by Ian Todd
“Whit aboot aw the hooses that hiv been tanned?” asked The Inspector.
“We don’t hiv any proof at this point that they hid anything tae dae wae the hooses, bit we’ll keep oor ears tae the ground meantime,” Big Jim replied oan everwan’s behauf.
“We’ll start hauling their arses in, every chance we get,” The Sarge stated, looking aboot, getting affirmitive nods back.
“Okay…well…keep me posted. And, Crisscross, don’t let me hear that ye’ve been briefing yer faither-in-law again aboot operational matters, particularly regarding oor intelligence gathering. Ah mean, we widnae want him tae know that it wis you that scudded Jinty oan the napper, efter he sends that wee shitehoose doon fur three years, noo wid we?” The Inspector reminded him.
Chapter Eight
The Sarge hid only recently been promoted in the past two years and hid been transferred within the Central Division that covered the Gorbals, Bridgeton, Toonheid, Anderson and parts ae Partick. His beat covered the Toonheid area, mair commonly highlighted as C-Four in pink oan the city division wall maps doon in Central HQ. He wis glad tae be back oan the streets where he’d served his apprenticeship and wis noo wan ae the two local uniformed sergeants. The place hidnae changed much since he’d been away, although he’d heard that there wis aw sorts ae plans fur a big clearoot ae the slums o’er the next few years, tae build a motorway. No before time, he thought. It wisnae that big ae an area compared tae some ae the big hoosing schemes like Castlemilk, bit they wur aw packed in like sardines between Castle Street and Dundas Street. The patch wis compact. The Fourth and Clyde canal merged wae the Monkland canal in the St Rollox basin at Castle Street and ran the length ae the northern side ae the beat. Aw the industrial company depots, such as the coal and briquette merchants, haulage firms, wire works and the sawmill, wur sprawled either side ae the canal. The beat then took in Dobbies Loan up as far as Pinkston Power Station, which dominated the skyline wae its big grey cooling tower and two red brick chimneys. Ye then hid the goods station, bus yards and the big brewery companies stretching towards Coocaddens and the west. The southern side ae the patch included the public baths, Rottenrow Maternity Hospital, Strathclyde University, Glesga College ae Commerce and the back end ae Queen Street Railway Station. The East started jist behind Castle Street where The Royal Infirmary and the two local picture hooses, The Carlton and The Casino stood. This wis also where the two main road arteries through the Toonheid started heiding west intae the toon centre, either doon Parliamentary Road, wae aw its shoaps and pubs oan either side, as far as Dundas Street Bus Station or doon Cathedral street towards Queen Street Train Station. If ye didnae want tae bump intae anywan ye owed money tae, ye could try yer luck by leaving Castle Street via Stirling Road which ran straight intae Cathedral Street and eventually hit Dundas Street at its southern end. Heidin doon this route wis less populated wae hooses and shoaps because ye hid Collins the book publishers, Allan Glen’s School fur the posh boys, Stow College ae Hairdressing and the Orange Order Hall, aw oan the right haun side. This wis the route tae take if yer debts wur deadly and ye wanted tae catch a train north fae the train station. In the middle ae aw this learning, leisure, industry and recovery, ye hid thirty five thousand people crammed intae slums that hidnae changed much in o’er a century.
Although he’d hid a few wee war wounds oan his travels, his successful approach tae polis work hid been rightly recognised and rewarded and hidnae changed fae the traditional approach as applied by Glesga’s finest fur as long as anywan could remember.
“Put a boot right up the arses ae bampots, toe-rags and in particular the thieving wee basturts who ur running roond the streets at aw hours, terrorising everywan and their dug,” the master crime fighter hid stated tae Colin, the inspector, and aw his new Toonheid colleagues, in reply tae the warm welcome spiel he’d goat at Central two years earlier.
Talking ae dugs, he thought aboot whit The Inspector hid said tae him that very efternoon before he started the back shift.
“As well as that wee manky gang ae misfits who ur breaking intae shoaps, make sure ye put the squeeze oan that local Toi mob that ur still hinging aboot the street corners at the end ae McAslin Street and Grafton Square,” The Inspector hid reminded him.
He’d tried tae tell the Inspector that it wisnae the Toonheid Toi, the local street gang, that they needed tae be concerned aboot, bit that thieving wee gang ae manky toe-rags who wur stealing everything that wisnae screwed doon. Hid he no awready put hauf ae the Toi intae approved schools or borstals and the few that wur left hinging aroond couldnae get intae a fight, even if they tried? The Inspector hid been insistent though.
