by Todd, Ian
“Right, whit’s gaun oan here?” Stafford asked again, keeping his voice even, obviously no wanting tae alert the lazy uniformed basturts up at the back, in case he escalated an awready deadly situation.
Johnboy made a point ae never taking an interest in anything the screws said or did in Dumfries, bit he admired Stafford fur the way he wis dealing wae whit wis being played oot in front ae him. It wis obvious that Stafford wis too long in the tooth tae be able tae cope wae a riot in his workshoap. It wis well-known amongst YOs that screws like Stafford and Bliss, who ended up in the workshoaps, couldnae cope wae working oan the landings fur a variety ae reasons. Fur some, it wis because they’d been assaulted or even worse, caught up in a siege situation and their nerves hid been shot tae pieces. Stafford, being the auld haun that he wis, knew fine well that if he raised his voice and drew the attention ae the other screws, then the shit unfolding before him, wis gonnae explode and a riot wid probably break oot.
“Dickheid’s trying tae embarrass me by pulling me up in front ae everywan fur looking efter the new boy,” Snappy thankfully said, breaking the impasse.
“Mr Dick?” Stafford asked the SO, keeping that tone ae his neutral.
“Ah’m no here tae take shite fae the likes ae him,” Dickheid’s voice quavered and whined, pleading fur Stafford tae back him up.
“Ah telt young Johnston tae show the new boy the ropes oan the machine. It involves communicating wae him by telling him whit tae dae. If ye’ve goat a wee problem wae that, then Ah suggest we talk aboot it in the office,” Stafford replied, face ashen, nodding towards the office.
Johnboy wanted tae gie Stafford an applause fur the way he’d gied Dickheid the go-aheid tae walk away towards the office, unscathed, bit insteid, he wanted tae burst oot laughing in disbelief. It wis painful tae watch. Stafford hid gied him an oot withoot losing face and still the stupid basturt didnae bite. Everywan should’ve been back tae whit they wur daeing before the commotion started. Johnboy could tell that Snappy wis jist a baw hair away fae pouncing oan the SO. Tae make matters worse, unlike Stafford, Tony hid clearly decided no tae intervene tae calm the situation doon, so the game wis still oan wae Dickheid caught in the triangle ae Silent, Snappy and Tony. Johnboy wondered if he should butt-in, bit decided no tae. He couldnae be arsed wae aw the grief that Snappy wid’ve gied him o’er the next month, so he held his sooth, and jist decided tae go alang wae whitever wis gonnae come oot ae it. He’d hid his eye oan Robert The Beast fur a wee while noo. The Mankys hid awready decided amongst themsels that if the shit hit the fan, then Robert The Beast, oot ae aw the stoat-the-baws, wid be the wan tae cop it first. Aw The Mankys hid agreed that Snappy wid hiv first bite. In a situation where Snappy wisnae in a position tae dae the business, then the closest Manky tae The Beast wid take that oan. There wis a four foot long, quarter ae an inch thick steel ruler, that wis used tae smooth oot the cloth before it wis cut, lying oan the cutting bench tae the left ae Joe The Rat, the baby snatcher. Johnboy hid decided that that wis the weapon ae choice that he wis gonnae use oan Robert The Beast’s heid, and hopefully a few others up at the cutting table, when everything kicked aff and the security screws ran doon tae try and save Dickheid Dick efter Snappy hid pounced.
“Ah’m in charge ae the security situation in this workshoap, Mr Stafford,” Dickheid suddenly whined fearfully, realising that support wisnae forthcoming, and that he wis jist seconds away fae either being seriously injured or worse, killed.
“Aye, and Ah’m working tae a tight deadline here, so Ah am, Mr Dick. There’s a thirty thousand bandolier contract coming up and we need tae make sure we finish this contract well in advance tae be in wae a shout fur it or it’ll end up gaun up tae Perth,” Stafford said through clenched teeth, pleading wae Snappy wae they eyes ae his, ignoring the SO, face as white as a ghost, as the sweat pished aff ae the tip ae his nose.
Aw eyes wur oan Snappy. It wis his call. Johnboy willed him tae back aff. Johnboy’s freedom depended oan these buggers being freed as soon as possible. If Dickheid Dick wis attacked, they’d probably add years oan tae everywan’s sentences.
“Fucking prick,” Snappy growled, staring intensely at the SO, making it abundantly clear that he wisnae prepared tae back doon, as Dickheid Dick’s face turned away.
