The Betrayal

by Linda Tweedie

  “I want to know who did this, and now!” Paddy demanded of Michael.

  “For Christ’s sake, Paddy, Sean spent all his bleeding life upsetting folk. It would take the whole of Strathclyde Constabulary to pull everyone in who had a grudge against him.”

  “I don’t give a fuck! We have to be seen to be tightening up and anyone, and I mean anyone, making noises or idle threats gets hammered. Don’t you want to get even with whoever did this? ‘Cause they were not kiddin’ around.”

  “I think it was an opportunist hit,” Marie put her tuppence worth in.

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” snapped Paddy.

  “What do you mean nonsense? Think about what we know.”

  “Well, that’ll take a while,” her brothers spoke in unison.

  “Listen, if you were going out to get someone, you’d be tooled up, yes?”

  “Yes, well you wouldn’t depend on a beer bottle and a chib, now, would you?”

  Paddy was mulling over his sister’s theory and actually it made a lot of sense. It had more credibility than one of their rivals arranging a meet and then doing him over, as Marie said, with a random choice of weapons. But still, he had to be seen to be doing something; Paddy had to make someone pay.

  Truth

  Over the following few days Bridget and Lizzie kept vigil at Sean’s bedside. His brothers and sister visited several times to check on his condition, but business was business and Paddy kept up the pretence that they were pursuing the culprit, or culprits.

  The barman on duty that day had been pulled in by the brothers, with no success, but he was out of action for a number of weeks until his face less resembled a pumpkin. Most of the customers were easily located, all being creatures of habit, and despite a few slaps, their memories failed them. Even the tempting ransom on offer brought no fresh information. No-one could remember who had been in the pub that day and the description of the gangland assassin varied between a dead ringer for Osama Bin Laden and television presenter Richard Madeley. The family were beginning to believe Marie’s theory that Sean had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the attacker might well have been a random jakey with a sore head after all.

  Despite the initial confrontation with Dr McLeod, he and Paddy rubbed along reasonably well. The young doctor kept the family up to date, always addressing them in layman’s terms, so that even Lizzie understood what was happening and what they could expect. It had been decided, because of Sean’s drug habit and alcohol consumption, that he would be kept in a controlled coma.

  Dr McLeod explained that this procedure was to alleviate the withdrawal symptoms and give Sean’s internal injuries and the swelling on his brain a chance to heal, without any undue stress.

  “Do you think he can hear us?” Lizzie asked her daughter-in-law. “Often I see his eyes flicker as if he knows what we’re talking about.”

  “I’m sure he can, and if not, it certainly won’t do him any harm,” replied Bridget.

  “What’s going on with you two? I’ve never seen either of you in a strop like this.” The old girl was upset and hated the fact that there was strife between husband and wife.

  “Don’t worry, Lizzie. It’s something and nothing and we’ll sort it out when this is done,” Bridget pointed to the bed where Sean lay.

  “Bridget, I’m not stupid, and don’t treat me like an auld daftie. I can see there’s something serious going on, and if you don’t fix it now you might be too late. My son loves you, any damn fool can see that, and I know you feel the same. So swallow your pride, girl, and get things back to normal.”

  “If he loves me that much, what the hell was he shacking up with a twenty-year-old stripper for?”

  “Rubbish. I don’t believe a word of it. Who the hell told you that nonsense?”

  “His sister.”

  “Marie?”

  “Well, to the best of my knowledge she’s his only sister.”

  “And a feckin’ shit-stirring one at that.”

  “Now Lizzie, she doesn’t know she told me. It was something she let slip and I put two and two together and got the gold star.”

  “Paddy wouldn’t cheat on you, lass.”

  “Lizzie, he’s taken the odd flyer from time to time since we got together, but they’ve never bothered me. And I know how much he did care for me, but this one was different. It wasn’t a one-nighter, and I suspect he only came back for a clean shirt, but all this got in the way.”

  “I’ll feckin’ skin him alive, and Marie too, for that matter. She should keep her big gob shut.”

  “Lizzie, it would have come out sometime. So don’t go blaming anyone, this is all down to Paddy being Mr Big and I’m not having it.”

  “What are you going to do, darling? Whatever it is, I’ll stand by you, son or no son.”

  Bridget knew how much it took for Lizzie to say that, her family came first before everyone.

  Confessions

  Michael was well pissed off at his twin brother. Despite him being in a coma, it seemed he could cause agg even from a hospital bed. Michael’s car had gone missing. Sean had taken the liberty of using it while his was supposedly in the garage, and it had not been seen since. Sean’s car, a brand new Jaguar, was in the garage all right, but in bits, never to be re-assembled. A fact he omitted to relay to his brother.

  “When he recovers, he’s being assigned a feckin’ Sinclair C5 and if anything happens to it, he’ll take the bus. Three cars in four months, Paddy. Two wrecks and one only God knows where. Have you any idea how much that’s cost? I’m telling you, he’s a bloody liability and not just with cars.”

  Paddy’s head shot up from the accounts book he was studying. “Are you trying to tell me something, Mick? By the way, this doesn’t balance.” He pointed to the old-fashioned ledger. “I’ve checked it and double-checked, but there’s still a difference of almost ten big ones. It looks like it’s just been written off.”

  Despite the installation of the most up to date technology, the real book keeping was still done by hand, in code, in old leather-bound ledgers.

  “You’re not going to like this, and I was going to tell you, but with Sean in hospital and you on your ‘jollies’, I have to say I pretty much forgot about it.”