“Listen, Liam, if JP Donnelly says there’s gang trouble up in Toonheid, then there’s bloody gang trouble. Ah want tae see some improvement o’er the next wee while that shows we’re cracking doon.”
So, the pressure wis oan. There hid been a couple ae stabbings recently in The Grafton Bar where the victims hid included Tam the Bam, who wis the heid barman, and his dug, Elvis. Everywan knew fine well that it hid been Tam’s wife who’d inflicted the damage efter accusing Tam ae trying tae dip his wick intae her ugly sister. Tae ensure she kept her mooth shut, Tam, the bam that he wis, hid proceeded tae try and strangle his wife’s sister in front ae a full hoose. While aw this wis in progress, his wife, who wis also as drunk as a fart and leading the chorus tae ‘The Auld Rugged Cross’, hid taken umbrage at the assault oan her sister and hid proceeded tae stab Tam in the arse wae the spiked end ae her stainless steel comb, while he hid his sister-in-law bent backwards o’er the bar wae two hauns aroond her throat, howling that he loved his wife. Elvis hid goat in the way ae Sister Psycho while his teeth wur gum deep in Tam’s other cheek. It wis only when Tam hid goat arrested up at The Royal fur breach ae the peace efter demanding they patch up Elvis first, that the story ae Tam and his dug being set upon and stabbed by the Toonheid Toi hid been reported. JP Donnelly, the local cooncillor and Justice ae the Peace, a wee fat sleekit basturt wae the morals ae an alley cat who’d his fingers in aw sorts ae gravy pies, hid let Tam aff the next morning efter a night in the chokey, wae a warning aboot his future behaviour. He’d then goat oan the blower two days efter his meeting wae The Chief Inspector, tae demand something be done tae tackle the gang culture oan the patch.
Colin, The Inspector, reckoned JP wis aiming fur parliament. The local bizzies wid need tae strike a balance in the Toonheid, The Sarge thought tae himsel. The focus needed tae be oan the wee toe-rags who wur the walking crime statistics, before they upset the apple cart and spoilt things fur everywan. Wan pilfering wee toe-rag could quite easily put the statistics intae double or triple figures compared tae some wee eejit hinging aboot a street corner shouting ‘Toi, Ya Bass’ twice a week.
His thoughts wur suddenly and abruptly interrupted by the sight ae the targets, who’d jist appeared at the closemooth ae the tenement building across fae where him and Crisscross wur lying under a clump ae bushes.
“See the bigger wan ae the two? The wan wae the red hair?” The Sarge asked.
“Aye, whit aboot him?” asked PC Chris Cross, who wis acknowledged by aw and sundry as no being the shiniest star in the galaxy and affectionately called ‘Crisscross’ by friend and foe alike.
Crisscross wis unfortunate tae be blessed wae the biggest squint that hid ever been launched oot ae The Rottenrow delivery room. Everywan knew that he’d hid it since he wis a wee snapper. According tae his personnel file though, he’d caught a severe dose ae Strabismus efter he wis accepted intae the force, so as he wis awready in, they hid tae let him stay. The fact that he wis married tae JP Donnelly’s two ton daughter, Fat Sally Sally, a probationary lieutenant in the local branch ae the Sally Army, wis purely coincidental. It wis also jist a coincidence that JP hid been the chair ae the Police board at the time ae Crisscross’s recruitment.
“That’s the Taylor boy who screwed the shoap in St James’s Road,” The Sarge reminded him.
“Aye, Ah know.”
“Fur Christ’s sake, Crisscross, where did ye get they eyes fae? It looks as if wan’s aff tae the bar fur a roond and the other wan’s coming back wae the change,” she’d howled as the place erupted in laughter.
When he’d tried tae book her oan a breach ae the peace fur her cheek, it hid nearly caused a riot. She’d denied that she’d started them aw aff and cited every lying basturt in the lounge as witnesses. In order tae no lose face, he’d been forced tae let her aff wae a warning.
“Ah want tae talk wae that wan first and his wee pal second,” The Sarge murmured, peering through the hole he’d made in the bush.
“Whit’s he done that his mate hisnae?” asked Crisscross.
