by Todd, Ian
“Whit’s wrang? No interested because there isnae any pictures?” Pat asked.
“Naw…nae tits.”
“So, whit’s the score wae the chickens, Snappy?” Tony asked him.
“Aw the wans fur the maws and their pals hiv been getting delivered throughoot the day. Jake and Ben’s wee brothers hiv been drapping them aff. Ah also put wan in tae each tae they auld wans who saw whit happened tae Joe.”
“And the rest?”
“Hauf ae them goat picked up aff the freezer wagons fae Henderson’s milk depot a few days ago, doon at the bottom ae Millarbank Street. The other hauf will aw be gone by the morra.”
“Who took them?” Pat asked.
“Wee Eck Thomas fae across in Milton. The wee greedy bampot went in the huff because he couldnae get them aw. He said he wanted first shout if we goat any mair and Jimmy Tadpole fae Burmulloch wis the same. He said he’d take aw we kin get oor hauns oan.”
“Is that no a wee bit risky, dealing wae somewan fae that Milton crowd, Snappy?” Pat asked him.
“Naw, naw, Wee Eck’s sound as a pound, so he is. He hates The Simpsons mair than we dae. Naw, we’re aw right there, so we ur,” Snappy assured them, jist as Simon arrived.
“Simon, we’ve been sitting here fur hauf an hour, waiting fur ye tae grace us wae yer company, ya prick, ye.”
“Shut yer arse, Snappy, Ah’m here noo,” Simon said, sitting oan the erm ae the couch, as Snappy haunded him the ring.
“Is this the r…?”
“Aye!” Pat and Snappy baith said at wance.
“Right, Ah’ve goat good news and bad news,” Tony announced as they quietened doon.
“Ye goat yer Nat King at last?” Simon asked, tae laughter.
“Aye, that maw ae yours disnae hauf scream the place doon when she’s getting pumped,” Tony replied, smiling. “Anyway, Ah finally managed a meeting wae The Big Man himsel last night, so Ah did.”
“Aboot bloody time,” Simon growled, as the others looked startled at Tony’s announcement, nodding in agreement wae Simon.
“Aye, well, it wis touch and go. He’s been oot ae the country, wid ye believe? He’s jist back, bit listen up. Nowan kin breathe a word that he’s been away or that he’s back. Even Shaun Murphy isnae aware that he’s back oan the go,” Tony said, putting up the palms ae baith ae his hauns tae stoap them smothering him in questions.
“Right, shut the fuck up. Oan ye go, Tony,” Pat said, nodding across fur him tae continue.
Tony telt them aboot Baby Huey’s visit and his wee taxi ride in the van wae a pillowcase o’er his napper. He ootlined his conversation wae The Big Man and then hesitated fur a second, before telling them that Toby wis oot ae the picture and that they’d been offered tae take Tam Simpson oot insteid. This caused a flurry ae everywan talking at wance. This time Tony knew jist tae sit back and let them talk and argue amongst themsels.
“Well, that’s us fucked good and proper, so it is.”
“Why the hell should it be? Whether it’s Toby or that big brother ae his, Ah don’t gie a fuck. Toby widnae hiv done anything withoot Tam gieing him the go-aheid in the first place.”
“Bit, it wis Toby that goat Joe, so it wis.”
“Bit behind Toby, it’s Tam who’s trying tae put us oot ae business. He’s the main wan, as far as Ah’m concerned, so he is.”
“It’s the two ae them.”
“Ah say we jist go aheid and blast baith ae the basturts. Fuck The Big Man. He’s lost it. They Simpsons hiv been trampling aw o’er Springburn fur yonks noo.”
“Unless ye kin dae away wae the two ae them at the same time, we’re fucked. And who’s tae say that they bears ae theirs won’t come fur us, even if we dae manage tae get shot ae Tam and Toby, eh?”
“Whit else did he say, Tony?” Simon finally asked, as aw eyes searched Tony’s face fur further news.
