by Ian Todd
“Ah never touched the wee prick…honest,” he heard a voice plead.
“Never mind that, Jack. Sling him in the back seat before anywan clocks us.”
And wae that, he wis shipped aff doon tae the Central polis station in the Saltmarket. When he arrived, they took his name, address and age before leading him intae a cell. Tony, Skull and Joe wur awready sitting there, facing the door, like three monkeys in a cage. Tony put his finger up tae his lips as Johnboy went o’er and sat doon at the far end, watching his partners in crime. Johnboy looked aroond. Tony wis sitting wae his knees drawn up and his heid resting face doon oan his erms, Joe wis lying flat oot oan his back wae his eyes shut and Skull wis pacing roond and roond like wan ae his doos. The cell wis made ae white brick tiles and there wis a shape ae a mattress made ae concrete in a corner and a windae way up oan tap that let a wee bit ae light in. A bare bulb shone intae the cell through a hole in the wall, high above the door and there wis a cludgie sitting in the corner that hid a constant dribble ae water running doon intae the bowl. Johnboy couldnae figure oot how ye wur meant tae flush it. Nowan spoke fur aboot five minutes, which must’ve been a world record fur Joe and Skull.
“Fuck this!” Skull suddenly announced, his voice echoing as he kicked aff his fitba boots, exposing three dirty pink toes sticking oot ae wan sock and his big toe oot ae a hole in the other. “Anywan fur a game ae keepy-up?”
Efter rolling his socks intae a baw, he started tae play keepy-up wae his new fitba. He started aff wae three keepy-ups and then increased it till he managed fourteen before it landed oan the deck. Before long, everywan hid taken their socks aff so that they ended up wae a decent sized fitba. They played two a-side, then penalties, using the door as the goal and then the four ae them played keepy-up. Whichever ae them drapped it hid tae dae five press-ups as a penalty.
Efter aboot four hours, the bizzies started taking them oot, wan at a time, until there wis jist Johnboy left, sitting oan his tod. When his turn came, he wis led intae a room wae The Sarge and Crisscross.
“Right, ya wee cretin, ye. Where’s ma wife’s money?”
“Ah dunno.”
“Who shat in ma good hat, eh?”
“Dunno.”
“Who wiped their arse oan ma good sheet then?”
“Dunno.”
“Dae ye know that poor wee African weans ur gonnae no hiv a meal the night because ae the likes ae you?”
Silence.
“They poor wee African weans won’t be able tae afford shoes tae go tae school because ae you. Whit hiv ye tae say tae that, eh?”
Silence.
“Tell us whit ye’ve been up tae and we’ll let ye aff Scot-free.”
Silence.
“Look, we know everything that ye’ve been up tae aw summer. We know aboot screwing aw the shoaps in the Toonheid and we know it wis youse who tanned aw the electrical shoaps and nicked their trannys.”
Silence.
“C’moan, Johnboy, we know ye done it. It’ll be better fur ye in the long run if ye tell us the truth.”
Silence.
“Look, we’ve goat yer fingerprints fae oot ae ma hoose. They wur aw o’er ma wardrobe doors, so they wur.”
Silence, bit wae a wee glance at Crisscross.
“Aye, that’s right, Johnboy. Ye’re done, bang tae rights oan this wan, so ye ur.”
“We took yer prints aff the station coonter when ye came in. So, there’s nae argument. Ye’ll be in The Grove the morra, getting yer arse felt…or worse, if ye don’t own up, right this minute!”
The baith ae them didnae take their eyes aff ae him. He could feel their penetrating gaze drilling through him. Well, if Johnboy wis being honest, he couldnae actually be sure aboot Crisscross, bit he certainly wisnae mistaken aboot the sergeant. He eventually put up his haun. The look ae triumph oan the bizzies’ faces when they glanced at each other made Johnboy feel a wee bit guilty, bit he didnae hiv any choice.
“Aye, whit dae ye want tae say, son?” The Sarge asked kindly, wee black notebook in haun and pencil at the ready.
“Please, sir, Ah need a shite.”
“Aw, fur fuck’s sake! Ur ye taking the pish oot ae us, eh? Answer me,” Crisscross bawled at him.
“Why did ye no go before we brought ye in here, eh?”
“There’s a fucking cludgie in the cell. Why did ye no use it when ye hid a chance, eh?”
“There wis nae toilet paper.”
“Fuck this. Get him oot ae here, Crisscross, before Ah end up in the chokey masel.”
