch me wae a barge-pole. They hated me.”
“Look, this concerns Senga and Johnboy.”
“Eh?”
“Right then, hiv ye goat yer pencil and pad at the ready,” Donna hid rasped, launching intae some mind-numbing tale aboot some Highland chieftain who wis apparently ripping everywan aff, including Senga and Johnboy.
“Look, leave it wae me and Ah’ll see whit Ah kin dae. There’s a newspaper called The Northern Times. They’ll maybe be interested in it, although Ah cannae promise ye anything,” she’d said, eft
er hearing Donna’s tale ae woe.
“Aw, wid ye jist look at that wee pet lamb, Tony? Is there no way ye could get her hooked up wae some decent guy, insteid ae some ae they poncie pricks Ah’ve seen her prancing aboot in the toon wae recently?” Donna asked him.
“Whit, ye mean, like some gangster type?” he asked, smiling.
“Er, excuse me, bit Ah’m sitting here, so Ah am,” Pearl reminded them, placing her fags and lighter oan the table.
“Ah’m no talking aboot some psycho…maybe somewan like wan ae youse?”
“Aw The Mankys hate her. The only wan that wid gie her the time ae day wis that daft prick, Johnboy…and we aw know who he ended up wae,” he scoffed, as baith Pearl and Donna laughed.
“Naw, bit seriously, Pearl, hen. Who wis that big ugly dreep Ah clocked ye drooling o’er, sitting in The Fish Plaice doon in the Saltmarket a few days ago?” Donna continued, as Pearl blushed at the insinuation. “Christ, Ah hid tae look away, it wis that embarrassing.”
“Fur your information, that wis the subject ae wan ae ma exclusives that’s coming up.”
“Ach, so you say,” Donna tutted, haudin oot the flame ae her lighter tae her before lighting her ain fag up.
“Anyway?” baith Tony and Pearl asked thegither, looking across the booth at the 1975 businesswummin ae the year, before turning tae each other and laughing.
“Look, breakfast is oan me, so it is. So, if Ah’m picking up the tab, the pair ae youse will jist hiv tae go at a pace that wullnae gie me indigestion.”
“Dae you know whit the hell Madam Tussaud here is oan aboot?” Tony asked the journalist.
“Naw, no really, bit Ah’m sure we’re jist aboot tae find oot. Is that no right, Donna?” Pearl asked sweetly, trying tae encourage her tae get tae the point.
“Look, it’ll take mair that youse pair ae amateurs tae get me tae spill the beans before Ah’m good and ready, so it will. Jist relax and enjoy yer breakfast,” she sang, as the wee lassie arrived wae the three fry-ups. “Ye know, Ah hid ma very first romantic date in here, so Ah did. That wis back in the days when places like The University Café jist sold pokey-hats, tea and bottles ae coke. The jukebox sat jist o’er there, so it did,” she sighed.
“Ah thought aw youse wur never oot ae Gizzi’s up the tap ae Parly Road?” Pearl reminded her.
“We wur, bit Ah wis seeing somewan behind Fraser’s back at the time. Ah met him at night school when Ah wis studying book-keeping. He stayed roond the corner in White Street there,” she replied, gesturing across tae the windae wae her knife. “He wis ugly as sin, bit at the time, Ah thought he wis a total gentleman, so Ah did.”
“Night school? So, ye wur married tae Fraser at the time then?” Tony asked, his interest piqued.
“Aye. That’s why we met up in here. At the time, he smoked a pipe…which wisnae unusual fur the young guys in they days. Ah remember thinking that he wis jist so sophisticated in an Arthur Miller sort ae way, so Ah did.”
“Arthur Miller?” Pearl asked.
“Death Ae A Salesman…stupidly married Marilyn Monroe,” Tony said, crunching intae a slice ae toast.
“He started oot in the bank straight efter he left school. Then, efter a few years ae sitting behind the coonter wasting his life away, he started at night school in Allan Glen’s tae try and get himsel promotion. That’s where Ah came across him. He always wanted tae be an accountant. The first time he shagged me wis up the closemooth next door,” Donna admitted, as the pair sitting opposite her jist aboot choked oan their tattie scones. “Ah know it probably sounds kinda slapperish tae youse pair, bit it wisnae like that. He wis a sensitive lover, so he wis.”
