by Todd, Ian
“The cages were constructed for those wrecking the prisons and assaulting prison staff, Gus. None of these YOs have done any of that, and anyway, the cages are meant for cons over the age of twenty one. The international press have picked up on the treatment of those already housed there. Putting teenagers in would be disastrous for our reputation abroad.”
“Even if the teenagers ur murdering scum?”
“The YOs referred to have not been convicted of murder. The intelligence reports you referred to earlier indicate possible involvement in the murder of this notorious gangster and the wounding of Governor Crawford’s wife. As I understand it, the link is a tenuous one at best and originated from a local police inspector who has a history of clashes with the YOs in question, going back a number of years. The records, other than the ones you’ve been privy to, list claims and counterclaims of harassment and intimidation between the local constabulary and these YOs, going back to when they were young juveniles. Whether these teenagers were involved in the murder or not is still an open book. Despite intensive investigation, the Glasgow constabulary couldn’t produce conclusive evidence linking them to the murder of this gangster nor the injuries sustained by Governor Crawford’s wife.”
“So, where ur we then, Jack?” The Governor asked, clearly unhappy wae whit wis being said.
“As Ah’ve jist said, Gus, The Department wants tae be flexible and helpful. Efter aw, we’re aw sailing in the same boat. George Crawford kin stay in charge ae Dumfries, as long as he kin keep his hauns aff ae the YOs. If they start messing aboot, then they should be dealt wae in the normal disciplinary manner. In the meantime, we’ve spoken tae Henry Baker, the current chief officer across in the Bar-L, and he’s agreed tae be shifted doon tae Dumfries tae be George’s right-haun man,” Jack said, shutting his eyes, waiting fur the explosion tae erupt.
The Governor let whit Jack Broon hid said sink in. He looked across at the suits. Jack’s eyes hid re-opened and The Governor could see the pleading in them tae accept whit he’d jist been offered. It made sense when he thought aboot it. Henry Baker, or Baker the Basturt, as prisoners up and doon the country called him, wis tough as shit and took nae nonsense fae anywan, including governors. He wis a good man tae hiv aroond, when trouble wis brewing. There wis only wan problem.
“Bit, Ah thought he wis jist aboot tae retire? His farewell bash took place last Friday night.”
“He wis, and it did, bit he’s changed his mind. We’ve offered him a nice wee package oan tap ae his pension that he couldnae afford tae knock back. Noo, it’ll only be fur three years, bit during that period, the three YOs in question will hiv either served oot their sentence or will hiv reached the age ae twenty wan and will hiv been transferred oot ae Dumfries and up intae the adult jails. Henry his awready worked wae George when he wis the AG oot in Polmont. Fae whit Ah kin gather, they goat oan like a hoose oan fire. It’s a win-win situation fur everywan, so it is,” Jack said persuasively.
“And the three pals ae the wans that ur noo doon in Dumfries that Ah’ve goat here? Why ur they holed up here and no across in the young offenders hall in the Bar-L? Why his this Baxter wan, serving nine years, also been dumped oan tae me. Whit’s the story wae him, eh? Here’s another example ae the rules being twisted and bent. He’s the wan that escaped fae the Bar-L earlier this year. He’s another wan that shouldnae be here. Whit’s that aw aboot, eh? Jack Finnegan, The POA rep, his awready been in demanding tae know whit we’re up tae. He says his members ur entitled tae enhancements if we hiv convicted YOs serving time here other than HMPs,” The Governor scowled, catching his breath.
“Yes, well, that’s another matter I would like to discuss with you, Gus. That’s the real reason I’m here,” The Brief admitted, taking his time in picking crumbs aff ae his club tie and feeding them intae his gub.
“Oh?”