And wae that, it wis aw o’er. Dickheid scampered aff past Silent, slinging Stafford, who wis also an SO, a filthy look oan the way past. Snappy turned aroond wae a big grin spread across his coupon and went back tae hivving a laugh wae Stu, as Tony swivelled back roond tae face his machine and started sewing up his hauf-finished bandolier. Although the confrontation hid only lasted aboot two or three minutes, Johnboy knew the ramifications could’ve lasted fur years. Johnboy knew fine well that there wis too many screws in the workshoap, aw carrying batons, fur any fight tae hiv been left tae fists and feet. Johnboy wondered why prison officers never referred tae each other by their first name’s in front ae prisoners. It wis really strange, he thought, as he turned roond tae face his machine.
“That’s good, Silent, well done,” Stafford stammered tae Silent, efter resuming his inspection task, his voice clearly still shaky.
“Haw, haw, ye’ve goat tae listen tae whit the wee man is spouting here, Tony,” Snappy said, turning, as The Giggle Twins cracked up again in fits ae cackling.
“Watch oot, here comes the teacher’s favourite bum-boy,” Tony sniggered, as Silent slid back intae his seat beside Snappy, the commotion wae Dickheid awready forgotten aboot.
Johnboy looked at the new YO, who’d jist arrived doon fae E-Hall in Barlinnie, where he’d been waiting tae get assessed efter being sentenced tae seven years fur attempted murder. Aw The Mankys knew Stu and liked him, especially efter whit hid happened tae wan ae Honest John’s son’s-in-law, Tibbs McPherson.
Efter getting the nod fae Wan-bob that it wid be okay tae hiv a go at Honest John, The Mankys hidnae fucked aboot. Aw The Mankys knew that Honest John loved his fitba, especially Partick Thistle. As well as nipping across tae Firhill fur aw the home games every Saturday, the honest appliance master travelled aw o’er Scotland oan The Maryhill Tavern’s Partick Thistle supporters’ bus tae aw the away games. It kept him in touch wae the great unwashed oan the street, who he liked tae impress, as well as allowing him a wee swally while repeatedly chanting oot the only two tunes The Jags fans hid in their repertoire. The Mankys hid finally agreed oan their grand plan, efter pishing themsels laughing when Johnboy hid explained tae Simon how they wur gonnae rob Honest John ae his Saturday’s takings fae the big shoap oan Dumbarton Road. Johnboy hid explained tae them aboot his meeting wae Senga Jackson’s uncle, Jim Sweeney, oan Keppochhill Road. The plan hid been pretty straightforward. Johnboy smiled, remembering the big cheesy grins that hid appeared oan their faces when he’d telt them that Honest John wis getting a full set ae fancy electric tills installed in his shoap and that The Mankys wur gonnae take the big greedy basturt tae the cleaners by getting somewan tae pull the plug oan the electricity that fed the street, including Honest John’s shoap, ten minutes before it wis due tae shut up fur the night, locking any till drawer shut that wisnae awready open oan the Saturday…Honest John’s busiest day ae the week.
“Will Honest John no be oan the go?” Simon wanted tae know.
“Naw, he’ll be travelling back fae watching The Jags play East Fife, oot in Methil,” Johnboy hid replied, as the grins goat wider.
“Wance the electricity is cut tae the building, aw the tills ur fucked and they won’t be able tae open them until the juice is switched back oan. Maist ae the customers will be gone by that time, so the tills will be sitting there, full ae the days takings. It’ll mean they’ll hiv tae leave the dosh in the shoap overnight, until Honest John arrives tae sort the problem oot,” Tony hid chipped in, laughing.
“And when that happens, three ae us will be hiding in wan ae the locked store rooms that ur scattered aboot the shoap. Wance the place is locked up, we jist come oot ae oor wee hidey hole and help oorsels,” Johnboy hid
said, haudin up a storeroom door key.
“Will the place no be bugged?” Pat hid wanted tae know.
“Why wid somewan like Honest John go tae the expense ae getting an alarm put in? Who the fuck wid be daft enough tae rob him?” Snappy hid asked, tae mair guffaws.
“So, whit dae we need, Johnboy?” Peter, the Mankys’ runner hid asked.
“A good sparky who knows whit he’s daeing. Somewan we kin trust and who knows how tae keep his mooth shut.”
“Aye, that’s your job, Peter. Make sure there won’t be any trail leading back tae us,” Tony hid said, nodding.