“He says that he’ll deal wae Toby fae his end, as long as we gie him forty eight hours’ notice, in advance ae Tam copping it…and we cannae take him oan the street when he’s oan his way tae midnight mass either.”
“Is that any street?”
“Aye.”
“Dis that include running the basturt o’er?”
“He says it his tae be oot ae sight ae anywan. He brought up Waterloo Street mair than a few times as an example ae whit no tae dae,” Tony said, eye-balling Snappy. “He said he disnae want tae attract too much bad publicity, especially if there’s weans and families oan the go.”
“If he’s looking fur forty eight hours’ notice, then he must be pretty confident ae getting his hauns oan that prick, Toby,” Simon turned and said tae Pat, as everywan quietened doon, and focussed back oan Tony.
“He wis quite casual aboot it wance he gied us the go-aheid. Before that, Ah practically hid tae beg the basturt. It wis only efter Ah casted up everything that masel, Joe, Silent and Johnboy hid done fur him o’er the years that he changed his tune. He’s a strange fucker, so he is.”
“If ye staun back and look at it, it makes sense. He knows that we couldnae go and waste jist wan ae The Simpsons. The place wid go up in smoke and he’d end up hivving tae get involved anyway. Despite whit Snappy says aboot nae bothering aboot Wee Eck Thomas, he’s wan ae Blaster Mackay’s boys, who we aw know ur allied tae the Possil crowd and won’t staun back and see any ae The Simpsons getting taken oot,” Pat chipped in.
“Aye, bit if the two Simpsons ur wiped oot at the same time, that wid leave the Milton crowd oan their ain, staunin there haudin their cocks wae naewhere tae put them. Why the fuck wid they want tae get involved? Who wid they be supporting then? Jo Jo Robson and Frisky Frank? Somehow, Ah cannae see that happening, no if The Big Man is involved,” Snappy threw in.
“Ah widnae be in a hurry tae dismiss that pair ae basturts. They could still get hauf ae Possil behind them. That Mad Malky is still running aboot wae some poor guy’s scalp hinging aff ae his trooser belt, so he is,” Simon reminded them.
“Okay, where ur ye coming fae then, Tony?” Pat finally asked.
“We need tae get oor thinking caps oan before they basturts hiv another pop at us. Efter whit happened tae Joe, they’ll be happy wae any ae us, even though it’s me they really want.”
“Ye should’ve heard that Toby wan, ranting like the psycho he is, in Burns’s the other night there. Ah thought he wis gonnae burst a blood vessel. The madness wis oozing oot ae him. He couldnae finish his pint because ae aw the slobber that wis flying oot ae that mad foaming mooth ae his. Tony’s right, Toby and Jo Jo made it clear that they wur gonnae start oan us, unless Tony agreed tae meet up wae them…jist fur a chat...tae clear the air, wance and fur aw,” Simon telt them again, tae smirks fae the others.
“We need tae furget Toby and start working oot how we get tae Tam. We need tae find oot whit his movements ur, where he goes during the day and if he’s oan his lonesome at any time. And remember, we cannae let anywan know that we’re sniffing aboot. They basturts ur no daft, so they’re no. Wan whisper and they’ll be doon oan us like a ton ae bricks. We hiv tae get the info quickly, withoot showing oor haun. That’s the priority.”
“Whit aboot Peter, Ben and Jake?”
“Whit aboot them?” Tony asked.
“They’re aw in this as well. They’ll be well pissed aff that we’ve left them oot ae this and they don’t know whit the score is,” Snappy added, looking across at Simon and Pat, who nodded in agreement.
“Ah think we’ve goat tae deal wae this ma way. Ah’ve nae problem involving them, bit let’s leave it the noo. Ah don’t want everywan running aboot trying tae find oot whit the fuck Tam Simpson’s up tae. It’ll be too obvious. We need tae try and keep things the way they ur,” Tony emphasized.
