The Silver Arrow

by Ian Todd

  And still on Alexander Parade, Twelve-year-old Nancy Robertson was stable in Glasgow Royal Infirmary after being hit by a stolen Ford Cortina, whilst it was being pursued by police last night. The youngster had been returning from a shopping trip with her mother. Nancy from nearby…

  Sanitation officers, escorted by uniformed police, closed down an illegal butchers factory on Garscube Road this morning. Three women and two men were arrested and will appear in court tomorrow morning charged under the…

  Two teenagers were stabbed on London Road in the Gallowgate last night after being pursued by a gang of youths wielding baseball bats and knives. One of the youths, fifteen-year-old Stephen Waddell was said to be in a critical condition in The Royal Infirmary after undergoing an emergency operation lasting in to the early hours of this morning. His friend, fourteen year old Barry Case was allowed home after having fourteen stitches inserted in his head. Both boys are pupils of…

  A man was let off with a warning at Central Police Court today after he admitted attacking his seventy-one-year-old wife whilst under the influence of alcohol…”

  Chapter Twenty Two

  The Stalker wis fair enjoying the view. He hung back ever so slightly so he could get a better swatch ae the motions ae Peggy McAvoy’s wee tight cheeks being cradled between the panty-lines oan show underneath that tight black standard-issue skirt. As if the black tights covering the legs, haudin up the jiggling arse wisnae enough, he wis aboot fainting in ecstasy as the whiff ae the perfume she wis wearing set aboot they senses ae his, causing him tae stumble alang like a blind, dribbling, demented idiot behind her. It wis only when she suddenly stoapped, causing him tae collide, dick first, intae that stationary arse ae hers, that he inadvertently released a groan ae pent up sexual pleasure and frustration that sounded like a whimpering mongrel pup that hid jist been force-fed a bottle ae milk, when he suddenly realised that they’d passed Daddy’s fancy bullet-riddled walled office.

  “They’re in here, Inspector,” she informed him, staunin aside, as she turned the haundle ae the door, refusing tae mask the look ae utter disgust spread across that face ae hers, as he stumbled blindly past her intae the room.

  “See, Ah telt ye it wisnae jist me. Look at the expression spread across that coupon ae his,” Chief Inspector Jimmy Mack, Glesga’s answer tae Poirot exclaimed, laughing.

  “In ye come, Paddy. Grab a pew,” Daddy said invitingly, ignoring the Heid ae the Murder Squad in the north ae the city.

  The Stalker took in the scene as he moved tae the only other vacant chair in the room. Daddy wis sitting oan the right-haun side ae a desk that hid three thick blue files sitting oan it, facing the door. Tae the left ae the desk, Jimmy Mack wis sitting in plain clothes, his chequered jaicket hung o’er the back ae his chair, tie askew and wae his sleeves rolled up. It wis obvious tae The Stalker that Jimmy hid been there a while, so clearly knew mair aboot whit wis gaun oan than whit he did.

  “Ye’d be as well tae take aff yer jaicket and tie, Paddy. Ah expect ye’ll be here a while,” Daddy informed him, as The Stalker ignored the advice and sat doon, trying tae read the upside doon names oan the files in front ae him.

  The last time he’d been doon in Central, sitting in front ae Daddy, he’d nearly goat the sack fur his cheek. Oan the drive doon fae Springburn, Bumper hid repeatedly warned him tae be oan his best behaviour and tae keep his thoughts and opinions tae himsel. The word in the north wis that The Stalker wis still in Shite Street fur sticking his nose intae areas that wurnae anything tae dae wae him. He felt confident aboot his position though. Crime wis oan the rise up in Springburn, bit he wis banging the wee Neds intae the jail jist as quick as they could pull oot and wield their butcher’s knives above their heids. Although shootings against the street dealers wur also up, it hid been a month since the last fatal stabbing and seven ae the last eight shoaps that hid been tanned hid resulted in arrests. Oan tap ae that, none ae the pavement pounders hid suffered mair than a few bruises in the past four weeks…a new record within the Division.

  “Right, before we start, Ah don’t want any arguments or shite flying aboot here. Hiv we goat that?” Daddy warned them, looking fae wan inspector tae the other.

  “Jist so long as we’re clear oan oor jurisdiction and where the boundaries ae oor responsibilities lie,” Jimmy growled, getting in there first.

