by Ian Todd
“Ah’m surprised they wurnae roond…it’s jist no like them.”
“Well, we shouldnae hiv long tae wait. Ah cannae see them sleeping in this morning. That alarm wid waken the bloody deid, so it wid,” Joe said, as Roger Daltrey screamed that he wanted tae die before he goat auld, as they aw cackled.
8.42 A.M.
“Whit the fuck?”
“Naw. Please! Please God, waken me the fuck up.”
“We’ve been tanned!”
Danny’s brain wis the first tae shift intae second gear.
“The Horsemen!” Danny yelped in panic.
He staggered tae the far end ae the loft, passing aw the open, empty nesting boxes, followed by Shaun and Mick, who stomped oan the alarm clock oan the way past tae shut the thing up.
“The basturts hiv taken The Big Man’s Horsemen. We’re deid!”
“Look, Shaun, they’ve came in o’er here…the thieving, miserable fuck-pigs.”
“There’s nothing lower than a snake that’ll steal another doo-man’s doos.”
“They’ve left some ae the doos…look!”
“They must’ve been disturbed.”
“Aye…when we came in fae the boozer. Ah knew Ah should’ve checked the doos before Ah crashed oot.”
“So, it wis your fault then?” Shaun and Danny said accusingly at the same time.
“Naw, Ah’m no saying that. Ye know whit Ah mean. We aw fucked up oan this wan.”
“The Big Man will kill us.”
“Right, who’ve we goat?”
“It’s bound tae be that wee fucking Tally and his baldy pal. Ah wid put ma life oan it.”
“Danny?”
“It could be that Flypast wan. Ah’m still no convinced that he’s as daft as he makes oot.”
“Flypast wis at the do last night, pished as a fart. He pished aw o’er his troosers when Ah wis staunin beside him in the lavvy, daeing a pish…so it wisnae him.”
“Ah’m telling ye, Shaun, odds oan it’s that wee manky mob…the dirty thieving wee shitehooses. Ah’m gonnae personally droon every wan ae them when Ah get these hauns oan them…wan by wan…efter Ah’ve strangled fuck oot ae them first,” Mick said, haudin up his trembling hauns tae demonstrate.
“Aye, they’re the wans Ah’d put ma money oan. That wee Tony wan wid manage tae pull this aff. Bit why wid he shite in his ain nest? There’s nae way they’d be able tae shift that amount ae doos withoot everywan in the toon knowing.”
“Whoever it wis, must’ve goat away wae aboot fifty tae sixty doos.”
“And they couldnae flee them withoot us finding oot aboot it.”
“Hiv they paid the rest ae whit they owe us? Yesterday wis the deadline.”
“The Tally wan came intae the pub wae the money yesterday morning. The Big Man telt him Ah wis busy and that Ah’d get it the day.”
“It’s bound tae be them. Who else could it be?”
Silence.
“Ah’m jist no sure. It’s jist too fucking obvious. It could be that the pricks that did this wid know that the young wans wid get the blame,” Shaun wondered oot loud.
“Well, there’s only wan way tae find oot. Let’s get tae fuck roond tae that cabin and see whit they hiv tae say fur themsels.”
9.10 A.M.
“Kin ye see whit Ah see?” Crisscross asked The Sarge who wis driving up the High Street fae Central.
“Whit?”
“They wee manky wans walking towards us. Quick, slow doon.”
“Whit wans?”
“That pair jist walking past The Auld College Bar?”
“Whit aboot them?”
“Look at their jumpers. They’ve goat doos stashed up them.”
“So? They’re obviously heiding doon tae Paddy’s.”
“Aye, well, no wae they doos, they’re no. Pull o’er.”
“Right, youse two, where dae ye think youse ur aff tae?” Crisscross growled at the two boys, as he stepped oot ae the squad car.
“Doon tae Paddy’s. He opens at ten.”
“Whit fur?”
“Tae sell oor doos,” the wee wan said, wiping his nose oan the sleeve ae his jumper, as he blinked in the sunlight.
“We’re looking fur two wee manky scallywags wae stolen doos, fitting yer descriptions,” The Sarge said, wondering whit the hell Crisscross wis up tae.
“Well, it’s nae us. The last time ma social worker clocked me, she telt ma maw Ah wis beyond description and that if Ah didnae get smartened up, Ah’d be taken intae care.”