“Like gaun aboot keeping oor heids doon and the tails between oor legs?” Snappy asked sarcastically.
“We’ll bring them in tae it nearer the time,” Tony said, ignoring the catty remark. “The less people who know whit the score is jist noo, the better.”
&nbs
p; “So, whit ur ye really saying, Tony?” Pat asked, the three ae them looking intently at him.
“Look, Ah’m no suggesting that any ae them widnae dae a good job. Ma instinct is tae keep the numbers involved in this tae a minimum fur the time being. If word goat oot that it wis us that let it slip that Pat Molloy is back oan the scene, we’re fucked. We kin tell the others whit’s gaun oan and involve them wance we know mair aboot whit we’re daeing, in a day or two. They won’t hiv a problem wae that. And another thing…they pair ae wankers, The Stalker and Bumper, ur sniffing aboot, so we hiv tae watch whit we’re daeing, a lot mair than usual.”
As they wur leaving, Pat held back. Tony thought it wis tae haun back the ring and hiv a discussion aboot how much he could get fur it as Pat wis the jewellery expert.
“So, where did the ring come fae, Tony?”
“A hoose doon in the West End.”
“Ah know that, bit whit Ah mean is, who passed it oan tae yersel?”
“Ah promised no tae say.”
“Ye did, did ye?”
“Aw, c’mone, Pat.”
“Naw, this is important. Tell me who passed oan the ring?”
“Harper Harris.”
“So, it wis him. It’s funny, bit Ah knew it wid be him. He wis in the pub looking fur ye, the night Joe goat chibbed...and then he wis back the night efter. He jist aboot hid kittens when Frisky Frank walked in and telt Simon that Toby Simpson and Jo Jo Robson wis waiting across in Burns’s. How much wis he asking fur it?”
“A hunner.”
“Well, it’s worth that, any day ae the week. Did ye cough up the money?”
“Naw. Ah telt him that Ah’d need tae speak tae yersel first. Ah didnae know that it wis worth five grand at the time.”
“Right, well, that’s a good omen. Maybe oor luck is changing fur the better. Harper Harris is oor man, if we want tae know whit Tam Simpson’s movements ur these days.”
“Ye think so?”
“Oh aye, bit we’ll need tae tread carefully though. Harper’s a right fearty, so he is, bit he fucking hates The Simpsons. Apart fae Tam breaking his fingers fur trying tae wangle an extra couple ae bob oot ae him o’er a deal wae a couple ae candlesticks, it wis Tam and Toby that murdered that brother-in-law ae his, Hawkeye Campbell. It wis them that nailed the poor basturt tae a door, efter torturing him fur ages somewhere, before dumping his body up in some field in Lambhill. When ur ye meeting up wae him?”
“The night, wance ye haun o’er a hunner quid,” Tony replied, wae a smile oan his coupon.
“Where aboot?”
“The Scotia Bar, doon beside the Clyde.”
“The Scotia? Whit wid ye want tae go aw the way doon there fur?”
“As ye’ve jist said yersel, he’s nervous and wants tae go somewhere where he wullnae be recognised. He says that it’s aw folk singers and hippies that drink in there and that he disnae think any ae The Simpson crowd wid be intae aw that guff.”
“Right, Ah’m gaun wae ye. It’ll be interesting tae hear whit he’s saying.”
“That’s fair enough wae me. Ah don’t really know him and his nervousness makes me nervous.”
Chapter Twenty Three
“Whit’s yer thinking then, Tony?” Pat asked, looking aboot, as the bell behind the bar clanged and the lights flickered fur last orders.
“It’s better hearing it live than listening tae it oan record. The last time Ah heard ‘Geordie’s Byre’, Ah wanted tae become an arsonist, so Ah did.”
“Naw, Ah’m no talking aboot the music, Ah’m talking aboot the no-show wae that prick, Harper,” Pat said, as another wraith-boned lassie, who looked like a junkie, started screeching aboot some bonnie lad fae the isles, who went aff tae fight, bit never returned.