As Donna sighed and dabbed her eyes wae a paper Handy Andy, Pearl and Tony burst oot laughing.
“Fur Christ’s sake, Donna, Ah’ve heard ae people being referred tae as sensitive lovers, bit how the fuck kin a guy hivving a knee-trembler up a smelly auld tenement closemooth be classed as a sensitive lover?” Tony wanted tae know.
“Aw Donna, ye’ve jist gone and put me aff this good link sausage, so ye hiv,” Pearl exclaimed, drapping the sausage back oan tae her plate, as the other two cackled. “Ah’ll hiv that picture in ma heid aw day noo, so Ah will.”
“It wisnae like aw youse young wans noo-a-days, ye know. Naebody hid flats in they days, especially the young wans. Ye hid tae be married tae hiv yer ain place. The Corporation widnae even look at a single person.”
“Hing oan a sec. Did you no jist say that he wis yer first date…”
“Aye, Ah know whit ye’re thinking Tony, son, bit when me and Fraser started tae go oot, there wisnae much ae a courtship involved. We didnae go oot and aboot anywhere thegither or anything as romantic as that. Wherever Ah wis at night wae the likes ae Johnboy’s ma, Helen Taylor, Senga’s ma, Ann Jackson, your ma, Sharon, Betty and Soiled Sally…usually in Gizzi’s, he’d jist turn up at the end ae the night and that wis that. The guys didnae actually ask the lassies oot oan dates in they days…at least the wans fae the Toonheid didnae. The first real date that any ae us hid, as in gaun oot somewhere nice, wis when Helen started winching The Big Man, jist before she left the school. He wid’ve been like the rest ae the dinosaurs, bit she’d telt him tae fuck aff efter she found oot that he’d been threatening aw the local guys who fancied her, tae stay well clear. She wis a bit ae a pariah in the men stakes at the time, wis poor Helen. Tae get him tae stoap pestering her, she’d hit him wae aw sorts ae demands, like being taken tae the pictures, oot fur a meal, that kind ae thing. Of course, it backfired oan her. He loved taking her oot and aboot, showing her aff tae people. It wis only efter that, that the rest ae them started taking us oot, bit by then Ah wis up the stick and wis married tae Fraser.”
“So, wis he married as well?” Pearl asked.
“Who?”
“Mr Sensitive Lover.”
“Naw. Ah remember that he hid a sister wae two kids. Her and her man lived in the flat wae his ma…seemingly she wis a right nag, so she wis…the sister Ah mean.”
“According tae him,” Pearl said.
“Naw, she wis. He telt me himsel. Y’know, he never ever swore in ma company in aw the times we wur seeing each other…well, apart fae when that nagging sister’s name came up.”
“So, whit became ae him then?” Tony asked.
Silence.
“Whit, poor Herbert, ye mean?” she finally replied, looking at them, coming back tae the here and noo. “Oh, Ah don’t know if Ah should say, so Ah shouldnae…whit’s in the past should maybe stay there.”
“Ye cannae leave it at that, Donna,” Pearl chastised her, picking up the fork wae the link sausage still stuck oan it and taking a bite.
“It’s…it’s aw speculation oan ma part, so don’t take this as fact,” she warned them in advance. “Wan day oot ae the blue, Fraser started being nice tae me…aye, like, ‘Dae ye want me tae pick up anything fae Sherbet’s fur ye, hen?’ That kind ae niceness. Of course, Ah freaked oot. At first, Ah thought it wis because he’d maybe hid a flashback tae the time The Big Man goat Wan-bob Broon and a few ae the others tae batter him senseless, efter Ah wis oan the receiving end ae a few black eyes, bit it wisnae that…at least, Ah didnae think so at the time. Anyway, roond aboot the same week, wae him still freaking me oot by being nice and aw that, the bank that Herbert worked in goat held up. It wis wages day fur two ae the local factories alang oan Alexandra Parade, so there wis plenty ae money in the vault that day. At jist efter eleven o’clock in the morning, three guys burst in through the front door and held the place up. Herbert’s wee grill oan the coonter wis at the far end, well away fae any ae the robbers, so he should’ve been the safest oot ae aw the tellers. As the robbers marched oot ae the bank wae the bags ae dosh, the wan at the back hesitated at the door, before suddenly turning and walked across the flair tae where Herbert wis sitting. Nae words wur exchanged. The basturt jist let him hiv it at point blank range between they eyes ae his, so he did.”
