by Todd, Ian
“Ah, Taylor, less than twenty four hours and you’ll be a free man,” The AG hid sniffed, showing the first signs ae defeat since Johnboy hid been slung in the digger.
Silence.
“No doubt, you’ll be back, although not to here. Thank God the borstal system only allows for one stint. I don’t think we could put up with you again.”
“Ach, don’t ye worry, Governor, it won’t be the last we’ll see ae Taylor, so it won’t,” Porky The Pig hid grunted, sounding exactly like the fat ugly porker that he wis impersonating.
“Well, I hope you’ve had plenty of time to reflect on your past deeds and have come to the conclusion that crime doesn’t pay,” The AG hid whined accusingly, his eyes boring intae Johnboy’s, wae a fleeting glimmer ae hope that miracles did indeed happen.
Silence.
“Ah think ye’re wasting yer breath oan this wan, Governor. If Taylor hid any intentions ae accepting sound advice, he wid’ve accepted it by noo.”
“Oh, well,” Mr Failed Rehabilitator grumbled. “Carry on, Taylor.”
And wae that, the two ae them hid aboot-turned and gone aff tae torment some other poor soul. Reflect? Too bloody true he’d reflected since ending up in that shitehoose ae a place. The minute him and Silent hid goat huckled by The Stalker and Bumper, it hidnae taken much reflection tae realise where they’d fucked up. Whit hid made matters worse hid been that Harry The Bouffant hid warned Johnboy a month earlier when he’d gied Snappy a haun tae deliver seventeen commercial full-heid hairdryers tae his salon oan Springburn Road.
“Any chance ae a quick blow, seeing as we’re here, Harry?” Snappy hid asked him.
“Oh, Snappy, ye’re welcome tae a free blow anytime, son, so ye ur,” Harry hid beamed, flirting like the auld drama queen that he wis.
“Naw, Ah meant wae wan ae these. Ah’ve always wondered whit it wis like,” Snappy hid laughed, sitting under the hairdryer and pulling it doon o’er his heid.
“The reason Ah’ve been so successful in business, is because Ah don’t mix business wae pleasure. That’s the path tae success, so it is,” Harry hid crooned, bouffant rising and falling gently, like the heid ae a plastic duck floating in a bathtub full ae water.
And whit hid Johnboy gone and done? Ignored sound business advice fae somewan oan the inside, who knew the business game inside oot. Silent and himsel hid jist moved intae their first flair pad oan the corner ae Millarbank Street and Gourlay Street, jist opposite the public halls. It hid been the perfect set-up. They’d each hid their ain bedroom and shared the kitchen-come-living room. They’d goat the place decked oot wae swanky furniture, courtesy ae the big furniture shoaps in the toon centre. Cracks hid started tae appear early oan in their wee independent piece ae paradise when the place started tae become a temporary warehoose fur everywan who couldnae shift stuff as quickly as they’d hoped. Business hid been booming, despite the hassles wae The Simpsons. It hid aw started wan morning no long efter they’d moved in. Johnboy hid been trying tae impress Aggie McCoy by making her scrambled eggs fur breakfast wan morning, efter finally getting intae her knickers the night before, efter two months ae using every persuasive trick in The Mankys ‘Getting Them Aff In Wan Week Flat’ book. The chances ae getting a morning’s second helpings hid been spoiled by the thumping oan his front door. When he’d opened it, Billy MacRae, the milkman, hid been staunin there wae Simon Epstein, The Carpet Blagger.
“Fur fuck’s sake, Simon, this is no the time, so it isnae. Whit dae ye want?” he’d squealed in frustration.
“Great, ye’re in, Johnboy. Ah’ve goat a couple ae rolls ae carpet that Ah need tae drap aff wae ye fur a couple ae hours, so Ah hiv.”
“Whit?”
“Billy his tae get back tae the depot tae pick up his deliveries fur the shoaps. He’ll come back in a couple ae hours tae pick them up, so he will.”
And wae that, the pair ae basturts hid aboot-turned and disappeared doon tae the milk wagon tae haul up two big rolls ae Axminster or whitever make they wur. No only hid Johnboy burnt his good scrambled eggs, bit Aggie hid shot oot ae bed and quickly put her gear oan, before fucking aff, as she hidnae wanted Billy tae see her there, because he drank wae her da in The Auld Hoose pub alang oan Keppochhill Road. There hid always been problems wae deliveries. Sometimes, when Billy and the other Henderson’s milkman, Terry Marshall, turned up at a door, the customers who’d ordered swag fae the toon centre shoaps wurnae in. Wae Billy and Terry hivving tae dae their shoap deliveries in the efternoon, they only hid a short time tae pick up and drap aff swag. They wur furever oan the lookoot fur storage. The other problem wis that, wance they found storage fur stuff, especially big bulky items like furniture and rolls ae carpet, the basturts always seemed tae take their time tae come back and pick it back up, as new stuff wis being blagged oan a daily basis that also needed delivering. It goat tae the stage where there wis furniture and carpets and heaps ae other shite stacked up aw o’er Springburn, waiting tae be uplifted.
