by Todd, Ian
“Ah…Ah drapped intae The Five Ways, The Bay Horse and The Blythswood and a few others in the toon centre, tae see if there hid been any chat picked up aboot it. Ah goat a wee tip oot ae The Hangman’s Rest, doon in Wilson Street. Shady Aleck telt me that Ah…Ah should concentrate across in the west ae the city...Maryhill or…or Possil, tae be precise. He wis pished as a piss-pot, so Ah couldnae tell if there wis anything in whit he wis saying, or if he wis jist havering or no…there widnae be any chance ae getting a wee aspirin or two fur the pain, wid there?”
“So, why Maryhill or Possil then?” he’d been asked, his request fur medication ignored.
“Shady Aleck said that he only knows three people who could’ve done it and two ae them ur up in the Bar-L. Wan’s waiting trial and wan is daeing six months. The…the fact that he mentioned three possibilities disnae mean tae say that that’s aw the possibilities there is.”
“Whit wis the name ae the third wan then?”
“Ah don’t know. As Ah said…he wis pished and he said he couldnae remember. He said it wis a double-barrelled kind ae name.”
“Right, okay. So, ye heided up tae Maryhill and then whit?”
“Ah jist trooped aboot, gaun in tae a couple ae the bars tae try and get a haundle oan…oan the name.”
“So, where did ye go tae?”
“Ah wis in The Glen Lyon, The Griffin oan Garscube Road, The Gushet and Ah then ended up in The HLI, up at the barracks.”
“And?”
“And nothing. Ah then heided across tae Possil, bit ma arse goat the better ae me efter Ah thought Ah clocked Jo Jo Robson hinging aboot Saracen Cross. Ah then jist jumped oan a forty seven bus, back intae the toon and bumped intae Wan-bob,” he’d groaned, furtively gieing Wan-bob a wee glance, as the sweat pished aff ae him and another tidal wave ae pain shot up and doon his erm fae they back tae front fingers ae his.
“This double barrelled name? Tell me exactly whit Shady Aleck telt ye.”
“He jist said it wis a funny name that rhymed, a name that tripped aff ae yer tongue…some…something like that.”
“So, he never mentioned double barrel, did he?”
“Er, naw, no really, Pat.”
“Then whit the fuck did ye say that fur? Ah’ve telt ye, Sammy…don’t fuck me aboot...Ah’ve no goat the patience tae fuck aboot noo, so Ah hivnae. When Ah ask ye tae tell me something, stick tae the facts and stoap bloody embellishing things.”
“Ah’m…Ah’m sorry, Pat. It’s ma fingers...they’re throbbing like hell. Ah…Ah think Ah’ll need tae get drapped aff at The Royal.”
“Listen, ya bawbag, ye. We’ll decide the amount ae treatment ye’ll need, as and when we’re ready. The way ye’re gaun, there’s still another eight fingers tae add tae yer treatment,” Wan-bob hid snarled.
“It widnae be Harper Harris, wid it?” The Goat hid suddenly asked oot ae the blue.
“Who?” The Rat and The Big Man hid asked at the same time, surprise in their voices.
“H H? Harper Harris? That’s a name wae a ring tae it, plus he’s well-known fur tanning people’s hooses.”
“Who also lives up in Possil,” Wan-bob hid added, smiling.
“And wis that no the name ae the bawbag that Alex The Manager said wis in and oot ae Jonah’s lounge last Thursday and Friday night, looking fur oor wee Tally pal? Noo, why the fuck wid a hoosebreaker like him be across in Springburn, in Jonah’s baith nights, looking fur Tony Gucci, Ah wonder?” The Big Man hid wondered oot loud.
“Dae we know where he lives, Goat?” Wan-bob hid asked.
“Naw. Gucci or some ae that wee ned crew ae his might know though. Ah could always get a haud ae wan ae them tae find oot, if ye want.”
“Naw, naw, let’s keep them oot ae this fur the time being, jist in case oor Tony is pulling a flanker oan us. That includes keeping away fae Possil. We don’t want any ae they Simpson pricks tae find oot that we’re sniffing aboot. Right, Sammy, Ah think it’s aboot time we goat ye doon tae The Royal tae see aboot they fingers ae yers, before that swelling gets any worse. In the meantime, Ah want ye oan the trail ae this Harper Harris wan. Find oot where he’s kipping and whether he’s the wan we’re efter fur the ring. And remember, Ah don’t gie a fuck who’s paying yer wages…ye’re working fur me noo. Hiv ye goat that?”
“A…Aye, Pat,” The Rat hid groaned, feeling faint as the throbbing in his fingers shifted up a gear.