“Jist look at the pair ae wee thieving basturts. They’re probably planning their next move oan how tae break intae every shoap and gas meter in the area while we’re hivving tae be lying here, daeing sweet fuck aw tae stoap them,” The Sarge hissed, ignoring the question.
“Ah telt ye we should’ve lifted him when we goat the info fae the wee fat grass,” Crisscross reminded him.
“And Ah telt ye the reason we couldnae.”
“Aye, bit if we cannae use Fatty’s info, then we’ll need a bit mair luck than we’ve hid recently tae score a conviction.”
“Ah know fur a fact that that wee red-haired cretin will spill the beans if we kin only get him oan his lonesome.”
“Aye, Fat Boy said that it wis definetly this pair who screwed the tobacconist’s, alang wae the two we nabbed.”
“Aye, there’s nae doubt aboot it, Crisscross…we’re looking at yer typical wee manky thieving toe-rags that seems tae be bred tae order here in the Toonheid.”
It wisnae as easy as it looked, The Sarge thought. How could he and Crisscross get fae the bushes where they wur lying, tae nab wan ae them. They’d need tae be mair than quick oan their feet tae get a sniff ae this pair. These wee basturts wur brought up oan breid and dripping and wur as quick as whippets.
“Dae ye want tae jist charge across and try and nab wan ae them then?”
“Naw, this calls fur a bit ae the auld special ops moves that we used when Ah wis a pavement pounder doon in Bridgeton, before Ah goat ma spotted arse up oan tae the greasy pole,” stated The Sarge.
“So, ye don’t think there’s any way we’ll make it across the car park and street before they’re offskie?”
“There’s nae chance that’ll work. Here’s the plan. Take yer jaicket, hat and tie aff and nip doon the side ae the nursery oan tae Cathedral Street. Casually stroll past the bottom ae the street as if ye’re heiding intae the toon centre. When ye cross o’er the street, don’t look up. These wee vermin hiv goat built-in radar. When ye’re past the corner, nip up the first close besides Cherry’s, the sweetie shoap, and heid up through the back courts. Ye’ll need tae coont the closes noo. The wan ye’re efter will be the fourth wan up. Ah’ll gie ye five minutes as ye’ll hiv tae climb up o’er aw the dykes and high walls. Hiv ye goat that?”
“Right, dae ye want me tae charge through the back close when Ah get tae it?” asked Crisscross, turning and looking at The Sarge.
“Naw, you jist wait till they come tae you. Ah’ll be right up their arses. Remember, it’s the Taylor snapper we’re efter as number wan. Leave yer gear here under the bushes and we’ll get it when we come back.”
Efter synchronising their watches, Crisscross crept back doon the rear ae the nursery and nipped o’er the iron fence at the other side ae the building oan tae Cathedral Street. The Sarge saw Crisscross saunter past the bottom ae the street withoot looking up, before disappearing oot ae view. This wis at exactly the same time as Elvis, Tam the Bam’s dug, turned intae the street and wis limping up the pavement in the direction ae the toe-rags. He noticed that its arse wis shaved and it hid a big white sticking plaster oan it. He turned his attention back tae the toe-rags. He’d need tae be very careful here, he thought. The boys wur staunin at the entrence tae wan-wan-nine and the Taylor boy lived up oan the tap flair ae wan-wan-seven. He’d hiv tae make sure that he wis across the wee car park and street in time tae block him aff fae running doon and nipping up his ain closemooth. He’d also need tae watch oot fur that maw ae his. He’d hid several run-ins wae her and that hairy mob she commanded, who wur always turning up at warrant sales in the area, gieing it big shit against the Sheriff officers who wur only daeing their job. The worst time hid been when she accused him ae assaulting her when him and Big Jim hid turned up at her door tae lift her eldest fur shooting wan ae the Martin lassies wae an air rifle. He couldnae remember the lassie’s name noo, bit it hid been the big loud wan wae the ootsize paps. There she’d been, two weeks efter JFK’s funeral, flouncing doon the street like a dancing hippo, aw excited because she’d jist won first prize fur hivving never been aff sick since she’d started school at five and the eldest Tayloy boy hid goat her bang oan the left pap. Him or his mate who wis wae him hid goat her fae the tap flair windae ae the tenement. When The Sarge hid managed tae get o’er the doorstep, her boy and his mate wur surrounded by books and hid denied any knowledge ae the shooting, claiming that they wur jist daeing their hamework. It wis said that if Jackie Kennedy hid been in George Square that day, she’d hiv heard the sound ae the shot and the shriek that the lassie hid come oot wae. Wan thing hid