  The Stalker wanted tae lean o’er and punch the prick in the mooth, bit knew that that wid be fatal tae whit wis left ae his tattered career, so he refused tae bite. The Stalker smiled. Whenever there wis a murder committed in Springburn, Possil, Milton, Balornock or Burmulloch, there wis always a mad scramble fae the local boys tae solve it and get confessions before Chief Inspector Jimmy Mack arrived oan the scene tae co-ordinate the investigation. Oot ae the last dozen murders, seven hid been wrapped up, bar the paperwork, before Jimmy goat anywhere near the killers. It wis always seen as a big sporting event and a lot ae money changed hauns in the station canteens when a murder occurred. The best bit aboot it wis that Jimmy knew exactly whit everywan wis up tae and wis furever bleating aboot the local boys haudin back oan crucial evidence so they could fuck him before he’d even started the investigation.

  “Right, noo that we’ve goat the pleasantries oot ae the way, Ah’ll begin. Ah’ve hid a wee word wae Jimmy here aboot yer theories regarding that young nurse that goat run o’er up in Stobhill a while back, Paddy. Noo, while Jimmy here thinks ye’re speculating through a hole in yer arse, Ah thought it wid be worthwhile fur the two ae youse tae hiv a wee sit doon and go through the cases individually. Whit ye might consider as a wee review, so tae speak,” Daddy said, nodding at the three files.

  “His Jimmy awready gone through them before Ah arrived?” The Stalker asked.

  “He’s hid a wee gander while we wur waiting fur ye, so he didnae waste precious time,” Daddy confirmed.

  “And?”

  “And whit?” Daddy asked puzzled, looking at him, eyes narrowing in irritation.

  “Whit’s his initial thoughts?” The Stalker asked, looking at Jimmy, bit addressing Daddy.

  “Ah didnae see anything oot ae the ordinary that wisnae awready covered in the initial investigations, although, hivving said that, Ah’ve only been involved in o’er a hunner and thirty three murders since Ah took up ma present position,” Jimmy replied sarcastically.

  “Ah hope ye witnessed that Ah hivnae been unpleasant or said a bad word oot ae turn since Ah’ve arrived, Daddy?” The Stalker complained, putting oan his best ‘Whit hiv Ah done tae deserve this’ face.

  “Whit Ah want youse pair ae tits tae dae is go through the files thegither and see if anything his been missed oot. Withoot wanting tae pre-empt anything youse might come up wae, Ah hiv tae admit, Ah didnae pick up anything masel. Noo, the Dunbartonshire boys ur happy fur us tae talk wae them if there’s a need fur any clarification and that goes fur Big John Robertson, the sergeant in charge ae the nurse’s investigation oot in Bishopbriggs.”

  “Ah notice there’s only three files here,” The Stalker said, nodding at the desk.

  “Aye, so whit?”

  “Well, fae where Ah’m sitting, Ah kin see that there’s the farmer, the doctor and the nurse. Where’s Haufwit’s file?”

  “We don’t need Haufwit’s file. Irrespective ae whit he’s supposed tae hiv telt ye in yer illegal nocturnal visit up tae Stobhill, his murder isnae connected, so don’t come in here trying tae be smart and muddying the water, Paddy. It wis Daddy’s decision tae hiv us here, so let’s stick tae whit he wants, eh?”

  “And Wee Eck Thomas?”

  “Aw, fur Christ’s sake,” Jimmy snarled in frustration, gieing Daddy his best ‘Ah bloody well telt ye’ face.