“And another thing...if ye even breathe that ye’ve seen me within the past twelve months, ye’ll be lucky if they even find they fingers ae yours. Hiv ye goat that?”
“Aye, Pat.”
“Right, Ah want yer new address haunded o’er tae Wan-bob and he’ll arrange the times and places fur regular updates. Ah want tae see that ring in the palm ae ma haun within the next few days.”
Efter Wan-bob hid dumped him ootside The Royal, The Rat hid spent the rest ae the efternoon howling in agony, getting x-rayed and they fingers ae his strapped up. He’d picked up painkillers fae the wee chemist shoap across fae The Royal in Glebe Street and heided hame tae his bedsit. He’d need tae be up early the next day tae try and track doon this Harper Harris wan up in Possil, withoot they Simpsons cottoning oan tae whit he wis up tae. If they sussed oot that he wis working fur The Big Man, he’d end up doon in the morgue, minus they bawbags ae his.
Chapter Twenty Six
Harper ordered another pint ae lager fae Big Billy, heid barman in The Auld Hoose oan Keppochhill Road. No only wis he in a quandary, bit he wis shiting himsel big-style. He’d thought that he’d managed tae get Duggie Dougan, The Inspector and The Gruesome Twosome aff ae his back aboot whit wis gaun oan, bit they’d come back fur mair. No only that, bit Jo Jo Robson hid been up at his door, banging the fuck oot ae it, looking fur him as well. He hidnae a clue whit tae dae next. He wis kicking himsel fur no turning up at The Scotia Bar the night before tae collect his hunner quid fae Tony Gucci. The dosh wid’ve come in handy, given the situation he noo found himsel in. He looked up at the clock. Twenty minutes tae go before the pub shut at hauf two. He looked up at the windaes oan either side ae the door. It wis still light ootside. Even wae the snow coming doon, he could still be spotted fae a distance. Whit wis he tae dae? He’d thought he wis in the clear. He’d jist been getting oot ae the bath the night before when he’d heard the thumping oan his door. He’d jumped up oot ae the bathtub and hid stood wae the steam wafting aff ae him as he heard the letterbox open and Jo Jo Robson’s voice.
“Harper? Harper, open up. It’s me…Jo Jo!”
He’d stood rooted tae the spot, trying no tae shite himsel as the loud gurgling ae the water spinning doon the plug hole in the bath hid screamed tae anywan that wis listening, that he wis in.
“Harper! Look, Ah know ye’re in, so open the bloody door, ya daft eejit, ye. Ah’m no gonnae herm ye.”
He’d been tempted tae open the door and try tae blag his way through, bit the assurance ae non-violence hid made his mind up fur him. He knew that whitever that Simpson crowd said, ye should expect the opposite. Efter another five minutes ae the door being ladled intae by fists and feet, he’d heard the footsteps stomping doon the stair. He’d quickly nipped through tae the bedroom at the front ae the hoose and peeped through the curtains doon oan tae the street. He knew that Jo Jo wid be doon there, looking up at his living room windae, which hid the lights oan. The bedroom wis in darkness, so he knew he couldnae be seen. Sure as fuck, Robson hid been staunin oan the pavement oan the opposite side ae the street looking up. He’d been staunin oan his ain, bit that hidnae made Harper feel any better. Jo Jo Robson wis a well-known nasty basturt and whether he’d a blade in his haun or used they fists ae his tae pummel ye intae pulp, whit wis left always required a stretcher. Harper hid lived in Mansion Street fur aboot a year and he liked the location. The bus routes intae the toon fae Balmore Road wur handy, as wur the buses up Hawthorn Street tae take ye intae Springburn. Tae get across intae Maryhill, ye could get a bus fae Bilsland Drive, jist alang fae the picture hoose
oan the corner ae Balmore Road and Hawthorn Street. He could come and go as he pleased, due tae aw the brick dykes in the backs hivving been demolished long ago by aw the local weans. He took full advantage ae this when he didnae want tae be seen. The rent wis cheap and the neighbours left him alane. He’d decided tae leave the living room and bathroom lights oan, jist in case Jo Jo came back. The two bob bit he’d put in the meter wid soon run oot. He’d swithered long and hard o’er whether he should heid intae the toon tae collect his money, bit hid decided against it. He widnae hiv put it past that basturt, Robson, tae hiv been hinging aboot doon in the closemooth, waiting fur him tae sneak oot the back close. He must’ve fallen asleep oan the couch as he’d woken up in a panic jist efter midnight, wae his door being battered again. This time, he’d known it wis the bizzies, due tae the type ae knock. Efter five minutes, they too hid disappeared. There hid been two ae them. He knew it wid’ve been The Gruesome Twosome. He’d hardly slept a wink efter that. Whit the fuck wis gaun oan? Wan day he’d been gaun aboot his usual business ae making ends meet and the next, he’d been a witness tae a murder that hid been carried oot by three ae the maist dangerous basturts in Possil…in the whole ae Glesga…and aw because ae that poxy ring. If he hidnae lifted the ring oot ae the hoose across in the West End, he widnae hiv ended up across in Springburn. He knew better than tae try and claim the reward that hid been offered in The Glesga Echo, and anyway, he’d awready met up wae Tony Gucci and hid passed it across tae him, even if he hidnae collected the dosh. He’d jist been so glad tae hiv goat shot ae it, oot ae his possession.
