Sensing yet more trouble, Tommy Duff growled, 'is that from the bastards who stole my drone?'
Apparently incapable of speech, Fazzo simply stared at his phone and nodded dumbly.
'So what does it fucking say?'
In the absence of a coherent reply, Tommy Duff snatched the phone from his son and read the text message for himself, with a familiar murderous expression spreading across his face. Then he clicked on the attached YouTube link and watched as a message, written in block capitals with a felt tip pen on a white cardboard background, appeared on the screen. With an icy calm, Tommy read aloud to his son, 'Because he's bone lazy and thick as two short planks, business has been slow lately for Danny Duff, aka Fazzo, the baby thug from Gargummock, who deals drugs and steals mobile phones for a living. Watch him bravely offer to take one for the team, behind the Gents toilet in his local park, to earn some money for his vicious gangster father, Tommy.'
The video then cut to a spectacular aerial shot of Bogside Park, before the camera slowly zoomed in on Fazzo, performing a strangulated version of the hit song "Want to Want Me," complete with dance moves. However, the full meaning of the written message which began the video then became clear as he is seen to slowly turn away from the camera, before dropping his trousers and white Calvins around his ankles. Then, bending over to reveal his pasty, pimple covered backside in all its glory, he performs a lewd wiggle for the benefit of the camera, still wailing "Want to Want Me."
Immediately aware of the damage the video could do to the fearsome reputation of his family, Tommy Duff advanced purposefully towards his son. The angry red throbbing vein on the side of his forehead was back, big time. 'I've always had my suspicions about you, Danny. I think your mother was right. She's always maintained we were given the wrong baby at the hospital, back when you were born. And I don't know, yet, who these thievin' bastards are who stole my drone, but they did get two things right about the Duff family.'
'What's that, da?' whined Fazzo.
'You're definitely bone lazy and thick. And I'm definitely vicious.'
Police later conducted a search of Bogside park, in response to a number of phone calls from concerned local residents who, on hearing prolonged blood curdling screams and shouts coming from the park over the period of half an hour, were certain that at least one murder must have been committed.
The reports were taken seriously and a thorough search of the park was subsequently made. Several pieces of torn clothing were found snagged on dense trampled undergrowth, in a trail which eventually led to a pool of blood on the footpath next to the pond. Police came to the entirely reasonable conclusion that someone in fear of their life appeared to have been chased around the park, before being finally cornered and assaulted at the edge of the pond. Divers subsequently searched the pond, finding a below average haul for a watercourse in Glasgow, comprising two stolen motorbikes, twelve shopping trolleys, three meat cleavers and a Samurai sword. However, on this occasion they failed to find a body, or any severed limbs.
Police records show that, in the days following, no complaint was registered by the victim of an assault within Bogside Park, which would have shed light on the mystery.
Chapter 20
Tears of laughter streamed down Jack Davidson's face as he sat in his office, watching the YouTube video from Bogside Park, while listening to the full tale of Fazzo's comeuppance being recounted by Annie and Jamie.
'That was a fantastic piece of work, you two. I mean to get your stolen phone and Annie's money back was amazing enough, but to come up with the idea for grabbing hold of the drone and then using it to shoot the video in the park was pure genius. Loss of face and reputation is a really big deal for gangsters like the Duff clan, much more than losing money. So knowing that all the locals are now pissing their pants laughing at them, instead of being cowed and afraid, will really hurt Tommy Duff. I know we're sitting here joking about it, but the Duffs are seriously nasty people and you were taking a big chance setting out to try and con them like that.'
'We just worked out a plan and tried to manage all the risks,' said Annie modestly. 'It had to be done to make things right. Because of what happened to Jamie, I couldn't just let that go.'
Jamie added, 'it was all Annie's idea and I just helped with the techie side of things. That's what I'm good at. To be honest I was shaking like a leaf when I walked up to Fazzo in the park and looked him if the face, for the first time since the attack. Then when I thought he recognised me, my heart actually stopped beating and I had visions of ending up back in my old bed in the Infirmary.'
