by Todd, Ian
A Springburn police sergeant denied in Glasgow Sheriff Court today that he had a notorious reputation for regularly assaulting prisoners, particular young street-gang members, whilst apprehending and being left in his care in the cells of various police stations, stretching back eighteen years. Police Sergeant Finbar O’Callaghan, was giving evidence against two street-gang member brothers, caught carrying offensive weapons on Springburn Road on the tenth of March this year. Sergeant O’Callaghan claimed he had never heard the nickname ‘Bumper,’ supposedly given to him by local gang members due to his excessive arresting techniques. Sergeant Callaghan was challenged repeatedly by defence solicitor Grahame Portoy of using excessive force by using police patrol vehicles to run over those attempting to abscond or to evade arrest. Sergeant Callaghan claimed he had no idea why the two accused had to attend casualty up in Stobhill General Hospital, two hours after being arrested, stating that the injuries were probably inflicted on each other as a result of a fight between them, before he arrested them. Procurator Fiscal, Glenda Metcalfe, demanded that Sheriff Clifford Burns dismiss Mr Portoy’s insinuations and find the youths guilty of mobbing and rioting and placing local residents in a state of fear. The brothers were later found guilty and fined twenty pounds each…
Two women, believed to be prostitutes, were arrested for brawling in Douglas Lane, just off West George Street. It’s believed they were fighting over a client…
Three women from Springburn were each fined twenty five pounds after being found guilty of breach of the peace at The Marine District court for assaulting sheriff officers in the course of conducting a warrant sale in Morrin Street yesterday…
A single mother of seven young children aged between eighteen months and eleven years was warned by JP James Harris that she would be sent to prison if she didn’t get her act together, and make sure her four eldest children got out of their beds and out of the house to attend school. Fining thirty-five-year-old Jean McAlister twenty pounds, JP Harris informed the single parent that this was his last warning to her at the city’s Central Police court this…”
Chapter Fourteen
“Father Leonard…Miss, er, Mrs Flaw…come in…have a seat,” The Governor beamed, withoot getting up, nodding tae the two seats in front ae his desk.
“Thank you, Governor,” Fanny replied, as the two sat doon. “And it’s Ms.”
“So, now that you’re back, Miss, er, Mrs Flaw, I wanted to meet with the both of you to discuss the changes to the security arrangements since Miss, er, Mrs Flaw has been absent.”
“Yes, we would appreciate discussing the situation to see if there’s any way we ca…”
“I don’t think I made myself clear, Miss, er, Mrs Flaw. I’ve called you and Father Leonard in here today to inform you both, officially, that a decision has already been taken at a management level after a review of the establishment’s security. The outcome of that review has already been implemented whilst you were away sunning yourself on some beach,” he said pleasantly, crossing his hauns oan the desk in front ae him.
“My understanding was that before any major changes could be made to the way the institution operates, which affect civilian staff working within the establishment, a consultative discussion would take place beforehand to try and accommodate the operational work of those agencies,” Fanny replied, turning and looking at the priest, who nodded in agreement.
“On security matters, and in the interests of safety to everyone, we alone take those decisions. We are not obliged to discuss issues of security with civilians,” he curtly replied.
“My understanding was that we would be asked for our views if a review took place,” she persisted.
“And it was.”
“Well, I was never asked,” she replied, turning roond and looking at the priest again.
“I believe Father Leonard was informed that there was a review taking place and any comments made would be taken into consideration,” The Governor interjected, before the priest could respond.
“And social work?”
“My understanding was that your colleague, Mr Miller, was informed and he assured us that any changes to the current regime would have no bearing on the work or delivery of social work services within the institution,” The Governor replied, smiling.
“Mr Miller was only standing in whilst I was on leave, Governor. He wasn’t in a position to fully appreciate the consequences of the changes…as I understand them,” Fanny replied, starting tae get flustered.
“Well, if that’s the case, I suggest you take that up with someone within your own department.”
“I think what Fanny is trying to say, Governor, is that the changes will restrict access to the inmates.”
“I disagree, Father. Both you and Miss, er, Mrs Flaw, will still be able to go about your business. The only difference will be that some areas of the establishment will be out of bounds at certain periods of the day…such as meal times.”