then led tae another and a scuffle hid broken oot which hid ended up wae him getting a black eye and the maw getting two staved fingers. She claimed that he’d hit her wae his baton as she defended her son and the son claimed that he’d punched The Sarge in self-defence. It hid been obvious that he’d only said that tae get the maw aff. There hid been compromises oan baith sides. The assault charges hid been drapped against her and her charges ae assault hid been drapped against him. The son, a right fucking thug, hid goat put away tae borstal by JP fur resisting arrest and assaulting baith Big Jim and The Sarge, amongst other ootstauning charges fur fighting wae the polis previously. That hid been wan ae his first successful convictions efter being back in the Toonheid. They never did find the air rifle, despite turning the hoose upside doon. Mrs Martin said her daughter hid been hoping tae be a glamour model bit wisnae sure if she’d be accepted noo that she wis scarred fur life. Aw the boys at the station who’d viewed the evidence photos hid disagreed wae her and the lassie hid been their official pin up fur ages until wan ae the boys’ brother-in-law, who worked in the smut squad doon in London, sent up a couple ae photos ae Christine Keeler and Mandy Rice Davies carpet-munching and that wis that…nae mair punctured paps up oan the canteen wall. He looked at his watch. He’d gie Crisscross another minute and then make his move. He noticed the black and white minstrels making a fuss ae Elvis and wondered if Crisscross wis awready waiting at the back ae the closemooth.
Crisscross only hid wan wall tae scale in the back courts, bit managed tae mess it up by trying tae take a short cut alang a ledge behind the tyre garage opposite the back closes ae the tenements. He’d been making good time side-shuffling, when he came across broken glass embedded in cement oan the ledge, blocking his way. He looked aboot. There wis a cabin dookit sitting oan tap ae the middens, leaning against the last wall he hid tae climb o’er. Flypast, the local doo man, hid obviously stuck the glass in tae stoap doo thieves getting access tae the pigeons in his dookit. He looked across at the dookit. Apart fae the landing board at the tap where a nice wee hen and grizzly doo wur showing aff tae each other, the cabin itsel wis made ae upright auld doors tae form the shell. It looked like Fort Knox, straight oot ae The Man Fae Uncle, he thought tae himsel. The distance between him and the midden that
hid the dookit sitting oan tap ae it wis aboot five feet, Crisscross reckoned, as he launched himself, legs gaun like the clappers tae gie him mair acceleration across the divide. The leap wid’ve put Lynn Davies tae shame, he thought tae himsel, as he flew through the air. Wae his erms and hauns ootstretched like Batman, he managed tae grab baith sides ae the landing board oan this, his wan and only maiden flight. Everything seemed tae go tae plan as his two size elevens thudded oan tae the wee ledge in front ae the cabin. Unfortunately, this wis followed a split second later by his face and body ricocheting aff the front ae it. Oan the rebound, and still clutching the sides ae the landing board, the whole side ae the dookit followed him backwards intae the midden below. By a stroke ae luck, he landed oan the bottom edge ae an auld mattress that hid been chucked oot ae wan ae the tenements, which managed tae break his fall as he became engulfed in six hooses worth ae the usual cat litter, coal ash, used fanny-pads, shitey nappy contents and everything else that the clatty basturts who lived there hid thrown oot o’er the previous two weeks. Oan his backwards trajectory, wae his heid poking up between the landing board and nesting boxes oan either side ae it, amidst the scattering pigeons and feather explosions, Crisscross thought he caught sight ae Flypast sitting oan whit looked like a comfy seat wae his tadger in wan haun, a copy ae True Detective in the other, and a look ae abject terror splashed across his face.
Crisscross tried tae open his eyes. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he could hear bells and a screeching eerie voice. When he finally managed tae get his eyes unstuck, he thought he must’ve landed in hell. He could taste the burnt ash and see a big swirling grey cloud that smelled heavily ae cats pish. The screeching crescendo jist aboot caused him tae shite his pants as a contorted grotesque face suddenly appeared through the cloud. He tried tae escape, bit there wis a massive weight pressing doon oan his chest that made flight impossible. The face wis trying tae tell him something, bit he couldnae make oot whit it wis saying fur the ringing ae the bells in his lugs.