“Yes. We, The Department that is, have been asked to establish a link…a close relationship, between this inmate, James Baxter, and two of your recently arrived prisoners…a John Taylor and a…a…oh yes, a Samuel Smith,” The Brief said, efter shuffling his papers and looking up fae his notes. “As you’ll no doubt be aware, James Baxter, aged eighteen, was sentenced to nine years in January of this year, for his part in a bank robbery, where a shotgun was discharged at two police officers in a branch of The Clydeside Bank on Maryhill Road, Glasgow…and attempting to murder them. Two weeks after being found guilty and incarcerated in Barlinnie’s E Hall, the young offender’s section, Baxter escaped from the scrap workshop after being buried in a big bag of scrap metal by other YOs who lifted the bag, with him in it, up on to the back of a lorry that was allowed in to the establishment to haul the scrap away. Baxter was subsequently recaptured and as you know, was temporary transferred up to Longriggend from Dumfries YOI last Monday to attend Airdrie Sheriff Court on Friday past, where an additional six months was added to run consecutively to his current sentence. When he was re-apprehended and arrested in Airdrie town centre, Baxter resisted arrest and was charged with assaulting a police officer. Baxter has always denied that he was one of the five culprits that robbed the bank in Glasgow, the same bank that your two new admissions, Taylor and Smith, were recently convicted of, despite admitting he was in the bank at the time of the robbery. Baxter claims that he was a customer and that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, and that as there was an outstanding warrant out for his arrest for aggravated burglary at the time of the robbery, he panicked and fled from the bank before the police arrived on the scene. His lawyer, Silas Abraham, a well-known and capable Glasgow criminal solicitor, is mounting an aggressive appeal against his client’s conviction. The Crown is equally determined to refute that claim of innocence and is not prepared to lose the appeal. Alan Small, Queen’s Counsel, and Head of the Crown’s Criminal Division in Edinburgh, will be leading The Crown’s challenge on Baxter’s appeal. He has requested our assistance.”
“So, why no wait until the three ae them ur aw thegither doon in Dumfries, Thomas?”
“The concern is that Baxter’s defence team will claim that their client cannot be expected not to have daily or regular contact with Taylor and Smith once they are all incarcerated in Dumfries. The defence’s argument will be that Baxter, Taylor and Smith only knew each other through their association by being mixed together in Dumfries. Now, we know Baxter is as guilty as the other two, therefore, we need to tie him to them, hence the reason behind putting Taylor and Smith to Longriggend to await assessment. Given the known restricted movements of inmates within Longriggend, if we can associate Baxter with Taylor and Smith, then we would have ample evidence to demolish Baxter’s assertion that his ties with Taylor and Smith are circumstantial. It’s crucial for any future appeal that The Crown can evidence a close association between the three of them. With Taylor and Smith being here alongside Baxter, this seemed like the best opportunity to get what we, er, require,” The Brief explained, shrugging they shoulders ae his.
“So, that’s the reason they’re here? I did wonder,” The Governor murmured.
“Yes, so any assistance would be greatly appreciated.”
“Well, Ah think Ah’ve maybe wasted yer journey, Thomas. Baxter wis caught red-haunded, receiving contraband fae an untried prisoner yesterday while attending church. He knows fine well that that’s against the rules, so he’s banned fae leaving his cell. His mattress, Gideon’s’ bible and anything else in his possession will be sitting oot in the corridor until he kin be shifted back doon tae Dumfries tae continue wae his sentence.”
“I see.”
“Aye, and Ah’m no in a position tae change ma mind oan that either. It wis only jist this morning that Ah sentenced him. And anyway, baith Taylor and him ur locked up twenty four hours a day in here. They widnae normally hiv any contact anyway, apart fae maybe gaun tae church oan a Sunday. Ah’ve goat Baxter booked oan the wagon heiding back doon tae Dumfries this Friday, so Ah hiv.”
“Oh,” The Brief said, clearly disappointed.
&
nbsp; “There must be something ye kin dae, Gus, surely?” Jack asked him.