“Well, ye need tae understaun where we’re coming fae. We’ve been reliably informed that two wee toe-rags wae ginger hair…bit clearly no brothers…manky as fuck, faces mockit wae dirt, arses ripped oot ae their troosers…baith ae them wae sleeves full ae dried snotter, baith in short troosers, skint knees, full ae dried scabs stuck oan them…wan no wearing any socks and baith wae the backs ae their shoes shackled tae fuck…wan aboot seven, wae nae a tooth in his heid and the other aboot eight, hid nicked some poor doo man’s doos.”
”So?”
“So, c’moan and look at yer reflections in this good clean squad car windae. You take the back windae and yer wee pal, Goofy, the front passenger wan. Noo, tell me whit youse see?”
“Ah cannae see below ma waist,” the big wan said, looking in the back passenger windae.
“Ah’ll tell ye whit we kin see. The wee basturts we’re looking fur,” Sherlock Holmes, wae the bad squint in baith eyes declared triumphantly.
“Bit, Goofy hid two front teeth. Ah don’t,” the wee wan wae nae front teeth bleated, trying tae wangle his wae oot ae the I.D.
“Don’t get lippy wae us. We’re the polis,” The Sarge snarled, getting irritated at the cheek he wis hivving tae put up wae at this time oan a Sunday morning.
“Right,” said Crisscross, opening the boot. “Chuck they doos in here, while we decide whit tae dae wae youse.”
“Ma maw said Ah’m too young tae be charged wae anything,” Goofy howled, taking two doos oot fae under his jumper and tossing them intae the boot.
“Aye, bit we could always take ye in fur a warning, couldn’t we? That means yer maw hivving tae troop aw the way doon tae Central tae pick youse up efter the warning. Is that whit youse really want? Eh?”
The two boys jist stood and stared at them withoot saying anything.
“Whit dae ye think, Crisscross?”
“Ah don’t know,” Crisscross replied.
“Well, Ah’m aw fur letting them aff this time.”
“Ye reckon? Er, aye, okay. Bit, jist this wance. The next time, they’ll be nicked.”
“Right, youse two…fuck aff and don’t let us see youse doon here again,” The Sarge said, as the two bizzies opened the car doors.
“That’s fucking daylight robbery, ya basturts, ye,” Goofy whistled through the bare gums ae that mooth ae his at the departing polis car.
“Crisscross, why the hell hiv we goat four smelly doos wandering aboot in the back ae the car, shiting aw o’er the boot?”
“Let’s heid fur Montrose Street and pay Flypast a wee visit. Whit time is it?”
“Twenty past nine.”
“Jist in time fur a tea break. Ah hope that saft bampot’s goat biscuits.”
9.20 A.M.
“Right, Mick…you stay in the car. Danny, ye’re wae me, bit Ah’ll dae aw the talking. If it wisnae them, Ah don’t want it tae be known that we’ve been robbed.”
“Aw, Ah wanted tae come in.”
“You stay in the car. If we need ye, ye’ll soon know. Grab any wee shite-hoose ye see bolting oot ae the door ae the cabin though.”
“Awright, boys?” Shaun announced, as his scar-faced coupon appeared through the beads, followed by Danny.
“Hellorerr Shaun…grab a seat,” Tony invited, as he stood up tae make room, while Danny stood blocking the door wae wan haun in his jaicket pocket.
“So, whit hiv youse been up tae then?”
“Robbing everywan blind, trying tae put the dos
h thegither tae pay aff the cabin. Ah came roond tae The McAslin yesterday, bit The Big Man said ye wur busy and ye’d collect yer money the day.”
“Aye, he said ye wur in. Youse must’ve been busy tae put a score thegither in a week, eh?”
“Here ye go then. It’s aw there, if ye want tae coont it,” Tony said, trying tae haun o’er eight single pound and four ten bob notes and two bulging smelly socks wae knots in each end, each wae a fiver in coins in them.
Shaun jist smiled when he saw them.
“Aye, we think we left something doon in the cavie efter we left. A box ae candles, Ah think Mick said it wis,” Shaun said, searching the eyes ae the boys fur any tell-tale sign ae doo thievery.
“They wur under the cot. Ah’ve used two ae them,” Skull chipped in, reaching up tae the shelf and taking them doon, as Shaun gied a wee fleeting glance across tae Danny by the door.
“If it’s aw the same wae youse, we’ll jist hiv a wee gander anyway,” Danny said, as he pulled up the cavie trap door, goat oan his knees and peered doon, pulling a torch oot ae his pocket.
Johnboy hid the biggest urge ae his life tae use Danny’s back as a springboard oot ae the door, wance Danny’s heid disappeared oot ae sight through the flair. The quick reappearance ae that napper ae his probably saved Johnboy’s as well as everywan else’s lives that morning.