Crisscross frog-marched Johnboy back tae the corridor where the cells wur. He slung him in wan that wis sitting there empty, wae its door open.
“Get in there, ya wee manky toe-rag, ye,” he snarled, slamming the door shut.
Johnboy lay doon oan the concrete mattress and started tae hum ‘Hoose Ae The Rising Sun’. He wis sure it wis by a group called The Animals. Before he goat tae his favourite bit...the chorus...he heard another hummer joining in. By the end ae the chorus, four hums wur gieing it big laldy.
“Okay, so whit’s this wan?” he heard Joe shouting fae wan ae the other cells, starting tae hum another tune.
“Ah cannae hum, by the Hum Dingers?” Skull shouted.
“Humming oot ae Tune, by the Midnight Meows?” Tony chipped in.
“Fuck aff, ya shite hooses! Who is it?”
“Ticket Tae Ride Yer Maw by The Beatles,” Johnboy shouted, as they aw joined in wae Joe.
“Shit, Ah widnae hiv goat that wan,” Tony shouted, being honest fur wan ae the few times in his life.
“Ma turn,” shouted Skull.
“Sarge! Crisscross! C’mere and listen tae this,” Creeping Jesus, the turnkey, shouted o’er tae them.
The baith ae them joined the group ae pavement pounders who wur sitting o’er by the door leading tae the cells and cocked their lugs.
“That’s an easy wan. ‘The Loco-Motion’ by Little Eva,” Crisscross chipped in, chuffed wae himsel.
“Crisscross, Ah don’t bloody believe you. They wee toe-rags hiv jist broken intae yer hoose, shat in yer good service dress hat, wiped their arses oan yer wife’s bed sheet, which seeped through oan tae yer mattress and fucked aff wae yer wife’s can collection that she’s been collecting fur months…and here ye ur, joining in tae play name that fucking tune. Ur ye wise or whit?” The Sarge said, looking at him in disgust before stomping aff, muttering under his breath.
“Right, Mrs Taylor, calm doon and let me explain. The reason that Johnboy is here is because we hiv reason tae believe that he’s been involved in a number ae break-ins tae shoaps and hooses o’er the past six weeks.”
“Says who?” Helen demanded.
“Says me,” replied The Inspector.
“Hiv you been breaking intae shoaps and hooses, Johnboy?” she growled, turning tae him wae a scowl that wid’ve scared a priest witless.
“Who? Me? Naw, Ma.”
“Right, where’s yer evidence then?” she asked, looking straight at The Sarge and Crisscross who wur staunin behind The Inspector’s chair.
“It’s intelligence-based.”
“So, explain tae us whit the intelligence is that ye’ve goat?”
“Whit? Ah cannae dae that,” The Inspector retorted, as if she wis some sort ae a dafty.
He looked across at the other maws sitting behind and tae the right ae Helen.
“Why no?”
“Because as the word implies, we goat the information via oor confidential sources.”
“Ye mean, some wee blabber-mooth his telt ye something tae get this pair aff ae his back, and ye’ve lifted ma boy?” Helen snarled, nodding towards The Sarge and Crisscross.
“The intelligence his came fae a wide range ae sources. It’s no jist the wan source.”
“Right, so, spill the beans then. Get yer wide range ae sources tae get their arses in here quick and let’s hear their side ae the story.”
“Ah don’t think ye quite understaun, Mrs Taylor.”
“Excuse me, bit Ah think it’s you who disnae understaun.”
“Well, Ah beg tae differ, of course, if Ah don’t mind saying so masel.”
“Well, there’s a surprise. Well, let me tell ye whit ma sources hiv been telling me, based oan equally reliable intelligence. Oh, and by the way, so as there’s nae doubt or misunderstaunin here, while ma intelligence wis also recieved confidentially, ma sources hiv informed me that they’re aw prepared tae come forward and sign a sworn statement.”
“Ah’m sorry, bit Ah don’t see whit this has goat tae dae wi...”
“First aff, Ah hiv fifteen witnesses…aw good honest neighbours…who reported tae me that that big sergeant staunin behind ye, wae a smirk oan his face, assaulted ma ten year auld son by grabbing him by the hair and the throat in ma back close a few weeks ago. When Ah intervened tae establish whit wis gaun oan, Ah goat verbally abused by him and his side-kick. Ma sources, who ur also ma witnesses, telt me the side-kick wis easily recognised due tae the fact that they’d never come across a squint as bad as the wan that the officer hid plastered aw oor his face oan that particular day. Other sources hiv also informed me that this pair hiv been stalking ma boy and his pals aboot the streets, aw through the summer holidays, trying tae get people tae make up stories aboot them, because Burke and Hare here, ur trying tae make oot that they’re responsible fur breaking intae the nursery at the bottom ae ma street. Ma sources also tell me that youse hiv awready charged two local boys who hiv awready confessed tae that crime...”