“Taylor and his sidekick, Smith, will be getting their destination assessment oan Wednesday, even though it’s a foregone conclusion. The social work office gets used fur the assessment interviews. Ah’ll see if wee Moira, oor resident social worker, will arrange tae see Baxter oan the pretence that she’s worried aboot his illicit contraband behaviour. Nae doubt, it’ll cost me, bit Ah’m sure she’ll dae me the favour. Ah cannae promise anything will come oot ae it though, bit Ah’ll hiv a couple ae ma officers hinging aboot nearby. Ah’ll get them tae relax the security a wee bit tae allow contact between the pair ae them. Ah’ll make sure that they’re able tae lug in at a discreet distance, tae hear whit Taylor and Baxter talk aboot. Fae whit Ah kin gather, we’ll be wasting oor time wae the other wan, Smith, as he comes across as a bit ae a mute. If anything comes up, Ah’ll gie ye a shout, Thomas.”
“Perfect. If we can determine a connection between that pair, some sort of friendship, then I’m sure The Department would want to show it’s appreciation,” The Brief replied, staunin up as the springs oan the seat loudly groaned and twanged oot their appreciation.
“Well, thanks fur the tea, date buns and the understaunin regarding the George Crawford situation, Gus. Ah’m sure everything will work oot in the end,” Jack said, shaking The Governor’s haun. “Obviously, we’ll need tae set up a meeting wae aw concerned.”
“Yes, that goes for me too, Gus,” The Brief agreed, proffering his haun, noticing the file oan the governor’s desk wis turned roond the wrang way fur The Governor tae hiv been reading it when they’d first arrived.
“Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.
Britain’s deep-sea trawler men started withdrawing from Icelandic waters today, in a shock move, after the government refused to send in navy frigates to protect them…
Twenty two children are believed to have been poisoned by sodium hypochlorite, a disinfectant used for washing milk bottles, after drinking contaminated milk at their primary school in Yoker this morning…
One of Glasgow’s most controversial and colourful councillors, JP Donnelly, has been cleared by a special enquiry into fraud allegations after he sensationally came second in the local Keppochhill by-election in January 1972, behind now deceased Glasgow housewife and activist, Helen Taylor. It was alleged that Mr Donnelly had offered documents bearing forged signatures and presented them to a JP and the Town Clerk’s Department during the bitter local by-election early last year. Mr Donnelly claimed that the allegation was orchestrated by powerful allies of Mrs Taylor to bar him from re-standing in the second by-election held in the ward in as many months…
An elderly couple found dead in their top-storey tenement flat by their thirty-three-year-old daughter in Shettleston Road on Monday morning, died of carbon monoxide poisoning, a police spokesman said today. Seventy-eight-year-old Brian Tulloch and his seventy-seven-year-old wife, Margaret…
A campaign to raise awareness of litter dropping has been launched in the city. Trevor Knight, Chairman of the Education Committee has called for school children to be made more aware of the blight they are causing by throwing away their sweet wrappers instead of placing them in litter baskets recently distributed across the city…
Two refrigerated trailers have been reported stolen from an overnight parking compound in Tollcross, after the drivers of two articulated cabs turned up to collect them this morning. McCullum’s Refrigerated Transport manager, John McCullum, said that the trailers were full of prime Aberdeen Angus meat, bound for the lucrative European market…
Police have released the name of the women who stepped off the platform in front of a subway train at Ibrox Underground yesterday as twenty-eight-year-old Gladys Sutherland. Her devastated husband has released a statement saying he had no idea why his loving wife would want to commit suicide. It is understood that Mr Sutherland had previously been jailed for assaulting his wife three years ago…
A seventeen-year-old was admitted to The Royal Infirmary after being found wandering along George Street in a distressed state late last night. It is believed that the pretty teenager had been assaulted and raped…”
Chapter Nine