“Don’t fret, Ah’ll soon replace the two Ah used, Shaun,” Skull murmured sarcastically.
“Ach, don’t worry. We’ll no fall oot o’er a couple ae candles, eh?” Shaun replied, picking up the two heavy socks wae the coins and throwing them o’er tae Danny.
“Some wee basturt’s goat rotten feet oan them,” Danny said, haudin the socks away fae himsel.
“So, whit’s the score wae getting mair doos, Tony?” Shaun asked him, eyes boring intae Skull’s.
“Noo that we’ve paid youse aff, we’ll be able tae invest in some mair. Ye widnae be in the market tae sell any, seeing as ye’ve goat a ton ae them up in that loft ae yours, wid ye?” Skull retorted before Tony could reply.
Johnboy jist aboot fainted oan the spot when Skull came oot wae that wan.
“We’re in the breeding business. We buy…we don’t sell. Ye might want tae hit Paddy’s. They’ve goat plenty in your price bracket.”
Please, please, please, Skull…please don’t answer that wan…oh God, Johnboy silently prayed.
“Aye, we’re thinking ae hinging oan tae oor money and trying tae buy an upmarket big Horseman Thief Pouter. There’s a few good wans oan the go, Ah hear, fur us tae start oor ain breeding programme...if we kin bring in some ae they wee hens ae yours that Ah clocked flying aboot aw o’er the roofs this morning.”
Johnboy wondered why the hell he hidnae taken his chance when Danny’s back wis bent o’er the cavie. He could feel that arsehole ae his stretching tae breaking point.
“So, ye’ve goat a wee bit ae dosh put aside, hiv youse?”
“Naw, bit we will hiv when we dae an all-nighter and take they sheets ae copper sheeting aff the records building up in Sighthill cemetery,” Tony chipped in, tae nervous laughter fae them aw, including Shaun.
Danny’s face remained dour.
“Right, boys, we’ve goat things tae dae. We cannae be staunin aboot here talking tae youse young runts aw day. Aw the best wae the cabin and gie’s a shout when ye’re ready tae put a doo up against wan ae oor wee hens, Skull,” Shaun said, staunin up and heiding fur the door.
“Aye, Ah cannae wait, Shaun.”
9.30 A.M.
“Ur ye in, Flypast?” Crisscross shouted.
“Oh, er…hello Crisscross…Sarge. Ah never expected tae see youse here the day,” he said, looking at them, feeling aw flustered and hauf expecting the Murphys tae appear at any second.
“Is that a wee cup ae tea we kin smell?”
“Naw, Ah’ve run oot.”
Flypast wondered whit the fuck these pair ae shite-hooses wur up tae. Hid the Murphys sent them roond tae check him oot?
“Ach, well, never mind. Maybe another time, eh?”
“Dae youse want tae come in?”
“Naw, naw, bit we’ve goat a wee present fur ye.”
“Oh?”
“Aye, get that arse ae yers doon here and come and hiv a look,” Crisscross said, walking away.
When Flypast didnae follow, Crisscross stoaped and turned roond, beckoning Flypast tae follow.
“Well, C’moan…don’t look so confused. Ye’ll be pleased. It’s jist oot in the car.”
“Oh, er, bit...”
“It’s awright, Flypast, ya daft eejit. We’re no gonnae bite ye. Ye’ll be okay. Oot ye come,” encouraged The Sarge, following Crisscross. “And bring a cardboard box wae ye, while ye’re at it.”
When flypast came through the close ae wan-wan-five, the two ae them wur staunin at the boot ae the polis car wae big grins spread across their coupons.
“Right, first of aw, Ah jist want tae officially say sorry fur wrecking yer cabin earlier oan in the summer. And secondly, tae show ye that we keep oor word and that there’s nae hard feelings oan oor part, these ur fur you,” Crisscross said, opening the boot and chirruping, “Da, da, daaaah!” wae a flourish ae his right erm.
Flypast jist aboot drapped deid oan the spot. Where the fuck hid they come fae? Wur they aff that batch fae the previous night? Oh ma God, Ah’m deid, his brain wis screaming as it started tae melt.
“So, say something then, ya daft sausage, ye,” The Sarge said.
“Uh, oh, er, four doos. Where did ye get them fae?”
“Never you mind that, Flypast. Jist you get them intae that wee box ae yours and go and enjoy them. Ah know Ah probably killed mair than four daeing ma Batman impersonation, bit it’s a start, eh?”