He wis wondering if he’d hiv the time fur another pint when Big Billy switched the lights aff behind the gantry.
“Time, gentlemen, pleasssse!”
He’d need tae find some cover and pronto. If only he knew how tae get in touch wae Gucci, that wid solve his problem meantime. He’d heard that Gucci wis lying low in a flat across in Petershill Road somewhere. He tried tae work oot how he wis gonnae get across there withoot being clocked. He reckoned he hid two options. He could nip alang Keppochhill Road tae the wee bridge opposite Carlisle Street, which took ye intae Sighthill. Then he could cut through the graveyard oan tae Springburn Road and then straight intae Petershill Road itsel. His other option wis tae nip doon Pinkston Drive, opposite the pub, and get intae Sighthill that way. This second option wis longer, bit he wis less likely tae be clocked by passing cars, carrying bizzies or gangster basturts, especially if they wur oan the lookoot fur him. Hivving made up his mind, he stood up and heided fur the door.
“If anywan’s looking fur ye, hiv ye been in?” Big Billy asked him.
“Naw, no since earlier in the week, Billy, thanks.”
“Nae problem, Harper.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Digger Day Six
It hidnae been a good start tae the day efter he’d slung his mattress oot ae the cell that morning. It hid suddenly dawned oan him, efter scoffing his watery porridge and two slices ae breid, that he didnae hiv a bloody clue whit day it wis or how many days he’d been in the digger. Despite gaun o’er aw the different things that hid happened tae him since he’d ended up in the dungeons...the note fae Freckles, the visit fae the auld foxy vixens, the moose blagging his calendar baws, no hearing the hammering fae the pallet shoap when it wis the weekend...he’d still ended up confused. He’d been sure it wis Tuesday, or then again, it might’ve been the Wednesday. He’d wondered if sleeping during the day and staying up aw night in the dark hid made his confusion better or worse. He must’ve spent aboot two hours, earlier, trying tae get his heid roond the problem. When The AG hid come roond, wae his usual disinterested question and answer session, Johnboy hid tried tae catch a glimpse ae the watch face that Napoleon The Grunter wis wearing oan his wrist, tae see if there wis a wee square calendar date oan it, while he wis picking his nose behind The AG’s back. Jist before The Chief hid banged the door shut efter The AG departed fae his cell, Porky The Pig hid hesitated.
“It’s hauf ten, Taylor,” he’d mumbled gruffly, before they’d made their way tae see Silent next door.
Johnboy hid nipped across tae the door, pressing his lug against it and listened. Hauf ten? Who the fucked cared whit time it wis. It wis the day he wis efter. He’d been hoping that Silent wid crack and ask them whit day it wis. Aw he could hear wis The AG telling Silent that he could suit himsel and that he wisnae bothered whether Silent spoke tae him or no.
“Ye’re nae fooling anywan wae aw this nae-talking crap, Smith. We aw know ye’ve a tongue in that heid ae yers,” he’d heard The Chief snarl, no getting any response back.