“But, that’s where we’ve made positive inroads in to developing a relationship with the YOs, Governor. Through that informal contact, the boys are starting to trust us and are taking up the services we offer. We have the statistics that back that up,” Fanny protested, lifting up the evidence sheet.
“My concern is for the welfare of the staff, including all civilians, who work within the boundaries of Dumfries YOI. There have been riots taking place all over the Scottish prison estate. Fortunately, Dumfries has been spared this…for now. The type of young offender we’re being asked to rehabilitate today, is far different from, say, five years ago. We have to move with the times, I’m afraid.”
“Am I right in understanding that the changes are as a result of the recent arrival of three inmates earlier in the week, Governor?” Fanny persisted.
“What makes you ask that?”
“Well, I also heard that there may be a…a, er…a connection between what happened to your, er, wife, Alison, when she worked as a senior social worker in Glasgow a few years ago, and one or more of these new arrivals, even though I believe no charges were ever brought against them,” Fanny replied, taking a deep breath and gulping.
Silence.
“As I understand it, there has been mention of a possible connection and as you quite rightly say, no charges were ever brought to bear,” The Governor replied, choosing his words carefully. “I’m a firm believer that all men are innocent until proven guilty, Miss, Mrs Flaw. I think that it’s unfortunate that confidential information contained within prison inmates’ files seem to have become the topic of loose conversation amongst prison and civilian staff. I would have preferred that information to be suppressed. However, the powers that be in The Department refused to have it removed. I have asked Mr Marshall, the chief officer, to speak with uniformed staff, to assure them that I am fully aware of the contents of the said files and that other than a passing reference, there is nothing to substantiate any involvement in my…er, dear wife’s, tragic, er, near death experience a few years ago,” he replied, eyes narrowing at the insolence. “I have also asked The Chief to convey my thanks to all staff for their concern and kind support, and to assure them that I will continue to conduct my duties in a professional and considerate way. I have also implored him to ask staff to ensure that the contents of the files, any files, are not leaked to any of the inmates. Now, to answer your question in full, Miss, Mrs Flaw…the security changes instigated have nothing whatsoever to do with any inmate or inmates, who have recently arrived in Dumfries YOI. As I have already stated, security has been reviewed and tightened. This is happening across the whole Scottish system, due to the recent riots in the adult prisons. The Department is concerned that, as we approach summer, inmates will attempt to take over some of the halls and wings in the larger jails and stage protests on the roofs. If the truth be told, I am more concerned about two inmates who are not even in Dumfries, but who are awaiting transfer from Longriggend. One of them has just received the highest sentence ever imposed on a teenager in Scotlan
d and is already causing chaos by assaulting both inmates and staff alike.”
“Oh, how long is the sentence?” Fanny enquired.
“Fourteen years. His co-accused, Smith, is doing five. They were both charged and found guilty of robbing a bank and shooting two police officers in the line of duty, who thankfully, were lucky not to be killed. I know the pair of old. They served time in Polmont Borstal when I was AG there in 1971. They were both disruptive and caused considerable grief to the staff by constantly undermining the smooth and efficient running of the institution, if my memory serves me well. That’s another reason for the tightening of security, Miss Flaw. Taylor, the one serving fourteen years, will be more of a challenge than the ones you are obviously referring to.”
“Taylor? Would that be John Taylor and his co-accused, Samuel Smith, by any chance, Governor?” Fanny asked, surprised.
“Why, yes, I believe that’s them. The Smith one, whose nickname I believe is Silent, is a strange mute that should’ve been put in Carstairs State Mental Hospital a long time ago. Why? Do you know them?”
“Er, I think so, if they’re the same ones. They were in Thistle Park Approved School when I worked there in 1968,” she replied.
“Well, you won’t have long to wait. I believe Smith is arriving down from Longriggend later today,” The Governor informed her.
“Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.