“Whit? Shot him?” Pearl gasped.
Silence.
“Aye, well, maybe we should change the subject, eh?” Tony suggested, lifting up his mug and taking a sip, kicking Pearl’s leg under the table.
“So, ye’re saying it wis Fraser, Donna?” Pearl persisted, drawing a scowl fae Tony.
“Whit Ah’m saying is that some basturt shot the only guy Ah ever loved, who’d treated me wae the love and respect Ah deserved,” she cursed, eyes suddenly blazing. “Poor Herbert knew fine well that Ah hid three weans and insisted that it didnae bother him how many snappers Ah hid. He wis the only guy up till then and since who ever telt me that he loved me.”
Silence.
“Kin ye imagine how Ah felt when Ah found oot that it hid been him that hid been shot deid? Ma world fell apart, so it did. Herbert McKay wis ma route tae a decent life…kin ye imagine where me and the weans wid’ve ended up if that hidnae happened? Of course, Ah tried tea speak tae Big Pat aboot it…so did Helen, bit he swore that the bank robbery hid nothing tae dae wae any ae them. That wis another reason why Helen dumped The Big Man…that and the fact that he wis shagging somebody else behind her back. It wis really unusual fur people tae be running aboot wae guns back in the late forties. Helen and Big Pat hid a massive row aboot them. Wan day, he turned up at her ma’s roond in Murray Street, asking her if she’d look efter a handgun he hid. She’d held oot her haun. Efter the stupid basturt handed it across tae her, she walked across tae the windae and slung it as far as it wid go. It landed oan tap ae the gutter ae The Grafton Picture Hoose which backed oan tae her back court. Whit a humdinger ae a row they hid. Efter telling him tae piss aff back tae that floozy ae his, she never went oot wae him again. As fur poor Herbert? It jist became another unsolved crime in the toon here. The polis wur useless as ye’d expect. In they days, they couldnae catch a bloody cauld, never mind a murdering bank robber. The guy in charge ae the case, Davidson? Bloody useless. Ah actually went and spoke tae him. Ah wis that distraught, Ah telt him aboot ma suspicion…aye, regarding Fraser’s possible involvement. He jist sat there and listened tae whit Ah hid tae say withoot taking any notes and that wis that. Despite ma distress, it wis obvious…at least tae me, that he wis oan the take. Remember, this wis jist efter the war and Big Pat and aw that crowd wur blagging twenty-four-seven at the time. Nobody could get their hauns oan anything and everywan lived oan coupons. The clatty basturt…Davidson…the chief inspector? Aw he wis interested in wis whit me and Herbert goat up tae in the humpy-pumpy stakes behind the scenes, than who shot the poor soul. The cheeky basturt even hid the cheek tae ask me oot oan a date, despite ma obvious distress. He obviously thought Ah wis some sort ae a tart, me being married at the time and aw that. Despite it being in and oot ae the papers fur a few months, nowan came forward and then, that wis that. Nothing,” she said, clicking her fingers. “Whoever done it escaped the hangman’s noose. It did cross ma mind, aye, many a time o’er the years, tae get shot ae that Fraser ae mine, bit Ah still couldnae be a hunner percent sure that it hid been him. Of course, there wis the weans tae think aboot as well. Despite being a grumpy violent basturt, he wis still their da efter aw. A few years later, Superintendent Bill Davidson…he’d been promoted by this time, ended up dying in a serious car accident across oan Alison Street beside the traffic lights, while oot oan bail fur corruption. He’d seemingly been oan the take fae the McGregors fur years efter it wis discovered that he’d thousands in a bank account in a false name…the dishonest basturt.”