“We’re the victims ae oor ain success,” Peter The Runner wis always bleating.
“Aye, bit how aboot trying tae figure oot a solution oan how tae get aw this shite shifted insteid ae moaning aboot it, Peter,” Johnboy wis furever whining at him.
“Ah’m trying, Ah’m trying.”
“The answer is that we need tae slow doon. It’s nae use blagging aw this swag if we cannae get it tae where it’s supposed tae be gaun,” Ben hid volunteered, the last time that it hid been raised.
“Whit? And miss oot oan a sale? Here’s me, running masel intae the groond, trying tae find youse customers and aw youse kin dae is bloody moan. How aboot, well done, Peter, here’s an extra percentage fur aw yer troubles,” Peter hid retorted.
“Ah think we should open oor ain shoap, so we should. Imagine catching some wee shoaplifter trying tae blag aff the blaggers?” Snappy hid said, laughing.
“Whit wid ye dae wae him if ye caught him?” Pat hid asked him.
“Break his wee sticky fingers.”
It hid never goat sorted oot and before they knew whit wis happening, Johnboy and Silent’s good pad hid been full ae furniture, carpets, cookers, fridges, TVs...in fact, everything, including stainless steel kitchen sinks, which hid been sitting fur o’er two weeks, waiting tae be uplifted. Fur Silent and Johnboy tae get intae their kips, they hid tae climb o’er mountains ae stuff. Wan night, Silent hid been shagging somewan and a chest ae drawers hid landed oan his back, as his arse wis gaun like the clappers. He’d hid three Schreiber chest ae drawers stacked up oan tap ae wan another at the bottom ae his bed and the tap wan hid toppled aff and nearly broken his spine and the lassie underneath him hid nearly suffered a fatal stab wound tae her back. At wan point, brand new Schreiber bedroom units hid been sitting oot oan the stairheid landing, forcing the neighbours upstairs tae squeeze past them when they wur coming and gaun. It hid only been a matter ae time before the shit hit the fan. Johnboy hid been fast asleep wan night, when Silent hid climbed o’er a mountain ae good G-Plan furniture, still in its wrapping paper in Johnboy’s bedroom.
“Ther…there’s something g…gaun oan at the front d…door. Ah think it c…could b…be the bizzies,” he’d managed, his face screwed up like a contortionist’s arse.
By the time Johnboy hid goat his gear oan and climbed oot intae the lobby, tae join Silent, staunin staring at the front door in the dark, their worst fears hid been confirmed in dramatic fashion.
“Right, noo lads!” The Stalker’s voice hid screamed.
The front door hid suddenly crashed in and six big bizzies hid surged forward, before toppling o’er like skittles in a ten-pin bowling alley. The Stalker, followed by Bumper, hid been the first two through the door, intae the dark lobby. Unfortunately fur them, they’d run straight intae the ends ae two rolls ae carpet that hid been lying oan the flair, waiting tae be picked up by The Milkmen. Close behind them, Biscuit Smith, followed by Hope and Glory hid joined the divers before Froggie Shearer decided tae join in. It hid aw happened i
n a matter ae seconds. Baith Johnboy and Silent hidnae fucked aboot during aw this palaver. The baith ae them hid shot forward and tried their best tae scramble across the backs ae the screaming and cursing bizzies, who wur howling and scrambling aboot in the dark, trying tae get back up oan tae their feet. Wan ae them…Johnboy thought it might’ve been Bumper, hid managed tae get a grip ae Johnboy’s leg oan his way past, which hid caused him tae topple in amongst them aw. Silent hid done a bit better and hid managed tae get oot ae the hoose and doon the stairs, only tae be grappled tae the ground by a polis inspector and a spotty-faced wee bizzy cadet who’d ended up in tears efter Silent hid ran o’er the tap ae him in the closemooth, intae the waiting erms ae the hat wae the braid oan it. Efter lying oan remand fur three months, which hid included Christmas and the New Year, they’d been found guilty oan twenty three accounts ae theft and resetting stolen goods. They’d goat sentenced tae two years borstal training. The charge oan Silent fur assaulting the spotty cadet hid been drapped. Although the sentence hid been two years, everywan knew that that meant nine months locked up in Polmont, no counting any loss ae remission gathered oan the way. He’d still share a pad wae Silent when they wur liberated, bit nae fucker wis getting tae use the pad as a storage warehoose.