Give bosses a massage is the recipe essential to a good business relationship between bosses and secretaries because it helps relieve tension, it was claimed today. Integrated Consultants, of Russell Square in London, who plan to open an office in Glasgow next month, are planning to pay up to £70 so that managers and their secretaries can attend a two-day course that includes secretaries giving their boss a massage. Mr Mark Mathews, a director in the firm said that secretaries should be able to give their bosses a neck massage for general tension relief. In return, the boss should be able to massage his secretary’s hand for her after she’s been typing all day…
Two conmen have been sentenced to a total of six months each after being found guilty of using fake ID to talk their way into the homes of old age pensioners in different parts of the city in the past year. The victims, all female, some as old as ninety years, were robbed of their savings as one conman kept them talking, whilst the other ransacked their homes. Peter Henderson and Douglas Baker, both 32, from Dundee, deny the charges…
City councillors are supporting the call to have a statue erected in memory of the late JP Donnelly, one of the city’s most colourful characters, who was a respected and revered councillor in the city between 1935 and 1969 before the boundaries in his ward in the Townhead were changed as a result of the slum clearances during the mid to late sixties. Councillor Donnelly was a champion on behalf of those forced to live in squalor before and after the war. Councillor Donnelly died peacefully in an old folk’s home on Monday…
Two seventeen-year-old youths have been sentenced to be detained during Her Majesty’s Pleasure at the High Court in Glasgow today after being found guilty of stabbing two rival gang members in Lochend Road, Easterhouse, in April. A fight broke out after one of the youths called seventeen-year-old James Hamilton’s girlfriend a cow. One of the youths later died in the city’s Royal Infirmary of multiple stab wounds…
Two young nurses were assaulted in the casualty department of Glasgow Royal Infirmary last night as they attended to a forty-one-year-old mother of five who had just been admitted with facial and head injuries. Police later charged a forty-two-year-old man with attempting to murder his common-law wife and assaulting two hospital staff…”
Chapter Fifteen
“Right, what do we have here, Margaret?” Dr McKenzie asked the nurse, as he breezed intae the emergency room.
“An injured prisoner wae whit appears tae be a blunt force trauma tae the tap ae his heid, Doctor,” the nurse replied, looking up fae where she’d been peering, trying tae find whit part ae the skull the blood wis oozing oot ae.
“Right, let’s get those clothes off him,” the doctor commanded, pulling oot a pen-torch fae his breast pocket, as Margaret and another nurse started cutting the patient’s troosers, beginning at the ankles.
The doctor opened the patient’s right eyelid wae his thumb and shone the torch intae it, conscious ae the rasping sound coming fae the back ae his throat. He wis relieved tae detect spontaneous eye movement. The patient’s pupil constricted at the intrusion ae the bright light. The doctor then leaned o’er further and peered closely at the tap ae the skull, using the torch tae highlight the tracks ae his fingers. There wur two lacerated splits, oozing blood, consistent wae being inflicted by a blunt instrument, such as a truncheon.
“Has he been sick…vomiting?” he asked the prison officer at the door, returning tae look intae the patient’s eyes wae the torch again.
“Ah’m no sure…Ah think so.”
“Ah’m sorry, bit ye’re gonnae hiv tae remove them,” Margaret the nurse, said tae another screw.
“Ah’ve been telt that Ah’ve tae stay attached tae him until he’s back in Longriggend,” the prison officer replied.
The doctor looked up. He hidnae noticed the prison officer staunin beside the patient when he’d arrived. The prisoner wis naked noo, except fur the blue striped shirt that wis hinging fae his left erm. Margaret wis staunin wae her scissors held aloft, looking intae the eyes ae the prison officer. It wis then that the doctor noticed that the prisoner’s erm wis attached by the wrist tae the uniformed prison officer by a set ae hauncuffs. The doctor moved tae allow wan ae the nurses tae attach a saline drip tae the patient’s right erm. Fae where he wis staunin, the doctor could see the whole ae the prisoner’s naked body, lying oan the trolley. He’d worked in casualty departments in some ae the busiest hospitals in the West ae Scotland, bit even he wis shocked at the extent ae the injuries oan display in front ae him. The patient looked as if he’d been involved in a major automobile accident. He felt the anger well up inside him. He wisnae too sure how auld the patient wis due tae the injuries and dried blood oan his face, bit two months earlier, the team hid been lucky tae save the life ae a young prisoner who’d been rushed in wae similar injuries.