'Yes but the thing is, you held your nerve and got the job done, that's what counts, Jamie. You've been tested in the fire and come through with flying colours.'
'Anyway, I'm really proud of you both and there's no doubt that Fazzo will be blamed by his father for losing the drone in the first place and then for starring in that rather unsavoury video. So it's safe to assume that Tommy Duff will administer a far harsher punishment than anything that the courts could ever provide. Now some picky people might say that what you did to Fazzo was entirely illegal, not to mention devious, underhand and sadistic. Personally I don't have a problem with any of that, because the little shit and his equally unpleasant father deserve everything that's coming to them and more. It might teach them a lesson that life isn't fair and what goes around comes around. I can say without fear of contradiction that justice has definitely been served in this case. Oh, and remind me never to get on your bad side, Annie, because you're obviously one seriously scary woman when you really put your mind to it.'
'I'll take that as a compliment,’ said Annie smiling.
'By the way, what are you going to do with the drone?'
'We have a difference of opinion on that one, boss. I think we should keep it and, of course, Jamie being a total straight arrow thinks that would be stealing and we should leave it back in the park somewhere, then send a text message to the Duffs saying where it is.'
'I’m afraid you're way too good for this world, Jamie. But bear in mind that, if you decide to return it to the Duffs, it's odds on that they're going to use it in some kind of criminal activity. That's what they do after all.'
'Exactly,' replied Annie. 'That's why I think we should hold on to it and use it instead to help solve cases and catch more bad guys. I think there could be a lot of scope for using a drone in our line of work.'
Jack added, 'you never know, we might have a job in the future, where a good man with your specialist skills will be needed. What do you think? It's your call, Jamie, we're happy either way.'
'Mmm … I never thought about it that way. Okay then, you're probably right guys. The drone is actually newer and has a much better spec than the old one I've been using. So it would be perfect for developing my smartphone app.'
'Ah … I see, we now have an outbreak of drone lust,' said Annie with a smile.
Jack added, 'good call, Jamie. Welcome aboard, buddy. You've just been made the chief drone consultant to JD Investigations. An extremely prestigious but, sadly, poorly paid appointment.’
Chapter 21
The next morning, Annie ticked off another step in Jack’s recovery, by managing to get him back into the JD Investigations office for their usual half-past eight start time. However, although he was back on the premises, he wasn’t actually doing any work.
After making himself a coffee and then yawning and scratching for five minutes, he got up and stood staring out of the office window, whistling tunelessly, before eventually sitting down and switching on his iPad.
Almost an hour passed before he said, 'Annie?'
'What is it?'
'Have you got a minute?'
'Look I'm busy, going through more of these endless security tapes from the store in Buchanan Street, looking for shoplifters. Why?'
'It's the usual, you know. I'm stuck on the last clue in to-day's Times crossword.'
'Talk about Groundhog Day. You've swapped the paper version of t
he crossword for the electronic one, but that's the only difference. I don’t have time for this at the moment, maybe later. If you want to do something useful, you could check our emails.’
Jack put his iPad to one side and started to check through the office email inbox. ‘Annie, there are several strange emails here from some Irish guy, who keeps asking if we've managed to track down his missing horse box. Do you know anything about that?'
'Nope. Maybe he left Shergar in it.'
‘It makes you wonder where all of this shit comes from?’ said Jack, as he worked his way through the inbox, deleting ever more spam. Then he announced cheerfully, 'hey, wait a minute, this one's a bit more like it. We might have a new job, Annie. This email is from Henry Dunn. He’s a guy I've worked with a few times. To be honest, he's a complete pain in the arse. But if this job's anything like the previous ones, it probably pays good money.'
'Okay, where is it?'
'Abroad.’
'That's terrific … somewhere warm I hope.'
'Not really … it's in Edinburgh.'