Johnboy hid first come across Silent when they’d arrived in Larchgrove Remand Centre oan the same day, when they wur aboot ten years auld. He wis a wee skinny, quiet, frightened soul. He’d been a Care and Protection case. The authorities hid taken him away fae his granny and granda and hid informed him that they didnae want the responsibility ae taking care ae him any mair. Silent hid found oot years later that this hid been a heap ae shite, when a bag belonging tae wan ae the social workers at Thistle Park Approved School hid been left in her car wae aw The Mankys’ and Garngad uglies’ files in it. It hid been this car that Johnboy, Silent, Joe, Tony and Paul hid nicked fae the school when they’d escaped, tae trace doon the basturts that hid set their doo cabin alight, burning Skull Kelly and wan ae the local dugs, Elvis, tae death in it. The report hid stated that Silent hidnae been turning up tae school oan time and that hid been the reason why he’d ended up being put in The Grove, until they could find him an approved school tae go tae. Silent hid also found oot fae the reports that his granny and granda hid fought wae the authorities tae keep him at hame. Johnboy hid saved Silent fae getting that arse ae his humped by wan ae the teachers in the Grove. He also remembered that it hid been touch and go whether Silent wid’ve been accepted by the uglies, efter he’d gone across tae where Silent hid been sitting oan his lonesome in the yard and asked him tae come and play five stanes wae him up beside the Toonheid and Garngad crowd. Johnboy hidnae realised it at the time, bit Care and Protection boys wur like bait tae aw the pervo teachers who wur partial tae perching oan wee innocents like CPs. The survival rate fur CPs wis zilch in places like The Grove. If they wurnae humped by the teachers in the first week, they usually ended up as gofers fur some ae the big hairy-arsed pricks who wur always oan the lookoot fur victims. Everywan in The Grove wis in fur stealing or fighting, while the Care and Protection boys didnae usually hiv a criminal record and so wur like fish oot ae water. When Johnboy hid invited Silent tae join them, some ae the Garngad crowd hidnae been too happy, until Baby Huey hid stepped in efter Silent telt everywan he wis fae the Toonheid. Whit he hidnae telt the daft basturts wis that it wis the Toonheid in Kirkintilloch he wis fae. It hidnae been that long efter that, that Paul McBride, who wis waiting tae get transferred tae St Ninian’s Approved School, hid crashed a chair through wan ae the windaes up in the dining room while everywan wis at their breakfast. Silent, withoot a word tae anywan, hid followed Paul through the broken windae and he’d been wae The Mankys ever since.
He looked up and across tae the door as he detected movement oot ae the corner ae his eye. Even though Johnboy hid gied up oan the baw calendar, he still made up the dough-baws each night so as no tae disappoint Rabbie, the moose, when he came looking tae scrounge a meal. Johnboy lay resting oan his elbow, watching him. The wee cheeky basturt hid decided tae clean his chops before blagging wan ae the breid baws. He wis certainly making himsel at hame. He’d noticed that the moose always took the auldest breid baw, leaving the freshest wans until the next night, or at least, that’s whit Johnboy telt himsel he wis daeing. It wis a smart move. That’s whit Johnboy wid’ve done. It made sense fur Rabbie tae ensure that the food chain lasted as long as possible, before coming back fur his next meal, the following night. Johnboy knew fine well that timing and planning wis everything when yer survival depended oan it. Olive Oyl, his auld teacher…that’s where the ‘wee sleekit, cowrin, tim’
rous beastie’ lines he’d remembered, oot ae the blue, hid come fae. He’d been turning it o’er in that heid ae his fur a few nights, wondering where he’d picked that up fae. Her name wis Miss Hackett, bit she wis the spitting image ae Olive Oyl, Popeye’s wife. He remembered his ma telling him that wance people like Olive wur gone, they wur gone. He didnae appreciate whit she wis telling him at the time. Every Friday efternoon wis Rabbie Burns’ time. She knew every poem aff by heart and used tae sit oan the edge ae her desk telling them whit the stories meant or she’d ask them how they thought the wee moose must’ve felt efter the plough hid destroyed its nest.
“Ah hope ye telt her ‘harassed and homeless,’ jist like the rest ae us aboot here, if that bloody Corporation’s goat anything tae dae wae it,” his ma hid hit him wae before gaun oan tae recite the whole ae ‘A Man’s A Man Fur A’ That,’ efter he’d gone hame and telt her aboot the story ae the moose. He smiled, remembering he’d asked her if she’d gone tae the same school as Miss Hackett.
“Aye, he wis a friend tae the poor, bit wis awful tae the wummin wae aw that philandering ae his,” hid been her last words oan him.
So much fur him thinking that he’d never learned anything at primary school. Johnboy reckoned Olive wis probably the wan that goat him intae aw the black and white horror movies that him and the other Mankys skipped intae The Grafton oan Parly Road tae see. Tam O’Shanter wis everywan’s favourite. He wondered whit hid become ae Olive. She hidnae returned efter the summer holidays hid finished, the year Skull hid died. He thought she’d probably be proud that wan ae her resident thickos hid retained something that she’d taught them.
By the time Johnboy hid finally goat his liberation fae Oakbank, up in Aberdeen, and hid caught up wae Tony and Joe, the Toonheid hid been finished fur them. That hid been nearly two years earlier, and they’d aw been quite happy tae settle up in Springburn. Joe hid moaned like fuck tae start wae, bit Johnboy hid kept pointing oot tae him that if the area that ye wur brought up in hid been demolished when yer back wis turned, whit could ye expect? Ye couldnae jist staun there, waiting fur the grass tae grow under yer feet.