“Nae problem.”
“And who’s gonnae be inside then?” Ben hid asked whit everywan else wis wondering.
“You, Pat and Silent,” Tony hid replied.
“And whit aboot me? There’s nae way Ah’m being left oot ae robbing that big fat cunt,” Simon hid growled, getting a few nods ae agreements in the room.
“Simon, ye’ll be sitting back here, waiting fur a bag ae dosh that’ll allow ye tae go oot and buy as much knocked-aff carpets as ye kin get yer hauns oan. Anywan that’s been anywhere near that shoap or who his hid any contact wae Honest John’s daughters or sons-in-law, is no tae be anywhere near the place. When the shite hits the fan, we don’t want tae be caught in the fall-oot.”
“It’s no the same, no being involved. Ah’m the hurt wan here,” Simon hid protested.
“Look, believe you me, when Honest John comes aff that bus, pished as a fart, tae find oot a dozen ae his brand new electric tills ur lying oan the flair in bits wae nae money in them, any hurt that ye feel will be nothing compared tae the pain in that fat arse ae his,” Tony hid said, as Simon and everywan else in the room burst oot laughing.
“Where did the key come fae then, Johnboy?”
“Ah know wan ae the wummin who works there part-time. She took it hame wae her and Ah goat it cut the next morning. She widnae take any mair than twenty quid, so we aw owe her wan. The storeroom is at the far end ae the second flair oan the Dumbarton Road side. Ye canny miss it. It says gentlemen oan the door and it’s the only wan there is, so there won’t be a problem,” Tony said.
“Whit if somewan wants tae take a slash?”
“They won’t. It’s a storeroom that’s hardly ever used. The only reason he’s goat the sticker oan it, is tae keep The Corporation aff ae his back as he’s supposed tae provide toilets fur customers given the size ae the building. Wance youse hear the shutters oan the front door coming doon, get oot and get tore intae they tills. Don’t fuck aboot noo. There will be plenty ae tools in the parts department that ye kin use as jemmies. Wance ye’re done, jist come oot ae the fire exit roond the back and Ah’ll be sitting waiting fur youse. Peter and me will pick up a car each fae the toon centre, tae make sure everything goes tae plan. I’ll dump the money car across in Possil and switch intae the other wan that’ll be sitting there waiting. Peter will take whoever’s still in the shoap up tae Jonah’s lounge fur a few pints tae celebrate efterwards. Obviously, nearer the time, we’ll hiv mair tae talk aboot, bit in the meantime, any questions?”
“Ah’m still no happy aboot no being involved.”
“Ach, shut yer arse, Simon. This is Johnboy’s silver lining he wis telling ye aboot. It’s you we’re daeing this fur, ya ungrateful fucker, ye,” Snappy hid hit him wae, fair chuffed that he’d goat the last word in.
Two weeks later, oan Saturday the 27th October, which happened tae be the anniversary ae The Titanic sinking, according tae Snappy, Honest John McCaffrey hid ended up oot-ae-pocket by jist under four and a hauf grand. And tae make matters worse, The Jags hid goat humped 2-1 by the Fifers. The job hid gone smoothly, apart fae the fact that Pat, Silent and Ben hid tae practically demolish the fire exit doors tae get oot because ae the steel chains and the padlocked iron bar used tae secure them shut. So much fur Honest John looking efter the welfare ae his staff and customers. The beauty ae robbing somewan like Honest John wis that there wis nae way anywan wis gonnae end up in the jail…maybe deid, bit no charged wae a criminal offence. Honest John widnae hiv wanted the bizzies snooping aboot his place. Efter the job, there hidnae been any great fanfare ae gossip daeing the roonds either. The only thing that hid seemingly confused his staff hid been the return ae the auld run-doon tatty manual tills fae the local scrap-shoap, which hid been sitting oan the coonters oan the Monday morning when they’d turned up fur their work. Behind the scenes, it hid been a different story though. Honest John and they son-in-laws ae his, hid been dishing oot hidings tae anywan who even looked at them the wrang way that following week. Wan-bob hid kept The Mankys up-tae-date oan whit Honest John’s bears wur up tae. As far as The Mankys wur concerned, they didnae seem tae be oan the radar, at least, that’s whit they thought, until the following Saturday night. Snappy hid popped in by Carpet Capers, jist as Simon hid been shutting up shoap. The three transit vans that Simon’d hid oan the road hid aw been oot and aboot, alang wae his big box trailers, which wur being used by his carpet fitters, daeing big jobs that weekend. Snappy hid arranged tae meet up fur a pint