“I don’t care if God Almighty himself gave you instructions, you’re in our hospital and what we say goes in here. Take those handcuffs off now!” the doctor ordered.
“He’s a category A, dangerous prisoner, who’s under oor care. Noo, if ye’re telling us ye cannae patch him up doctor, then that’s fair enough. We’ll jist take him tae somewan who knows whit tae dae,” Bob Mackintosh, the SO said fae the doorway, as aw heids turned back tae Doctor McKenzie.
“Anne, alert theatre and x-ray that we’ll be bringing a patient down shortly, once we get the patient’s breathing under control. In the meantime, Margaret, can you call Mr Blair, the consultant, and get him down here immediately please? And while you’re at it, call the police,” the doctor said, as the two nurses disappeared.
“Ah’m only acting under orders, so Ah am,” the SO growled, in way ae an apology.
“Right, what’s his name?”
“Er…”
“His name, I need a name,” the doctor demanded, as Margaret arrived back, gieing the doctor a wee nod.
“Er, Taylor. Ah think they call him Johnboy,” the officer, still cuffed tae the prisoner volunteered.
Margaret squeezed past the guard and bent doon close tae the prisoner’s ear.
“Johnboy? Johnboy, can ye hear me? Ye’re in the hospital, son. We’re gonnae try and help ye, get ye sorted oot and aw that,” she said gently intae his ear.
“Anything?” the doctor asked her.
“Johnboy, it’s Nurse Ballantine. Kin ye hear me, son? Kin ye remember yer name?” she cooed gently in his ear.
“What’s that? Can you make out what he’s saying, Margaret?” the doctor asked, leaning closer.
“Ah’m no sure,” she replied, looking up
at the doctor. “Johnboy, it’s Nurse Ballantine. Kin ye speak up, darling? Whit’s yer name, son?” she asked the patient gently, before bending forward and putting her ear closer tae the swollen, cracked lips.
The doctor looked at the uniform-clad people, crammed intae the small emergency room. As well as himsel and the three nurses, there wur two prison guards, wae another wan hovering aboot ootside in the corridor. Everywan wis staunin looking at Margaret.
“Say that again, son?” she asked gently, again putting her ear doon close tae the patient’s mooth, as her eyes darted between the faces ae the people in the room, who wur aw looking doon at her in silent anticipation.
“Margaret?” the doctor whispered.
“He seems tae be mumbling tae himsel. He keeps repeating something that sounds like ‘Silent, naw’…Ah think.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Silent, naw!”
Shit, shit, shit! Too late! The contents ae the inside ae Deck McGuiness’s skull hid awready made a right mess ae Wee Jimmy Tarbuck’s freshly hung, cherry-patterned, vinyl wallpaper, in his newly done-up office in the West End Chinese Laundry across in Finnieston. No that Jimmy seemed tae be gieing a toss aboot that. He wis too busy kicking whit wis left ae Deck’s exploded, empty skull, tae make sure he goat his tuppence worth in before Deck departed this life.
“Take that, ya cunt, ye!” Wee Jimmy screamed, as another bloodied, rubber-soled, welly boot sent Deck’s bloody heid bouncing aff ae the cherry wallpaper jist above the skirting board again.
Johnboy looked doon, aghast, his eyes being drawn tae the smudged, blood soaked wallpaper like a magnet. Deck’s heid hid left a bloody, spongy, roond, wet imprint oan the wall where it hid bounced aff ae it efter Jimmy hid used it fur penalty practice. It reminded Johnboy ae when he wis a wee boy, kicking an auld, wet and soaking leather bladder fitba through aw the puddles, up against the tall concrete wall ae the Stow College ae Hairdressing car park up in North Fredrick Street in the rain. Johnboy’s eyes wur further taken prisoner, as they travelled up the cherry-patterned wall towards the ceiling. At heid height, there wis a big bloody splatter, wae bits ae white stuff and whit looked like hauf ae Deck’s fine heid ae hair, smattering upwards oan tae the pristine white, newly-emulsioned ceiling.