“Er, Ah don’t know whit tae say,” he mumbled in a state ae shock. “Look, Ah cannae take these. Youse keep them, Ah’ve goat plenty ae ma ain.”
“Naw, naw, stoap being aw bashful noo. Everything’s above board. They’re fae us tae you. Right, we don’t know how tae haundle them, so get them intae that cardboard box ae yours before they shite even mair in ma good boot,” The Sarge said.
Flypast waved them aff as they did a U-turn and heided back doon tae Cathedral Street, turning left towards Stirling Road. He then scurried up the stairs tae tell his maw he wis aff doon tae Paddy’s wae some doos.
“Bit Ah’m jist aboot tae make ye some toast fur yer breakfast, son.”
“Ah’ll get it when Ah get back, Maw.”
Wae that, he wis aff across Cathedral Street, o’er the brow ae the hill and doon Montrose Street, heiding fur the Saltmarket, as fast as his legs could carry him.
9.32 A.M.
“Well, whit dae ye think then? Whit’s the Hampden Glory?” Mick asked, when Shaun and Danny plapped their arses back in the Jag.
“Whit dae ye think, Danny?” Shaun asked, turning roond tae face him in the back seat.
“Ah jist don’t know. Ah’m no sure.”
“Ah don’t think it wis them.”
“Why no?”
“Did ye hear that wee baldy mongol? There’s nae way that wee cocky knob-heid wid’ve went oan aboot buying a Horseman and mentioning aw oor escaped hens flying aboot aw o’er the place, if it wis them.”
“That’s whit Ah wis thinking, bit they could still be at it. Did ye see that wee ginger heided wan? Ah thought he wis aboot tae shite himsel the minute we came in through the curtain.”
“Aye, bit he wis like that when they first came roond and we flogged them the cabin.”
“So, whit ur youse baith saying then?” Mick asked, looking fae wan tae the other.
“Ma money’s elsewhere. Let’s nip roond and see The Big Man. We’ll need tae get it o’er and done wae sooner or later. Fuck knows whit we’re gonnae say tae him.”
“And then we’ll heid doon tae Paddy’s. He might’ve hid some daft bampot in selling the doos. Ye never know…whoever took them might no know whit they’ve goat.”
9.33 A.M.
“Skull, ya bloody left tit, ye. Ur ye trying tae get us bloody murdered?” Johnboy wailed.
“Whit?”
“Aw that shite aboot buying a Horseman and aw they wee hens flying aboot. Don’t tell me ye deliberately let aw they bloody doos oot ae their cages tae fly aboot the Toonheid as well?”
“Whit the fuck wid Ah dae something like that fur?”
“Ye bloody shat in their good McCluskeys’ ashet steak pie.”
“How dae ye know it wis a McCluskeys?”
“Ah don’t. That’s whit ma maw always buys.”
“Well, get yer facts right then.”
“Ye know whit Ah mean, ya selfish wanker, ye.”
“Anyway, shiting in that pie ae theirs is different.”
“Why’s that different?”
“Because letting the doos oot widnae help them. Hauf ae them wid jist come back and the other hauf wid get killed by the scabby hawkers.”
“Whit?”
“He means that the haun-reared good dookit doos wid be attacked and done in by the scabby wild doos, Johnboy,” Joe said.
“Ah think ye did brilliant masel, Skull,” Tony said.
“See? Ya fanny, ye!”
9.45 A.M.
“Right, Ah want the word oot. Any bampot, and Ah mean any, caught selling or buying wan ae ma Horsemen Thief Pouters or good doos is gonnae get fucking tortured tae death and then shot in the heid,” The Big Man raged, pacing up and doon in his favourite silk dressing gown…the wan wae the arse ripped oot ae it at the back.
“We wurnae too sure if ye wanted us tae go public wae this.”
“Public? Ah want every doo man and their scabby dugs tae know Ah’m oan their trail. Ah’m telling ye, some basturt or basturts ur gonnae die fur this.”
“We’ve awready started tae look.”
“Where?”
“Well, the first place we hit wis that wee manky mob who we flogged the cabin tae.”
“And?”
“Ah’m no sure they’d anything tae dae wae it.”
“Of course they bloody well did! They’re the only fucking wans stupid enough. Ah want ye tae get back roond tae that cabin and kidnap the wee basturts and take them roond tae the beer cellar in the pub. They’ll soon fucking tell me.”
“That’s the point Ah’m making, Pat. They’re too obvious. Everywan knows fine well that we’ll think it wis them. Look at Oswald.”