'The last time I looked at a map, boss, Edinburgh was only 40 odd miles away. Definitely still in Scotland and our capital city, if I remember correctly. I actually cycled through there last year on a charity run for cancer research. It took me just over four hours. Would have been quicker, but we stopped off halfway, in Bathgate, for a couple of pints of shandy and got into some very bad company. So … hardly abroad.'
'Ah, but that's where you're completely wrong, Annie. The actual distance has nothing to do with it. It's not about the miles, it's about the attitude. The superior, snooty way people in the capital city see themselves and how they look down their nose on the rest of the country, especially Glasgow. The reality is that Edinburgh's a whole world away. That’s what I’m talking about.'
'I don't know, all that stuff about which city is best, the East coast, West coast rivalry thing, is totally boring and old hat as far as I'm concerned. I just think we're lucky in Scotland to have two major cities with their own distinct identities. I mean how boring would it be if you got off the train in Edinburgh and the first person you bumped into at Waverley station was a wee guy, wearing a baseball cap and a white shell suit, who said, ‘Haud ma chips fur me chief, will ye? Cos’ ah've just drapped the wean.'
'That was very good, Annie, I can see a promising future for you in stand-up comedy. But let's get one thing straight, Edinburgh is the capital of Scotland in name only. Everybody knows that all of the smart, funny, good-looking people actually live here, in Glasgow.'
'Who told you that?'
'An acknowledged world authority on all aspects of Scottish culture. Your auntie Peg.'
'Okay then, convince me. Name one.'
'Present company excepted?'
'Yes.'
'Okay, but that's obviously limiting the field quite a bit. Well there's Frankie Boyle and Kevin Bridges for a start.’
‘Erm … I think you and aunt Peg maybe need to do a bit more work on that particular theory, boss. Anyway, back to the email. What's the job?'
'I don't have the full story yet. Henry's a bit short on details, as usual, other than saying that the job could last around two weeks. He’s suggesting we should meet up somewhere in Edinburgh this week, to have a chat about it over lunch and firm things up. The only downside, if we do take the job, is that we'll have to put up with all of his crap jokes and sarcasm about Glasgow. I don't know where he finds the stuff, but listen … this is typical of how he usually signs off his emails.'
‘I've got a question for you, Jack, okay? If you see a Weegie coming towards you on a bicycle, who’s cursing and swearing loudly at passers-by, in between taking swigs from a bottle of Buckfast, why should you never swerve your car across the road to try and hit him?'
Jack looked up inquiringly at Annie, who yawned and replied, 'I've absolutely no idea.'
Answer: 'There's a good chance that it’s your bike he's riding.'
'Hilarious … not. Can I get back to work now?'
'Oh wait, he's slipped in another one for luck, as a PS. You ready?'
'I don't think I'm ever going to be ready for this, boss, but go on anyway,' sighed Annie.
'Okay then, a Weegie burd goes in to the Anne Summers shop, in Sauchiehall Street, and explains to the sales assistant that she has a problem with her boyfriend, who is somewhat lacking in the bedroom skills department. She further explains, 'see it's no just me who thinks that he’s crap at shaggin’. Ma mother says he was useless when he tried to pump her as well. So, ah'm thinkin’ ah should just dump the loser, and get wan of these new sex toys instead.'
So the female sales assistant says, 'Well you've certainly come to the right place, madam. Everything we have is on that wall over there … all of our vibrators, eggs, ticklers and bullets.'
Patting her jacket pocket, the Weegie burd smiled and whispered confidentially out of the side of her mouth, 'It's okay, thanks, ah'm sorted for bullets. Naw, it's definitely a vibrator I need.'
'But tae be honest, ah’ve no seen anythin’ so far that ah really fancy.' Then looking around the shop for a little longer she exclaimed excitedly, 'hey, wait a minute … now that's more like it. Ah'll take the big red one right there, above the counter?’
'Sorry miss, that's the fire extinguisher.'