  “Paddy, jist stick tae the task in haun and stoap noising Jimmy up, okay? Wee Eck Thomas is still listed as a missing person. Noo, if there’s nothing else, youse hiv goat two hours. Ah don’t want any verbal feedback the day. When ye’re finished, write it up and get it back tae me within a week. Oh, in case Ah furg
et, Paddy, come alang tae ma office when ye’ve finished. Ah need tae pass oan some information tae ye before ye heid back up the road,” Daddy said, staunin up and disappearing oot ae the room withoot looking back at the pair ae them.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Happy Harry hid awready been tae the cludgie four times, the first time efter nearly shiting they clean pants ae his. Given his weight and age, how he’d managed tae reach the cubicle within that space ae time, hid been nothing short ae a miracle. He looked up at the clock. Eighteen minutes and seventeen seconds till three o’clock. He felt like throwing up. The sweat wis pishing aff ae him. Bob Hope, wan ae the street pavement pounders, hid awready commented oan his sweaty complexion efter he’d arrived wae his partner, Spencer Glory, wae some auld hag in tow that they’d lifted fur being drunk and disorderly ootside The Boundary Bar oan the corner ae Hawthorn Street and Springburn Road. It hid been obvious that aw they wanted wis tae come in oot ae the rain fur a skive, so he’d telt them tae set her free and piss aff back oan tae the beat. Ten minutes hid passed since he’d phoned Simon Harper at the Carpet Capers Warehoose. He looked up at the clock again. Seventeen minutes and twenty two seconds tae three. He’d need tae calm doon. Fast Track Dave’s bookie shoap wis jist across the road. It wid take him less than a minute tae get there. He also didnae want tae turn up too soon, jist in case Fast Track wis loitering behind the mesh coonter. Everything hid tae be as per usual. Anything oot ae the ordinary in Springburn wis seized upon as something being up. He wished he’d telt McAlpine and McCalumn tae fuck aff when he’d hid the chance. Why, oh why, hid he succumbed? Even worse…he’d awready spent fifty-five quid oan a nice wee 1964 Morris Minor that allowed him tae drive tae work insteid ae hivving tae sit on a manky bus in amongst the herd. The inspector hid been gone fur o’er four hours noo. Every time the front door opened, he jist aboot shat himsel, hauf expecting Paddy McPhee tae reappear. He’d finally made his move at two o’clock efter turning back in the wee corridor four times. The fourth time, he’d even reached the cabinet in paddy’s office before his bowels hid goat the better ae him and he’d legged it back tae the desk efter hearing raised voices in an interview room, further alang the corridor. The fifth time, he’d gone fur it. He’d managed tae get a haud ae a key fur the cabinet. He’d held his breath as he turned it in the lock and hid wanted tae let oot a whoop ae delight when the sliding drawer opened first time. Efter rifling through it twice, he’d drawn a blank. Apart fae the usual spare shirt and uniform jaicket and a pile ae well-thumbed Penthoose magazines, there’d been nae sign ae the inspector’s service notebooks. Efter locking the filing cabinet back up again, he’d scurried back tae the front desk, jist in time tae book in a couple ae hoosebreakers that Hope and Glory hid dragged in, looking as if they’d jist captured Ronnie Biggs. It hidnae taken them long tae inform him that they wur jist nipping aff tae the canteen fur a mug ae tea before tackling the paperwork. Efter a further dash tae the cludgie, he wis noo back in the inspector’s office, assessing the task in haun. The desk must’ve been aboot fifty years auld if the scratches, gouges and stripped-aff varnish oan it wur anything tae go by. There wur two drawers oan either side ae the chair. He’d cursed the air blue, quietly under his breath, as a wee wet blotch hid suddenly appeared oan the bare bit ae the desk that hidnae any varnish oan it. The sweat wis dripping aff ae him noo. Whit wan tae choose first? The tap right haun wan contained nothing bit an assortment ae pens scattered across the arse ae it under the latest copy ae Mayfair and a wee copy ae Forum…the dirty letters magazine. The second choice scored a bull’s-eye. The only problem wis that wan ae the wee blades oan his pocket knife snapped when he wis trying tae prise the drawer open. That left him wae the bigger ae the two blades. In his hurry and panic tae get the thing open, he used too much leverage, and the drawer flew oot oan tae his lap. The bloody lock hid snapped, meaning he widnae be able tae lock the fucker up when he returned the notebook later. Tae make matters worse, there wur hauf a dozen ae the fake, black crocodile skinned basturts, sitting there. Fighting hard and triumphantly managing tae keep his panic contained within that arsehole ae his, he cocked his ear and listened fur any movement oot in the corridor. Hivving satisfied himsel that it wis his heavy breathing that wis making aw the racket in they ears ae his, he decided there and then tae rifle through the pages ae them. He found whit he wis looking fur in the third notebook. There, in the inspector’s scrawling haunwriting, the names ae Stobhill, Haufwit Murray, Tam and Toby Simpson, The Big Man, Johnboy Taylor and Tony Gucci aw jumped oot ae the pages at him. He didnae take the time tae see whit the importance ae the scribbles wur, bit he didnae gie a toss. He wis oot ae the office in a flash and back at his desk, shaking like a leaf, bit no before he’d snatched up the auld yellowing dog-eared book wae a picture ae some Japanese sojer, staunin snarling in a dragon-faced mask, wae a big sword and whit looked like some kind ae bayonet in his hauns oan the front cover. He hid the notebook sitting in his jaicket pocket and the Jap book stuffed doon the front ae his troosers. Christ, the front desk? How could he hiv been so bloody stupid? He wis bound tae get caught noo. How the fuck wis he supposed tae explain how the inspector’s office and desk hid been tanned if he’d been the wan oan duty at the front desk aw day? Shit! Shit! Shit! He looked aboot in panic. He grabbed the tea-towel sitting oan the shelf under the coonter and heided back tae the inspector’s office. Paddy wis bound tae get the fingerprint boys in. Wid his denial ae hivving any knowledge be accepted? Shit! Shit! Shit!

