by Todd, Ian
Tony let oot a sigh. Thank Christ he’d insisted that Harper should stay tae gie him a haun. It could’ve shafted them aw up the arse if that stupid prick hid left wae the watch in his pocket.
“Right, Harper, here ye go. Take the end ae this measuring tape and lay it oan the flair this side ae the ootside landing door,” he whispered.
“Whit? Whit the hell ur ye wanting tae measure the flair fur?” Harper asked him.
“Jist dae as ye’re telt,” Tony hissed back, as Harper walked tae the door, drawing oot the tape fae the roll in Tony’s haun.
Tony walked back tae where Harper wis staunin and turned tae face up the lobby and scribbled doon the measurements. He pursed his lips, thinking, as he stood looking fae the front door towards the bathroom door facing them. Tae the left ae that wis the door intae the kitchen-come-sitting room. A wee table wae a wooden lamp, wae a cream shade oan it, sat jammed in tae the right-haun corner at the far end, between the bathroom and bedroom doors. Efter measuring the width ae the front door and the width ae the lobby itsel, Tony scribbled doon the measurements and walked towards the bathroom, stoapping in front ae the lamp and the table. He stepped back, before drapping doon oan tae his hauns and knees tae peer under the table, feeling the legs ae it and the skirting boards. He wis pleased tae see that the skirtings wur the auld high wans. He started tae measure the height fae the flair tae the tap ae the table, and then fae the flair up tae the tap ae the shade ae the lamp. He stood back and stared at the lamp and table before walking back tae the front door.
“How tall ur ye, Harper?”
“Five eleven.”
“Right, staun here, facing up the lobby,” Tony said, pulling him forward fae the ootside door.
Tony bent doon and took another measurement. This time, using the same measurements as the width ae the door, he laid the tape oan the carpet and measured oot fae the landing door intae the lobby. He reached behind and pulled Harper’s leg, motioning him to shuffle backwards, slowly towards him.
“Stoap! Right, that’ll dae ye,” he whispered, measuring fae the front door tae the back ae Harper’s heels, which wur clamped thegither. He then subtracted four inches aff the measurements.
“Right, jist wan mair and we’ll be oan oor way. Don’t move a muscle.”
“Tony, whit the fuck ur ye up tae?”
Tony measured fae the flair until he wis exactly twelve inches above Harper’s heid and wrote doon that measurement.
“Ye’re no five eleven, ye’re five ten, ya eejit, ye. Right, let’s go,” he said, opening the door and stepping through, followed by Harper.
Jist as Harper wis aboot tae turn the lock using the wee spike he hid in his haun, tae lock the door, the bottom door in the closemooth opened, throwing light alang the bottom hallway and up tae the mezzanine flair below them. Harper looked at Tony wae a horrified, panicked expression oan that face ae his as Tony jumped forward.
“Wait!” Tony moothed silently, before disappearing back intae the hoose and scurrying up the lobby.
Tony pulled the kitchen door shut, turned back roond and scarpered back the way he’d come.
Harper hid the door shut and locked silently by the time Tony hid placed his fit oan the first step ae the stair leading upwards. He quickly followed Tony up oan tae the next mezzanine landing, arriving there jist as the clump ae two feet arrived oan Tam Simpson’s level. Tony pulled Harper towards him oan his left haun side, at the same time as pushing Harpers arse doon oan tae the next set ae stairs in wan flowing move. While he wis daeing this, he withdrew the same gun that Snappy Johnston hid pressed against Harper’s foreheid, fae the waistband ae his troosers. Harper knew fine well that the look ae fear that hid appeared oan his coupon when he’d first heard the door ae the closemooth opening, must’ve been nothing compared tae the terrified look it must hiv oan it noo. Tony Gucci, wae the fading light ae the wintry efternoon sky shining in through the frosted glass ae the landing windae behind him, acting as an eerie backdrop, hid been turned intae a dark shadow, like something oot ae the ‘Jist because the lady loves...’ Cadbury’s Milk Tray advert that hid been oan the telly o’er the Christmas period.
The dark shadow wae the haungun clasped in the ootstretched haun, pointing doon towards the stairwell, caused Harper tae turn as white as the whitewashed stairs that he’d been dumped oan a few seconds earlier. He suddenly looked doon, trying tae comprehend where the expanding wet puddle hid come fae underneath his good Wrangler corduroys that he’d blagged oot ae the hoose up in Colston. Harper could clearly hear the heavy breathing and the rustling ae material fae the landing below them and could picture Tam Simpson gaun through his jaicket pockets, looking fur his key. He heard the rasp ae the key gaun intae the lock and the door swing open, then close again wae a reassuring click.