Wae this being his last night, he’d broken up his stale roll and hid left a trail oan the flair, alang the edges ae the wall fur Rabbie tae hiv a few days’ supply. He wisnae too sure ae whit tae expect in the morning, bit as soon as he wis back in the toon, the aim wid need tae be a planned come-back oan whoever the fuck it wis that hid chibbed Silent. Johnboy knew fine well that while himsel and Silent hid been oot ae circulation, things wid’ve become a lot hairier ootside wae The Simpsons. It hid been gaun oan fur too long. He wondered if Tony hid managed tae get in touch wae The Big Man or Wan-bob Broon. They couldnae go oan like they hid been before. Joe being stabbed tae death wis evidence ae that. If somewan in the state he wis in wis targeted, then there wis nae chance fur the rest ae them. The regular beatings hid started no long efter Joe hid been well enough tae be allowed oot and aboot oan the street by his ma, Issie. Frisky Frank McKenna hid made it plain tae Snappy and Ben that it wid continue until Tony agreed tae a sit-doon wae Toby. Aw The Mankys knew that Tony’s decision tae bait The Simpsons intae hivving a go at them across in Springburn, so they’d draw The Big Man or Wan-bob Broon intae the fight, wis the right wan. Everywan knew they’d be at risk. The only person they hidnae taken intae consideration wis Joe. Efter aw, who wid be as low as tae take the liberty ae hivving a go at somewan who hid brain damage and who went aboot shiting himsel in the street? The decision no tae carry guns, in case it erupted intae a full war involving The Big Man, hid regularly been brought up.
“Look, ya stupid basturts. Aye, it’s terrible whit’s happening tae Joe, bit we cannae be the wans tae be seen tae escalate the situation by using shooters…and anyway, the fact that Silent used a gun doon in Waterloo Street means The Simpsons ur hivving tae be wary anyway. They probably believe we’re always carrying, so jist be patient. It won’t be long noo until The Big Man and Wan-bob resurface,” Tony hid argued.
Efter Tony, Silent hid become The Simpsons’ next favourite hate figure, due tae the damage he’d inflicted oan Bootsy Bell. That hid gied them mair justification, as if they’d needed any, tae wipe oot The Mankys. Johnboy wis desperate tae find oot whit hid happened tae Joe. He’d find oot soon enough. It wid be too much tae expect that by killing Joe, that maybe they’d ease aff...a tooth fur a tooth and aw that. He knew that wis jist wishful thinking. Noo that they wur oan the verge ae being liberated, Silent wid be the wan that wid need the protection. It wid be up tae everywan tae either staun up tae the basturts, so that they could get oan wae their lives, or gie up and be used as punch bags every time they came across Jo Jo Robson and Frisky Frank McKenna, oot and aboot oan the street.
Johnboy thought aboot his ma. Aw the boys in Polmont loved their mas. The mas wur the wans who made sure they goat a visit, received books and comics and occasionally letters fae ootside. Whenever guys in the jail spoke aboot family, it wis always aboot their mas. Johnboy wisnae that sure how he felt aboot his ma. She’d always been there, gaun up tae the school when he wis younger and jist starting tae get intae trouble, or up in court whenever he appeared. Tony, Paul, Joe and Skull always said that they’d wished their mas hid been mair like his. Her reputation as hero number wan wae them hid been sealed the day that she’d stormed intae Central when they wur snappers and torn strips aff ae an inspector, alang wae that prick ae a sergeant, Liam Thompson and his skelly eyed-sidekick, Crisscross, who wis married tae Sally Sally, the fat cow fae the Sally Army. The basturts hidnae known whit hid hit them. Johnboy smiled, remembering how they’d aw been let oot ae the station, withoot being charged wae anything. While his mates hid raved aboot her, Johnboy remembered being embarrassed by her and wishing that she wis like their mas. He wisnae too sure why he wis scared ae her. Everywan’s ma cursed and raved at them. Wae Johnboy, it always seemed tae be different. When his ma hid a go, it wis like a hot knife searing through him. He’d always tried tae go oot ae his way tae try and please her when he wis young, bit he’d never seemed tae manage tae get it right. As he’d goat aulder, he realised that there wis nae pleasing her, so, insteid ae trying tae impress her, he’d spend maist ae his time trying tae avoid displeasing her. Unfortunately, he wis always confused as tae whit wis actually expected ae him and whit he should dae next, and so he ended messing up even mair in her eyes than if he’d jist left things well alane. Wan ae the reasons he’d left hame tae set up wae Silent wis because ae the run-ins she wis hivving wae his sister Norma. Following each other fae room tae room screaming the place doon. It wisnae jist him.
Johnboy looked aboot. Two weeks in the digger hidnae been too bad. It hid kept him oot ae trouble and hid made sure he’d be celebrating the New Year in The Jonah wae the people he trusted and wanted tae be wae. It wis gonnae be the start ae a new year and nineteen seventy two wid take care ae itsel. He lay doon oan his bare back, shifting every noo and again as that skin ae his kept sticking tae the gloss paint that covered the cement bed.