  “Hello, Springburn Polis Office?” Happy growled intae the phone, efter jist aboot jumping oot ae that sweaty skin ae his wae the sound ae the ringing, as he arrived back efter wiping doon Paddy’s desk. “A car’s oan fire? Where? And a fire engine is oan the way? Right, okay, Ah’ll send roond a car. Aye, tell the commander it’s oan its way, hen,” he said, slamming doon the phone in the cradle.

  He looked up at the clock. Five minutes and eight seconds tae three. He lifted up the coonter and heided fur the canteen. Hope and Glory wur sitting oan their lazy arses wae their feet up oan the tables, reading The Glesga Echo that they’d clearly halved in two tae share wae each other.

  “Hope, get yer arse in gear and get roond tae Torrance Street pronto. There’s a car oan fire. The fire brigade ur oan their way, so they ur. You, Glory, ye’re in charge ae the desk fur ten minutes while Ah go across tae Fast Track Dave’s tae put a line oan. And don’t fuck aboot using the phone tae call aw yer pals. The calls ur listed nooadays, so they ur,” he warned him, beating a hasty retreat tae the front door.

  It wis pishing wae rain as he jumped back oan tae the pavement tae avoid the big splash ae water fae the fire engine that wis speeding past, wae its blue lights flashing and bells clattering, heiding towards Torrance Street. Fast Track Dave hidnae noticed him as he came storming oot ae his bookie’s shoap, running like a distorted hippo in the direction ae where the fire engine hid gone. It hid fleetingly crossed Harry’s mind that the car oan fire and Fast Track’s Rolls Royce might be connected, bit aw he wanted tae dae wis tae reach the bookies and haun o’er the notebook, put oan his line, and get tae fuck back tae the station before the inspector arrived back tae discover he’d been burgled.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  “Square back and sides and take yer time, Silent,” Johnboy said, settling back in the chair as The Tormentor disappeared tae skive aff somewhere else.

  He watched Silent in the mirror. There wis something up. There wisnae many people that could tell, bit Johnboy knew the signs. It wis the wee things…like using the heel ae his right haun tae rub his right eye…like shoogling his shoulders and stretching his neck at the same time. Johnboy wondered if anywan hid upset him, as Silent stuck a paper haun towel doon the back ae his shirt collar, before wrapping the sheet roond the front ae his neck and body wae a swish, Zorro style.

  “Who wis in getting a haircut before me, Silent?”

  Silence.

  “Ah hope it wisnae wan ae they stoat-the-baw basturts, wis it?”
<
br />   Silence.

  Normally, when Johnboy spoke tae Silent, he’d at least get some sort ae acknowledgement. It could be a wee hauf smile, or jist a fleeting knowing look across they eyes ae his that indicated that he knew he wis being spoken tae. Johnboy shut his eyes as Silent sprayed water oot ae a gardener’s plastic spray gun. Oan the side ae it wis a faded print ae green leaves that looked like cannabis plants and the name McLeod, Florists, Bank Street, Dumfries, underneath them. He wondered how the spray hid ended up in the barber shoap ae Dumfries YOI. When he opened his eyes, he smiled. A couple ae inches in front ae his face, Silent wis staunin staring at him intently wae a lethal pointed pair ae scissors in his haun.

  “And mind ma ears,” Johnboy reminded him, remembering whit Silent hid done tae the tip ae The Chief’s right lug the week before.

  Johnboy wondered if his wee confabs wae Silent roond the snooker table hid been sinking in. They never lasted very long before they wur interrupted, bit it felt good fur Johnboy tae affload whit his thoughts wur regarding the Senga situation. Although it could be a bit frustrating during some ae the mair sensitive parts ae the conversation, when a response wid’ve been welcomed, Johnboy always felt better efter it.

  “Jist in case ye’re wondering, or even mildly interested in ma situation, Ah’ve manage tae work everything oot…Ah think. That makes ye redundant in the listening stakes noo, ye’ll be pleased tae hear. Ah mean, who the fuck cares whether it’s love or no at this stage ae the game, eh? You probably think Ah’m bonkers fur even gaun alang wae whit she’s offering, bit if she’s happy, Ah’m happy. It’s how Ah conduct masel in the future that’s important. As long as Ah kin see ma way tae no getting involved, or even wanting tae get involved in skulduggery, then Ah don’t see why it widnae work,” he said defensively, as he heard the first cut ae the scissors at the side ae his heid.