Johnboy gied the big basturt sitting opposite him another wee glance. He wished tae hell he knew whit he’d supposedly done tae upset him. The baith ae them hid been sitting in silence fur the past fifteen minutes, secretly eyeing each other up, avoiding direct eye contact. Johnboy looked aboot the room fur the umpteenth time. It wis a typical jail space, clearly designed by somewan who wis colour blind, who’d been trying tae impress some faceless, bit obviously important bureaucrat, in tae believing that they really wurnae staunin in the middle ae a madhouse that tried tae pass itsel aff as a jail social work reception area, efter being allowed oot ae The Department fur a day visit tae the place. The three tiny barred windaes, high up oan the brick walls oan the same side ae the room as The Scowler hid sun bleached, six feet length, multi-coloured jungle-leaved green curtains hinging oan either side ae them that clashed heavily wae the lilac painted brickwork and broon lino-covered flair. At either end ae the twenty by thirty feet ae flair space, a hauf dozen wooden and chipped metal tubular chairs faced each other, hinting at their wance prominent position ae hivving spent some time in a boardroom, bit noo awaiting their imminent disposal tae the local tip, wance a budget could be identified by The Department accountants in Edinburgh tae replace them. Unintentionally splitting the room in two wis the well-worn path across the lino, that hid been ploughed by countless leather-soled shoes, stretching between the door in tae the room itsel and the door directly opposite it, where a highly polished brass sign announced tae the world that this wis the social work office where the current jail destination assessment interviews wur tae take place. Johnboy wis hopefully gieing everywan the impression that he wis reasonably laid back and relaxed, despite that antennae ae his being switched oan and buzzing like a speed-freak oan heat. The screws, loitering aboot at the other end ae the room fae where Johnboy and The Scowler wur sitting, wur trying tae act normal, so Johnboy knew fine well that there wis some sort ae set-up being played oot. Three screws hid escorted him fae his cell, withoot telling him where he wis gaun, only tae join up wae the three awready hinging aboot wae The Scowler at the final destination. He’d noticed that The Scowler’s mattress and other gear wur still sitting oot in the corridor, tae the side ae his cell door. Johnboy hid found oot pretty quickly oan Sunday, efter the church service, that his man hid been spotted being haunded something fae wan ae the untried YOs who’d been exiting the church up the aisle. He’d lugged intae the commotion ootside his cell door when they’d escorted The Scowler back and telt him he wis oan governor’s report. He’d stood by the inside ae his cell door and listened tae the screws gleefully informing The Scowler tae shift his meagre belongings oot intae the corridor. Johnboy hid spent the day speculating whit it wis that he’d been caught wae. Hid it been a blade? Noo, here he wis, sitting waiting tae be assessed oan where he wis gonnae end up, in the same room as somewan who wanted tae kill him, while the escort screws wur refusing tae plap they lazy arses ae theirs doon oan tae the inviting hauf dozen empty chairs at the other end ae the room, trying hard no tae alert him tae the fact that they wur up tae something. He glanced across at The Scowler, bolder this time, no hiding the fact that he wis deliberately trying tae eye-ball him. Johnboy wondered whether The Scowler hid also picked up that the screws wur up tae something, or wis he part ae the set-up? It wis well-known in the jail that the screws set guys up. It wis also well-known that a wee back haunder could be slipped intae an envelope oan the ootside tae some aff duty screw who’d then turn his back oan whit wis happening back in the jail, where somewan wid end up getting a blade in the ribs, as hid happened tae Silent, back in Polmont in 1971. It wis carry-oans like that, that made new jail admissions like Johnboy and Silent nervous and jumpy as fuck. If The Scowler wis worth his s
alt, he widnae be showing any signs ae his intention towards Johnboy. Johnboy reckoned there wis aboot two tae three decent strides between them. He wondered if he’d hiv time tae pick up wan ae the chairs oan route and still make it across the divide between them, before The Scowler knew whit wis happening. He quickly shifted his focus back doon towards the screws, allowing the eyes ae the YO across fae him tae sneak another peek at him. Johnboy’s brain wis screaming inside that heid ae his, urging him tae go fur the basturt while he hid the chance. Johnboy, again, studied the length ae the space between them. He didnae want tae get intae a close huddle where The Scowler could haud oan tae him. He wis a big strong-looking basturt and Johnboy reckoned that tae take him, he’d need plenty ae space tae manoeuvre, in order tae keep away fae they vice-like erms that wur oan display, folded across that barrel chest ae his. Johnboy wisnae too concerned aboot the size or strength ae his opponent. He’d been in enough situations in the past tae know exactly how much effort wis required tae put this wan oot ae the game swiftly, so wis reasonably comfortable oan whit hid tae be done tae resolve The Scowler’s personal issues wae him and Silent, wance and fur aw. He’d need tae hiv the freedom ae movement tae inflict as much damage oan him in as short a space ae time, before he wis overpowered by the dodgy-looking screws, over-playing the fact that they wurnae up tae something at the far end ae the room.