“Whit noo?” Harper croaked, in a quavering voice, fighting no tae faint where he wis sitting
“Let’s go,” Tony replied cheerfully, smiling at Harper, as he slipped the gun back intae the waistband ae his troosers.
Chapter Forty Five
Digger Day 10
He’d need tae watch oot, Johnboy thought tae himsel. He wis oan the final stretch. There wisnae any mileage in noising up the screws, if he wanted oot oan Hogmanay. When he’d gone oot tae pick up his mattress, efter changing intae his pyjamas, it hid been soaking wet. Because the thing wis manky anyway, he couldnae tell if some screw hid pished oan it or tipped a bucket ae water o’er it.
“This is soaking. Ah need a dry wan,” he’d said tae McVey, the SO who wis staunin there wae a smirk oan that face ae his.
“Get yer mattress in, Taylor, and stoap pissing aboot,” McVey’s pal hid said, adding tae their amusement.
“Somewan’s pished oan this wan.”
“Look, ye’ve hid aw day tae report it and get a new wan.”
“Ah’ve no been oot ae this cell since Ah put it oot this morning...and it wis dry then. Ah need a dry mattress, so Ah dae.”
“Look, if ye’re no happy, take it up wae The AG when he dis his roonds in the morning.”
Johnboy hid stood fur a few seconds staring at them...hating them...wanting tae kill the basturts, bit he’d jist aboot-turned and stomped back intae his cell, as McVey slammed the door shut behind him. He’d hid a good day up until then, apart fae being disturbed by Creeping Jesus and that prick ae a governor.
“So, Taylor, everything all right?” The AG hid asked him that morning, as per the usual stuck record.
“Fine and dandy at ma end.”
“Oh? No complaints then?”
“No fae where Ah’m staunin.”
“I see you’ve got your rulebook then?”
Silence.
“Right, well, I’ll let you get on with it then.”
Johnboy hid started oan his keep-fit regime in earnest, in preparation fur Friday. He wisnae too sure whit he wis gaun oot tae, bit he wanted tae be as fit as he could be...jist in case. He’d done two hunner press-ups, two hunner sit-ups wae his feet under the pipes, in-between running oan the spot, three times that day. He wid increase it by a hunner each day until his last night in the digger. He checked his pillow again, jist tae make sure it hidnae been pished oan, before lying doon oan his back. He’d goat peas wae his tea earlier and hid kept back four fur Rabbie, as a wee change fae the breid. He wis still simmering wae anger by the time the light wis switched aff.
“Pricks!” he shouted, listening tae the echo ae his voice fading, alang wae the tackety boots walking away in the distance.
He put his hauns behind his heid and thought back tae when Tony hid announced oot ae the blue that they wur gonnae start oan the Provi-cheque men again. Everywan hid become excited, apart fae himsel.
“Whit’s wrang, Johnboy?” Tony hid asked him.
“Aye, whit’s wrang, Johnboy? Ye’re no starting tae let they fuck-pig Simpsons get tae ye, ur ye?” Snappy hid taunted.
“Ah’m no sure that riling they basturts up anymair than whit we’ve done awready makes sense,” he
’d answered wae a shrug.
“Why no? They’re gonnae kill us anyway, whitever we dae,” Simon hid chipped in.
“We’re no daeing this jist fur the fun ae it, so we’re no,” Tony hid reminded him.
“Speak fur yersel,” Snappy hid said, getting wee smiles fae everywan.
“Look, we hivnae any choice, so we hivnae. There’s nae way in a month ae Sundays we kin take these basturts heid-oan and win,” Tony said, looking aboot at everywan, making sure he hid everywan’s attention. “They won’t let up, so they won’t. Whit we hiv tae dae is tae draw the basturts intae the flame. If we tan the Provi-cheque men across in Possil, it’s gonnae send Tam and Toby ballistic. They’ll no be able tae contain themsels and will, hopefully, this time, come running across here tae Springburn tae retaliate. Whit we hiv tae dae, meanwhile, is keep oor heids doon, bit keep noising the basturts up every chance we get. Sooner or later, The Big Man will hiv tae get involved. There’s nae way he’ll allow The Simpsons tae run aboot here, dishing oot hidings tae people. If we kin draw him and Wan-bob Broon intae this, due tae The Simpsons running amok across here, then we’ll come oot squeaky clean and intact at the end ae the day. According tae this Jap book that Ah’ve been reading, aw warfare is based on deception, so it is,” Tony hid said, looking at them aw tae see if they wur getting his drift.