wae wan ae the local Maryhill street bookies, John Paul Jerome, in The Tavern, up oan Queen’s Cross. He wis haunin o’er some dosh fur info John Paul hid gied him oan a wagon full ae fags that Snappy and his wee sticky-fingered crew hid hijacked a few weeks earlier. Simon hid suggested they walk, as he’d been stuck in the warehoose aw day. Jist at the junction ae Garscube Road and Possil Road, wan ae Honest John’s son-in-laws, a thick, liberty-taking basturt called Tibbs McPherson, and wan ae his sidekicks, hid confronted Simon o’er the break-in. Tibbs hid been as pished as a fart, which meant there wis nae reasoning wae him plus everywan who knew him knew fine well that the fire-water made Tibbs even mair nasty and dangerous than whit he wis when he wis sober. Snappy hid telt Johnboy he couldnae remember whit Tibbs hid snarled at Simon. Bit, whitever hid been said, it hid led tae Tibbs and Simon squaring up tae each other oan the pavement. Simon hidnae messed aboot and hid whipped oot a Stanley knife and swiped it at Tibbs’s face. Unfortunately fur Honest John’s favourite, fat son-in-law, the blade ae the Stanley knife hid caught him jist under his left earlobe and carried oan doon tae his neck in a sweeping curve, luckily missing his carotid artery, bit unluckily, cutting through his trachea, or windpipe, as the journalist in the spread in the next day’s paper referred tae it as. Tibbs hid hit the cracked pavement like a sack ae dry shite, clutching his neck wae baith hauns, as his kicking legs twirled him roond in a manic circle like a Catherine Wheel as the blood pished oot ae that neck ae his, as he gurgled his last breath in blind panic. Meanwhile, Snappy hidnae been staunin idly aboot either, and hid whipped oot a shooter tae plug Tibbs’s accomplice, who’d been staunin there, pishing in his troosers at the sight ae his pal dying in front ae they bulging eyes ae his. Luckily, when the trigger oan the gun, that hid by noo been pressed hard against the side ae his heid at point blank range, hid jammed, Tibbs’s accomplice hid wailed oot in fear and panic that he hidnae witnessed anything. There hid been a horrible photo splashed across the front page ae The Glesga Echo ae Tibbs McPherson oan the pavement, sitting wae his legs spread open and his back propped up against the wall, below the wee grocers shoap windae, the front ae his white Ben Sherman shirt awash wae blood. Seemingly Tibbs’s pal and the shoapkeeper hid sat him up tae try and somehow revive him. Efter realising the futility ae their efforts, the shoapkeeper hid then gone back in tae his shoap and returned wae a broon paper carrier bag, advertising McKellar’s finest black pudding, and hid placed it o’er Tibbs’s heid. Tibbs McPherson’s pal that night hid been none other than Stu Mackay, who wis noo sitting cackling away wae Snappy in front ae Johnboy and Tony.
“Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.
Undercover firearms officers shot a bank robber, who later died, minutes after arriving at Glasgow Royal Infirmary. Two of the dead man’s accomplices, were arrested at the scene just after eleven o’clock this morning at The Clydeside Bank on th
e corner of Duke Street and Carntyne Road in the east end of the city. The dead man and those arrested have not been named, but police say the men, all in their late teens, are well-known to them. A spokesman for The Civil Liberties Union in Scotland has called for an independent enquiry into the use of firearms by the police and the circumstances in which the young man was killed. Superintendent Daddy Jackson issued a statement from Central HQ stating that through active police intelligence, armed officers put their lives at risk today, protecting the public from armed thugs. Superintendent Jackson said that during the incident, a police officer shot one of the armed gang after being given three warnings to throw down his weapon. An investigation into the shooting is already underway and a report will be submitted to the procurator fiscal in due course. The officer who fired the shot returned to duty shortly after giving a statement to his superiors on his part in the incident…
Authorities in Stobhill General Hospital have stated that there is little chance of recovery after a man was apparently thrown from a speeding car on Colston Road, near Auchinairn late last night. The man, later named as fifty-two-year-old Sandy Murray, was also found to be suffering from multiple stab wounds to his neck and body, when found by passers-by a short distance from the traffic lights on the busy Glasgow to Kirkintilloch Road. Police are appealing for anyone who may…