As he finished reading, Jack immediately choked back a snigger when he saw Annie's stone-faced reaction and began to backtrack furiously. 'Okay, that one's obviously not a great joke either, but it's … ahem, maybe a little bit better than the bicycle one. But obviously in a completely unacceptable, non-PC, misogynistic kind of way.'
'Look boss, don't tell me anymore of this prat's so-called jokes, okay? I've not even met Henry whatever his name is, and I hate him already,’ said Annie. 'In fact, is it okay if I kick him in the balls as soon as you introduce him to me?'
'Actually I don't have a problem with that. But if you could maybe wait until after we do the job and get paid. I'll even hold him for you.'
Annie continued to splutter with indignation. 'So that's an example of the famous Edinburgh sense of humour, is it? I mean, do me a favour. Oh and that reminds me, do you remember what the funniest joke was at last year's Edinburgh Comedy Festival?'
'No.'
'Exactly. And nobody else does either. Probably the guy who told the joke can't even remember it. But I've just Googled it to remind me … you ready?'
Jack bent down out of sight behind his desk and said, 'Okay, Annie, go ahead, I'm now in the approved brace position. You know, just in case I go into uncontrollable convulsions and spring a couple of ribs laughing.'
'Okay then, here goes. 'I've decided to sell my Hoover … well, it was just collecting dust.'
'Is that it?' said Jack, looking up in amazement after a moment’s pause.
'Yes.'
'And you’re telling me that was the best joke at the whole of the Edinburgh Comedy Fringe?'
'Yep, I'm afraid so.'
'Well that was bloody pathetic, Annie, and I think it tells you everything you need to know about their so-called sense of humour through in Edinburgh.'
'Anyway, first of all we need to get the finger out and try to make some progress on this shoplifting job, before we get too heavily involved in anything else. Could you take a look at some of these security tapes for me, boss, because I’m getting absolutely nowhere with them.’
Chapter 22
With business slow and bills to pay, Annie had come up with the idea of sending an email shot to each of the twenty-one places where she'd worked on short term contracts, before joining JD Investigations. The pitch was that her previous work experience and knowledge of the premises would be useful, if any of the various businesses had current theft or security issues. It was a long shot, but she'd received a single reply, from an upmarket department store in Buchanan Street, Glasgow's premier shopping venue, where she'd previously spent four months working at as a sales assistant. The store was losing valuable stock at an alarming r
ate and management was at a loss to know how the thefts were being carried out.
Bored by reviewing endless security videos, where nothing untoward ever seemed to happen, Jack looked up and asked his partner, ‘I’ve just been wondering, Annie. How exactly did you manage to land this job? No offence, but you’re obviously still learning the ropes of the private eye game and we haven’t worked together on any similar cases.’
‘You’re right, I know absolutely nothing about shoplifting. But since I started working with you, I have become fairly proficient at bullshitting. This I’ve learned is an excellent substitute for actual knowledge on any given subject.’
‘Ouch.’
‘So I told the manager at the store that we’d recently successfully worked on a similar case, involving another big Glasgow store. I explained that strict client confidentiality prevented me from sharing the actual name of the store, or disclosing the extent of their losses. He seemed impressed by that.’
‘That was very clever, Annie. I like that.’
‘Yes, but unfortunately that’s been the extent of my cleverness. I’ve been praying that you would come back to work soon and rescue me, before I’m rumbled.’
'Remind me, how long have you been working on this?' asked Jack.
'It’s only been a week, but I haven't got anywhere. Although it’s not for the want of trying, because I've been out on the sales floor and the rest of the time up in the office watching the CCTV cameras, along with their in-house security team. They made me these copies of security videos, for days when they suffered the heaviest losses, and I've been going over them endlessly at home and here in the office. To be fair, the store security guys don’t have a clue either, whether it's an inside job involving staff, or a professional shoplifting gang that's responsible. All they do know for sure is that the shoplifters are really good, because they haven't been able to catch them at it. Not a sniff. They've been all over these tapes like a rash, but they still don't know how it's being done.'
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