“Make’s sense tae me...if Ah knew whit the fuck ye wur oan aboot,” Simon hid retorted, tae nods and guffaws fae the others.
“Aye, that’s aw right saying that, Tony, bit Ah bet ye that yer wee Jap general hisnae been up against a mad fucker like Toby Simpson, so he hisnae,” Ben hid chipped in.
“And it never done them much good in the last war, fae whit Ah heard, so it didnae,” Peter reminded everywan.
“According tae this Sun Tzu...that’s his name, by the way...the wans that always win ur the wans who know when tae fight and when tae hing back. That’s how we’re gonnae operate fae no oan...it makes sense, if ye think aboot it,” Tony hid said.
“According tae that mad mental maw ae mine, hit first and if ye’re still getting any lip back, hit, hit, hit and bloody-well keep oan hitting...especially if ye’ve goat a soup ladle tae haun,” Snappy hid said, touching the auld war wound oan the side ae his heid, as everywan cackled at the pained expression oan that ugly kisser ae his.
“Ah cannae bloody believe youse. Dae aw youse want tae be bampots aw yer lives or wid ye rather be somewhere else?” Tony hid shouted at them.
“This sounds like a sermon coming oan,” Johnboy hid said tae mair laughter.
“Look, if we’re gonnae be a team that commands respect, we need tae push the boat oot. Sitting back oan oor arses, waiting fur somewan else tae swan in and take whit’s oors isnae acceptable.”
“Aye, aw right, Tony, we get the message,” Simon hid muttered loudly.
“Next!” Ben hid shouted as they aw cackled.
Tony hid stood there scowling fur a few seconds before he’d joined in wae the laughter.
“Youse fuckers ur trying ma patience, so youse ur. Noo, listen up, this will mean we’ll hiv tae keep within the boundaries ae Springburn and the toon centre fur a while, which Ah know will be a bit ae a bummer. It’ll probably hit us hard in the pocket as well, especially hivving tae stay away fae the trains across in Cowlairs…Snappy?” Tony hid emphasised, warning him. “As soon as they clock us oot and aboot, they’ll be oan tae us like a rash, so don’t go running aboot oan yer lonesomes. Keep in pairs. So, fae noo oan, stick tae The Big Man’s patches. There’s still plenty ae blagging tae be done there. Let’s see how long it takes ‘till The Simpsons cannae contain themsels any mair and come looking fur us across here, eh?” Tony hid laughed.
“Bit we’ll still be able tae defend oorsels if they hiv a go, Tony?”
“Oh, aye, don’t worry aboot that. We’re entitled tae retaliate if we’re attacked, bit we hiv tae be smart aboot this noo. And don’t bloody hit back at them by using shooters. That’ll only strengthen their case wae The Big Man, when they’re trying tae justify why they’ve invaded his territory tae hiv a go at us, especially efter Silent’s Wild West show, doon in the toon centre. Charlie Hastie warned me that we’d better no hiv hid anything tae dae wae that,” Tony hid growled, looking across at Silent. “He telt me that Shaun wis raging that some basturt’d hid the cheek tae use their patch as a shooting gallery and that when he finds oot who it wis, there’s gonnae be big trouble.”
“Hoi, Ah wis in there, daeing ma bit as well, don’t forget,” Snappy hid reminded everywan.
Guns hid always been part ae The Manky set-up since they’d tried tae shoot Mad Mick Murphy fur his involvement in the death ae Skull, efter he’d been burned tae death in their cabin dookit oan Parly Road when they wur snappers, back in 1965. Silent wis supposed tae hiv been in oan the come-back shooting in 1969, bit hid goat captured by The Stalker and Bumper when they’d aw been oan the run fae Thistle Park during that Christmas and New year. Since then, they’d stashed away any guns that they’d come across or sold them oan, usually tae Erchie The Basturt, wan ae the biggest gun dealers in the toon, as and when any mair turned up. When they wur bored, they’d go oot ae the toon and intae the country fur shooting practice. The first time Snappy hid clocked the guns, he’d jist aboot pissed his pants. His face hid been a picture when they wur aw haunded back tae Tony fur stashing and safe-keeping, efter they’d spent an efternoon oot at Campsie Glen, shooting empty bottles that wur sitting oan tap ae boulders. At the time ae the incident in Waterloo Street, they’d hid three guns stashed away. There hid been a 1940s Colt Model 1903 which wis a lovely hammerless pocket .32 calibre haungun. It wis a nice shade ae blue metal and hid black checked hard rubber grips oan it. Everywan hid loved using it during practice. The second wan hid been a P38 Walther semi-automatic, while the third, and the auldest wan, which probably dated back aboot fifty years or so, hid been a five shot .32 calibre Iver Johnson gambler’s gun. This hid been Silent’s favourite. When Joe and Silent hid been chased by some ae The Simpsons’ crew doon in the Coocaddens, no long efter Joe hid refused tae stoap seeing Kate Simpson, Joe hid been convinced that wan ae the chasers hid stoapped running and hid stood, aiming a gun at them, even though he’d confessed that he’d never heard a shot being fired. Efter that, Silent hid always carried the Iver Johnson, tucked doon the front ae his troosers, especially if he went anywhere oot ae Springburn. It hid only been a few months efter Joe started gaun oot wae the love ae his life that things hid started tae get really hairy. The Mankys hid been getting bushwhacked almost daily whenever they ventured oot ae Springburn. It hid been the Ivor Johnson that Silent hid used tae shoot Bootsy Bell.