“Jesus, ye’d need tae bloody-well drag me back screaming if Ah knew Ah wis gaun back tae that voice ae hers. Right, the same again, Pat?” Tony asked, finishing aff his pint and staunin up.
“Ah don’t feel comfortable in a place like this. Aw these beards and silent lassies wae big eyes gies me the willies, so they dae,” Pat grumbled, as Tony disappeared and returned wae a couple ae pints ae lager.
“Believe you me, Pat, they’re probably aw thinking the same aboot yersel, sitting there in yer Ben Sherman shirt, Levi Sta-Prest troosers and black Crombie coat, looking like something oot ae ‘The Untouchables.’ Fuck, ye even make me feel uncomfortable and Ah know ye.”
“If Ah wis supposed tae be collecting a hunner quid, Ah’m sure Ah’d be here early. Where the fuck is he?” Pat wanted tae know, getting a few disapproving glances fae the hushed and respectful faces who wur soaking up the words ae another miserable tale fae the skinny lassie.
“So, tell me aboot Harper Harris then, Pat?”
“There isnae much tae tell. He screws anything that isnae nailed doon, although it’s maistly fae hooses. He started tae build up a good wee customer base fur quality stuff a few years back, before he goat intae a wee tangle wae Tam Simpson. Ah don’t really know him masel. He wis jist getting oot ae the quality end ae the market when Ah done a few deals wae him. It wis mainly rings, brooches, necklaces…that kind ae stuff. Aw tap quality stuff and then it dried up. Ah goat asked tae supply a necklace wae matching earrings through Peter. He’d said that some rich guy fae oot in Bearsden wis looking tae gie his wife a fancy anniversary present oan the cheap. Peter hid been hassling me fur ages, and Ah asked Harper tae see whit he could come up wae. It wis aroond aboot that time that Tam Simpson snapped his fingers in hauf, and efter that, the quality stuff dried up.”
“Did ye manage tae get the stuff fur Peter’s guy?”
“Oh, aye, eventually. Ah goat a nice matching set, including a brooch, oot ae a swanky place across in Queen’s Park. Hivving somewan like Harper close by wid’ve been fine and dandy though. Ah never dealt wae him efter that. He went back tae dealing in shite like kettles, cameras, cutlery sets…the usual stuff that nowan wae any sense wants. Whit a waste, eh?”
“Well, it disnae look like he’s gonnae show up noo. Ah wonder whit’s gaun oan? Whit ye’re saying aboot him being nervous as fuck stauns up. He wis shaking like a leaf when Ah met wae him. He couldnae wait tae get oot ae the door ae Jonah’s when he haunded o’er the ring. He practically threw it at me and then fucked aff as if the bizzies wur awready oan his trail. Ah thought he wis setting me up at first. Ah asked Senga Jackson tae haud oan tae it fur me and then collected it later oan that night. Ah hauf expected the polis tae nab me when Ah left the pub.”
“So, whit’s happening wae Johnboy and Silent then? Ah heard they’ve ended up in the digger.”
“Aye, the stupid basturts,” Tony scowled, taking a sip ae his lager. “Ah bloody-well warned that Johnboy no tae fuck aboot before him and Silent wur sent doon. He fucking knows how serious aw this shite wae The Simpsons is. He never listens tae a bloody thing Ah say. Ah heard that him and Silent put glue in aw the cell doors ae the wing they wur in and ended up losing seven days’ remission as well as being banged up. That’s aw we fucking need jist noo. If that pair ae diddies make it oot ae Polmont oan Hogmanay, it’ll be a bloody miracle, so it will.”
“If he’s in the digger, then that should keep the daft basturt oot ae trouble.”
“Aye, well, Ah widnae put money oan that… wid you?”