“Taylor! Right, in ye come,” a screw hollered, efter the social worker’s door wis suddenly yanked open, startling baith Johnboy and his victim across fae him.
“Take a seat,” a grey, side-burned chief screw, full ae silver-braided crowns stuffed wae imitation red velvet, growled, motioning him tae roost oan the solitary seat in front ae the desk.
Johnboy took his time in taking up the offer. Opposite him sat an assistant governor, wae a female social worker tae his left and a chief officer, full ae rainbow-coloured medal ribbons splashed across that chest ae his, tae his right. The AG and the social worker hid a buff-coloured folder open in front ae them and wur flicking through the sheets ae paper it contained. The Chief jist sat immobile, staring at him through deid-looking eyes, baith shoulders covered in dandruff. Fur some strange reason, Johnboy wanted tae lean across and flick each shoulder wae the palm ae his haun, bit thought better ae it. He wis well-aware ae the presence ae the two screws staunin anchored close behind, oan either side ae him, by the sound ae the wheezing escaping fae wan ae them. Good…a smoker…he thought tae himsel. He looked across at the social worker, busying hersel wae the contents ae his file. He knew as soon as he clapped eyes oan her that she wis the wan that hid thrown the pen at Snappy during his admission interview when he’d been up oan remand in Longriggend a while back. Ah’ll gie her mair than a pen if she bloody well starts any ae that shite wae me, Johnboy thought tae himsel, trying hard no tae scowl at her and show his haun this early in the game. Snappy hid her described doon tae a T. She wis yer typical horsey-faced, greasy-looking jailbird social worker. She wis as ugly as sin and hid that grey pallor, similar tae a long term prisoner who hidnae been oot intae natural light in a while. He wondered whit her excuse wis. She sported wan ae they smoker’s permanent ‘Ah’m dying fur a fag’ startled looks, that his ma and aw her pals used tae wear…like a blinking neon sign oan a dark night…when they’d suddenly discover, too late, that no only hid they nae fags, bit there wisnae a packet ae Typhoo tea leaves lurking in the back ae a kitchen cupboard as back-up either. She wis dressed like she shoapped in a rag store, clearly proud as punch tae be displaying that set a keys, attached tae her belt by a long steel chain, similar tae the wans harnessed by the two sitting tae the right ae her. While no decked oot in a uniform, she hid that same superior demeanour as everywan else in the nick, who goat tae walk aboot wae a set ae jangling keys attached tae them. The only thing lower than a sex-offending stoat-the-baw in a jail, as far as maist jailbirds Johnboy knew, wis yer ‘Ah’m in here fur the long-run and enjoying every fulfilling minute ae it’ low-life social worker. Everywan that Johnboy knew who’d ever done any time inside aw believed that the reason social workers, male or female, chose tae work in a jail, wis because ae some sort ae sexual kick. Why else wid anywan want tae come and work in a place like Longriggend? Fuck, even working in a zoo wid’ve been mair satisfying than coming tae work, day-in, day-oot, in a midden like Longriggend, unless there wis a perverted angle in there somewhere. He wondered if he wid get the opportunity tae slip that long held observation in during the interview withoot it being deemed oot ae order or offensive. Johnboy knew fine well that there wis a load ae verbal abuse heiding his way, gaun by the filthy looks she wis slinging across at him. He sat back and relaxed, looking forward tae the flairshow that wis aboot tae start.