“Fuck them...fuck them aw,” he said oot loud.
He caught sight ae a wee blurred, flashing movement underneath the door, as Rabbie arrived late fur his tea. Johnboy lay his heid doon oan the bare concrete and fell asleep.
Chapter Fifty Nine
Hogmanay: Friday 31st December 1971
4.30 A.M.
Everything in the street wis covered wae a heavy sheet ae white frost. Nothing stirred. They’d sat and watched fur aboot fifteen minutes, before Pat flashed the heidlight tae Snappy in the other car, tae gie him the nod tae escort Harper up the closemooth tae open Tam Simpson’s front door. They’d agreed beforehaun that if Tam Simpson appeared at the door when Harper opened it, Snappy wid jist let him hiv it, full in the face. The only problem wae that scenario, wis that they’d then need tae take care ae Harper. Nothing moved between the parked cars, bushes and the railings that ran doon the street towards the closemooth. Efter two minutes, Snappy and Harper reappeared oot ae the closemooth and walked doon towards the Balmore Road end ae the street, where the other car wis parked up. Simon and Tony shifted in their seats and goat oot ae the car, shutting the doors o’er quietly behind them. Tony looked behind and wis glad tae see that they wurnae leaving any fitprints oan the pavement behind them. Tony led the way through the bottom front door, wae Simon following closely behind, carrying the holdall wae the Poacher’s Retreat and tools in it. Wance they wur oan the stairs, Tony pulled oot a haungun fae his jaicket pocket. At Tam’s door, he hesitated slightly, listening fur any sound fae inside, before pushing the door open. They’d gied themsels hauf an hour tae set up. Simon stood in the lobby, a sawn-aff shotgun in his hauns, while Tony disappeared intae the bedroom oan the right. They’d agreed that they’d dae a quick search before they goat doon tae business, in case Tam wis lying in his bed. Efter looking in a wardrobe and checking under the bed, Tony we
nt through tae the kitchen. The place wis empty. He nodded tae Simon, who immediately knelt doon and opened the bag. Efter making sure aw the internal doors wur shut, Tony switched oan the lamp oan the wee table beside the toilet door. Simon wis awready laying oot the fishing line, screws, net curtain wire hooks and the Poacher’s Retreat oan its block ae wood oan the flair, parallel tae the skirting board. Tony measured back fae the closed ootside landing door, before nodding tae Simon, who lifted the wee table, wae the lamp oan it, forward tae the right position. It noo sat oan the other side ae Tam’s bedroom door, well away fae it’s original position. Tony bent doon, picked up a brass screw and screwdriver and pushed the screw hard intae the side ae the table leg, causing big dark shadows tae dance aboot the lobby ceiling wae that bobbing heid ae his in front ae the shade. The screw bit intae the leg first time and he soon hid it through intae the high skirting board. He tested it by pulling the table towards him. It wis stuck fast. He bent doon and picked up another screw and repeated the process wae the other leg. When he looked across at Simon, he saw Simon wis awready bent doon, manually twisting the hooks intae the skirting board oan the other side ae him, ten inches high, at twelve inch intervals.
“Toss me the measuring tape,” Simon whispered, catching it first time as Tony slung it across tae him.
Simon measured back thirty three inches fae the ootside landing door, before moving the tape back four inches tae twenty nine, where he embedded a curtain hook, oan each skirting, directly opposite each other. Tony stood up and patiently stood watching Simon tie the fishing line oan tae the first hook oan the right as ye came in fae the stairheid landing. He’d awready double-checked tae make sure that the gap in the wee hooks wur aw facing the flair. Tony, meanwhile, hid lifted up the Poacher’s Retreat and laid it oan the wee lamp table, underneath the lamp shade. They’d decided tae keep the lamp sitting where it wis so that Tam wid still see it as he opened the door, hopefully jist momentarily, before he realised that something wis amiss and it wis too late. He knelt doon oan baith knees behind the table, before crouching forward so that he could see the firing line he wanted fur when the wire wis tripped. When he wis satisfied, Simon came across and held the wooden block in place while Tony placed the first ae the two six inch screws intae the hole in the wooden block. He pressed doon oan the screw and felt it bite. He could hear the scrunching ae the surface ae the table as the screw bit intae it. Within twenty seconds, the table, wae the Poacher’s Retreat attached, wis solidly in place. He looked at Simon who winked and grinned. Tony unscrewed the brass ring, pulled the shotgun cartridge oot ae his jaicket pocket and inserted it in the slot. He then slipped the ring o’er the tap ae the cartridge and screwed it tight oan tae the short barrel. He knelt doon again and repeated the line ae fire process. He knew whit he wis daeing couldnae be classed as perfect, bit it wid hiv tae dae. At least he’d tried. He attempted tae wobble the block, bit it widnae budge.