“Mrs Taylor, Ah don...”
“Ah also received intelligence fae his grandmother and her neighbours earlier the day, who hiv also said they’d gie signed statements, that two big polis officers ran ma boy doon in a squad car in McAslin Street and then proceeded tae assault him before manhaundling him intae the back ae a car and kidnapping him.”
“Look, Mrs Taylor, Ah really don’t think ye’ve goat a leg tae staun oan. This is aw supposition,” The Inspector scoffed, leaning back in his chair, wae his hauns behind his neck.
“Johnboy, staun up!” Helen demanded, twirling him roond and lifting his hair up at the back ae his heid. “Did ye come hame wae that big lump oan yer heid last night? Tell the truth noo.”
“Naw, Ma.”
“Turn roond this way,” she said, twirling him back roond tae face the uniforms and lifting up his jumper.
The bizzies aw gasped at the size ae his sultana.
“Whit dae ye call this then?”
“Ah kin promise ye right noo that we didnae lay a finger oan him,” The Sarge interupted, gawping at Johnboy’s crushed crusty nipple and Betty’s fingerprints that wur stamped oan his chest like a clump ae badly done blue tatoos.
Tony and Joe’s maws sat wae their eyes popping oot ae their heids as Helen twirled Johnboy roond tae show them.
“Wid ye say that looks like fingerprints oan him?”
“Aye,” they murmured, as Johnboy wis twirled roond again, starting tae feel dizzy.
“Mrs Taylor, Ah kin assure ye that ma officers wid never dae such a thing and tae even suggest that they wid, amounts tae slander.”
“Whit time wis ma boy picked up efter he wis run o’er by that squad car?”
“Yer boy wis arrested oan suspicion ae committing the break-ins at ten thirty this morning.”
“And whit time is it noo?”
“It’s nine forty-five. Why?”
“At night?”
“At night.”
“Hiv youse aw hid something tae eat and drink the day?” Helen asked the boys.
“Naw,” they chorused.
“So, apart fae the harassment, slander, assault, and denial ae food and water, ye’ve locked up a ten year auld boy fur…fur eleven and a quarter hours. Is that legal?”
There wis a stunned silence in the office. The only sound wis a bluebottle buzzing oan the windae, trying tae get oot ae the mad-hoose. Helen sat staring intae The Inspector’s eyes. He blinked first. His jaw wis moving, bit nothing wis coming oot ae that gub ae his.
“Ah’m waiting fur ma answer, Inspector Clouseau.”
“Well, ah, well...”
“Aye, Ah didnae think so. Right, Johnboy, ye kin let yer jumper doon noo. Let’s go, before Ah really lose ma temper.”
And wae that, she stood up and stomped o’er tae the door and held it open fur everywan.
“You as well, son,” she added tae Skull, who shot aff his chair and oot the door wae a big grin plastered across that manky face ae his.
Chapter Forty
“So, whit did he dae then?” Helen’s maw asked her, when Helen telt her whit hid happened doon at Central the night before.
“Christ knows. Aw Ah saw before Ah disappeared wis the wee ugly inspector sitting there wae his mooth open, catching flies, looking as if Ah’d jist slapped him oan the kisser and that pair ae eejits looking aboot them as if a hurricane hid jist passed through.”
“Aw, Helen, Ah’m so proud ae ye, hen. That’ll teach them tae cross the lioness when her cub is in trouble.”
“Ah hear whit ye’re saying, Maw, bit Ah’m really worried aboot whit’s gonnae happen tae him noo. They wullnae leave any stane unturned till they get him, will they?”
“Ah widnae be too sure ae that. Ye’ve still goat aw yer evidence that they’ve been oot tae get him and his wee pals by using aw sorts ae shitey tricks. There must be a law against that, surely?”
“Ye should’ve heard whit they wur accusing him ae. Breaking intae this and intae that. Christ, where wid he hiv goat aw the time?”
“No forgetting he’s been oot grafting, selling briquettes, as well as getting interested in pigeon breeding.”