Chapter Twenty Four
The Rat wis jist coming tae the end ae the second page ae the report that he’d convinced Tom Bryce tae let him hiv fur longer than whit wis originally agreed, when he noticed he’d dribbled the milk aff ae his spoonful ae cornflakes doon the front ae his tie.
“Aw, fur Christ’s sake!” he cursed under his breath, staunin up and scurrying across tae the sink in his bedsit fur a cloth tae wipe it aff before it dried in.
He returned tae the table, lit up a fag, and continued fae where he’d left aff. There wisnae much tae go oan, although it wid’ve made a good front page fur The News Ae The World. Paper magnate pumping Lady X, efter haunin o’er a sapphire and diamond encrusted ring as a
token ae his lusty love, even though the baith ae them wur awready hitched. He picked his nose wae the pinkie ae his left haun and let oot a snigger. The report said that, although the polis wur aware that there hid been a break-in and that the ring hid been stolen, nae official complaint hid been made tae them as a result ae the said break-in. He could jist imagine Daddy Jackson and they other plods scrambling aboot, trying tae find oot where the hoose wis and whose ring it wis that hid been nicked. The report in his haun wis obviously a copy and the name ae the private dick who’d carried oot the initial quick investigation hid been redacted oot. He held the page up against the light fae the windae tae try and see if he could see the ootline ae a name at the bottom ae the page, bit whitever hid been used tae block the author’s name oot hid worked. He’d tried tae get the name ae the private dick fae Tom Bryce, bit he’d denied he knew who it wis.
“Bit, Tom, it wid save me gaun o’er auld ground if Ah could talk tae whoever it wis that did the initial report,” he’d whined.
“Look, Sammy, Ah’ve telt ye. Ah don’t know who the fuck it wis. Whit ye’ve goat is whit Ah’ve goat. Ye’re getting paid tae find oot who took it and tae get it back pronto. The reward is bound tae come up wae something that’ll help ye oot. Christ, this should be a walk oan Glesga Green fur somewan ae your stature and reputation, so it should.”
“Why the hell wid they leave the names ae the love-bird victims involved, bit black oot the investigator, eh?” he’d asked.
“How wid Ah know? Obviously whoever took the ring wid’ve known who they wur, no furgetting the private dick who’d hid tae interview the baith ae them. Who cares? Go and get the bloody ring back, insteid ae polluting up ma good office, fur Christ’s sake.”
He’d been tossing and turning aw night in his kip, trying tae work oot his starting point. The job hid come his way jist at the right time. He wid tackle the situation using a two-pronged approach. The first thing tae dae wid be tae blanket his loose contacts...put oot the word tae the wans that might pick up something like a passing comment in a pub, or who might know somewan who knew somewan, who wid know something...fur a price. The second approach wid be tae go through his contact list ae definites...shady fuckers who wur involved at street level and who hid their lugs tae the ground, who knew whit wis gaun oan and mair importantly, wid be able tae tell him who’d be able tae pull aff a job like this. How many crooks could there be oot there who could pick a lock? His search wid involve legwork and plenty ae it, bit if he wis lucky, he’d pick up a trail by the end ae the day. He looked across at the clock beside his unmade bed. It wis twenty past eight in the morning. He’d jist started tae make up his two pub lists when he heard the knock doon at the front door at the bottom ae the stairs. He strained his ears, bit couldnae make oot whit wis being said. He heard auld Mrs Cookson’s voice and then two male voices. He stood up and walked across tae the windae and peered through the net curtains that hid clearly no been washed since they’d been put up, forty tae fifty years earlier. He heard footsteps…two sets…climbing the stairs, pausing briefly, before walking towards his door at the end ae the landing. He felt his sphincter stretch as he stumbled backwards, grasping the wee round knob oan the painted wooden windae shutters tae steady himsel, as he watched the moving shadows ae the feet in the gap between the flair and the bottom ae the door. The knock, though quiet, sounded like bell hammers ringing in his ears.