“So, if they attack us, we’re still within oor right tae hit them back though...that’s whit ye’re saying, Tony?” Simon hid asked, efter everywan hid agreed tae start hitting the Provi-cheque men across in The Simpson’s backyard.
“Ah’ve jist said so…jist so long as we kin make oot that everything we dae is justified and in self-defence. It’s important that we’re in a position tae always be able tae prove that we wur the wans that wur provoked.”
“That only leaves you, Joe,” Johnboy hid said, saying oot loud whit everywan in the room wis thinking.
“Whit aboot me?”
“Ye’ll hiv tae start meeting Lady Madonna either in the toon centre or across here in Springburn.”
“Ah’ve walked her up the road ever since we started winching, and Ah’m no aboot tae stoap it noo,” he’d replied.
“Bit…” Johnboy hid jist started saying when Tony hid butted in.
“Look, let’s no get back intae aw this. If Joe wants tae commit Hari-Kari, then let the stupid basturt,” Tony hid said, nipping any further debate aboot Kate Simpson in the bud, efter hivving hid a massive row wae Joe the day before aboot Joe’s refusal tae keep within The Mankys’ self-imposed boundaries.
By the time the Friday hid arrived, they’d awready completed their plans tae take oot three Provi-cheque men across in Possil that n
ight. Everywan hid piled roond tae Tony’s oan Petershill Road at aboot hauf eight. Pat, Jake and Ben hid each blagged a car fae the toon centre car parks earlier in the efternoon. Johnboy and Snappy hid been put thegither, wae Ben as their driver. Pat wid drive Simon while Tony wid team up wae Silent, wae Jake as their driver.
“Right, here’s how we’re gonnae dae it. It’s nae use us aw wandering aff tae get tore in. Wance the first wan gets hit, there will be bizzies running aboot aw o’er the place. Whit ye’ll hiv tae dae, is find yer man and then follow him oan his roonds. They’re usually only up the closemooth, or in the hooses, fur aboot five minutes max...unless they’ve goat mair than wan punter up the close. We should aw hiv caught up wae who we‘ve been allocated by hauf nine, so try tae hit them as near tae ten o’clock as ye kin,” Tony hid instructed everywan.
“Whit happens if they’ve changed cars since ye goat the list fae Skinny Malinky?” Ben wanted tae know.
“The routes themsels won’t hiv changed, so they’ll be easy tae spot. Aw oor maws hiv been wae them fur years, so they’ll still hiv the same punters, across in Possil, so they will,” Johnboy hid reminded them.
“Whit aboot using force then?” Simon hid asked.
“Gie them a couple ae digs if need be, bit don’t go o’er the score.”
“Aye, bit whit if they jist put their hauns up and haun o’er the dosh then?” Ben persisted.
“We’re trying tae make a point here, so still gie them a few wee slaps, so it’ll sound worse than it really is when The Glesga Echo and Evening Times pick up oan it,” Tony hid replied.
“Where dae we dump the cars?”
“St Teresa’s chapel. Wance ye get there, nip o’er the fence at the back, intae Westerhill Street. Peter will be sitting in a car. He’ll wait until ten o’clock, at the latest. If he’s no there, gie him five minutes, as he’ll probably be ferrying somewan else back tae Jonah’s. If ye cannae make it oan time, heid fur Jonah’s oan fit, as that’s where we’ll be. Ah’ve asked Alex The Manager tae gie us an alibi. He’ll swear we wur aw in there fae hauf six oanwards. Right, here are yer routes that Ah made up earlier, oot ae Skinny Malinky’s jotter,” Tony hid said, haunin o’er wee bits ae paper, which detailed street names that the Provi guys wur probably awready traipsing roond, collecting their punters dosh as they spoke.