“Fleeing the doos.”
“Whit?”
“It’s called fleeing the doos.”
“Ah know that.”
“Dis ma da know?”
“Aye. Well, when Mary and Bridie helped me roond tae the hoose, Ah could hardly staun up, Ah wis that shocked. Ah thought that big car hid killed him. Yer da wis in an awful state as well. By the time he went roond tae see whit wis happening, Johnboy hid awready been carted aff.”
“Aw, Ah’m sorry, Maw. That goes fur Da as well. Ye shouldnae hiv tae put up wae aw this at your age.”
“Och, away ye go. Ah’m only sorry that me and yer da didnae hiv a wee boy or two oorsels. Yer da prefers the lassies, bit Ah like the boys, masel. There’s jist something animal aboot them, if ye know whit Ah mean,” she said, grinning.
“Aye, ye should try living wae them. It wid put ye aff animals fur life, believe you me.”
“So, Bridie’s grandson put ye right oan whit happened?”
“Aye, he telt me that he couldnae get aroond earlier wae the news as he’d been working until six o’clock. It wis only then Ah found oot fae oor Anne, who’s friendly wae the wee Atalian wan’s sister, whit’s being gaun oan. She telt oor Anne that her wee brother and his mates wur getting a lot ae hassle fae the local polis and she thought oor Johnboy wis wan ae them.”
“The dirty frigging pigs that they ur. Hassling wee boys when there’s real criminals oan the go.”
“Oh, hello Da. Hard day then?”
“Jist the usual,” he said, sitting doon and opening the paper. “How’s that boy ae yours?”
“Fine, fine. They telt me it wis a mistaken identity and apologised fur any trouble.”
“A bit heavy-haunded, if ye ask me. Wait till Ah see that Crisscross wan. Ah’ll ask him tae dae a wee bit ae investigating oan the quiet and tae put the word oot tae make sure it disnae happen again.”
“Aye, ye dae that, Da.”
“Fur Christ’s sake! In the name ae the wee man!” Granda exclaimed.
“Whit?” they baith chorused,
“It says here in the Pat Roller column, ‘Break-in At Respected Couple’s Hoose - Constable Chris Cross and his wife, Salvation Army Probationary Lieutenant Sally Cross, hid their hoose broken intae last Thursday night in the Toonheid district ae Glesga. Due tae the employment a
e PC Cross, his address his been omitted fae this report. A substantial amount ae money wis stolen fae the residence, as well as substantial malicious damage inflicted oan their property by the perpetrators. Probationary Lieutenant Cross hid tae be rushed tae The Royal Infirmary wae shock efter she and her Salvation Army lodgers came hame tae discover the dastardly deed.’”
“Aye, she always wis a drama queen, that wan,” Helen’s maw said.
“Ah’ll jist ignore that remark, dear,” Granda tut-tutted, looking o’er the tap ae the paper at her.
“Hurry up, and don’t take aw night, Da. Get oan wae it.”
“‘Miss Anita Bendoer, wan ae the lodgers staying in the hoose, says it wis such a shock knowing some strangers fingers hid been rifling through her drawers and that if anywan knew the identity ae the said person, they should get in touch as soon as possible. Anonymity will be guaranteed. Meanwhile, Mrs Cross said that some weans in Africa will go hungry the night because their parents hiv nae money tae feed them.’”
“She makes me want tae puke, that wan,” Helen murmered disgustedly.
“Gonnae no say that?” her da growled, looking o’er at her, clearly irritated.
“Whit wan’s the wan that’s obviously in need ae a man, Helen?”
“Ah’m no too sure. There’s three ae them…aw heiding fur spinstersville…guaranteed. Arses the size ae a rich wummin’s Saturday’s shoapping bag.”
“Ah cannae believe youse two. These poor defenceless wummin, aw living there oan their lonesomes, while Crisscross is oot at aw times ae the day and night, trying tae keep us safe in oor beds. Whit’s the matter wae youse, eh?”
“Carry oan and stoap whinging. Ah wis starting tae enjoy that until ye stoapped reading,” her maw said, interrupting him.
“Where’s ma scrambled eggs?”
“Where’s the rest ae that story, Clark Kent?”
“How dae ye know aboot Superman, Maw?”
“That Charlie ae yours used tae bring roond his DC comics when he’d finished reading them...before he fell oot wae yer da, that is. Superman wis ma favourite.”
“Aw, Ah never knew that. Whit a lovely thing tae dae.”