  “Are you telling me that we’ve been fleeced for ten grand and you forgot about it?” Paddy was incredulous. “Michael, I remember when we were kids and a lad in your class borrowed ten bob off you. You were still going on about it after you’d left school, so don’t give me that old fanny that you forgot ten grand was missing. Who are you covering for, or do I have to ask?”

  Michael had not expected Paddy to pick up on the discrepancy, but it just went to show that nothing got past the Big Man. “I wasn’t covering exactly, and let’s face it, Paddy, if I had the inclination to hide money none of you would ever find it.”

  “Okay, point taken. So what else am I not going to like?”

  “I had to pay off Joe Malloy.”

  “Joe Malloy? Why the fuck would you be paying him off?”

  Paddy had known the man in question for twenty-odd years, they went way back to Borstal and never in all that time had either party had a problem with the other.

  “Sean had tickets all round town and a few faces were beginning to get jittery, saying we weren’t good for the dough, so I paid him. I tried to get hold of you at the time, but you and he had gone walkabout.”

  “Why would the word go out we had problems, for Christ’s sake?”

  “The debts were months old and Sean was avoiding everyone. And, of course, you weren’t to be seen. You know better than anyone how fast news travels, especially bad news. That’s precisely the time we would move in for the kill. So why would the same not happen to the Coyles?”

  “Because we are the Coyles,” Paddy snapped back. “Who’s been sniffing around? I think I need to go visit a few ‘friends’.”

  “I agree you need to make your presence felt, but we need to sort our own house first, ever
yone else will keep.”

  Paddy reluctantly agreed with Michael; it was time for him to get back out on the streets and be seen, but God help anyone not playing ball. He would extinguish them, with or without Michael’s blessing.

  “You need to have a word with Marie, she’s toiling a bit and I have to say, Sean was giving her a seriously hard time.”

  “I heard a few rumours from . . . well, from when I was away,” blustered Paddy. “How serious is the drug problem?”

  “Bad enough, but his behaviour is so fucking erratic, thank God he’s where he is.”

  “Surely a few weeks will get him clean and then we can send him off for a bit of R & R?”

  “Fine. I can live with that, we’ve got plenty muscle, but who’s going to do his collections?”

  “Tiny Carter has been working the round with him for the past year and I’ve just taken on Gerry Fairnie. He got out of stir a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Christ, I’d forgotten all about him. Didn’t his missus top herself or something?”

  “Yeah, bad situation. She got done for possession. The kids got taken off them and she, well, she couldn’t hack it.”

  “Are you sure he’s up to a job on this scale?”

  “We’ll soon know. He’s not a guy you would argue with and Tiny knows the score. Funny, he seemed quite taken that he was filling in for Sean.”

  Official

  “Sign here, here and here,” the woman on duty at the service desk said to Bobby. “That’s fine, and now, Mummy, you sign here and here.”

  When she had completed the remainder of the form, the council official congratulated the young couple, “Ryan McLelland is officially registered as being born in the City of Glasgow,” she said as she handed over the certificate. “That will be ten pounds, please.”

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like a copy too.” Bobby turned to Erin, knowing that this was his best chance of obtaining the document without an inquisition.

  “Sure, no problem. But why?” Erin puzzled.

  “I know it sounds crazy, but if anything were to happen to either of us, well . . . I’d just like to have it.”

  “That’s another ten pounds,” said the lady behind the desk.

  Handing over the money Bobby felt like he’d just bought a couple of bottles of beer. Officially becoming a father had completely underwhelmed him. Ryan was a grand wee chap, and he certainly was the absolute image of Pete, Bobby’s dad. But for Bobby that was it. There was no wave of emotion, in fact, no emotion at all. He didn’t feel that this lad was part of him, he was just a kid. And as for the mother? Well, she was a good-looking chick, but no way could he settle for only her. Nope, he was desperate to get back to his life in Marbella, and that was just around the corner. They left the Registry Office in silence.

  The cousins were waiting outside in a brand new Porsche.

  “Jesus, are you crazy?” said an indignant Erin. “You’re bound to get caught driving this around town and we’ll all end up getting nicked.”

  “Naw, you’re more likely to get caught driving a pissing Ford Mondeo than something like this. I’m telling you, it’s all about nerve. No-one would ever suspect a car like this, being driven round town, would be nicked. You just have to front it, man. You’re a right fucking wimp for being Paddy Coyle’s daughter.”

  “Shut up! Do you think I’m worried what you pair think? Listen, I’d just be embarrassed to be caught in a stolen car, especially one cheaper than those parked in our drive. My father would kill me for letting the side down, and the reason he never gets a tug is that he doesn’t pull juvenile stunts like this.” She turned to Bobby, “You can do what you like, but I’m off.”

  For the second time they parted company outside the Registry Office. Only this time he had what he wanted.

  He jumped into the Porsche.

  “Okay, where to now?” asked John.

  “This is your Captain speaking; we are flying at a height of . . .”

  The cousins were sorry to see Bobby go, but with the promise of an invite to the christening and a holiday in the sun, they celebrated by dumping the Porsche and disappeared out of the multi-storey car park in their most daring steal to date. The Lord Provost of Glasgow would be riding in a black cab for the foreseeable future.

  My God, this was luxury, thought John. Maybe he’d take their mammy to the bingo in the limo tonight . . .

  Discovery

  “Morning, boss,” old Tam, the night watchman greeted Paddy. “Don’t often see you this early. Been thrown out?” the man chuckled. “Wait here till I get the boys.” His piercing whistle brought two sleek, vicious-looking Doberman Pinschers from the depths of the yard, straight to his side.

  Although the dogs knew Paddy, they were in attack mode until their master commanded otherwise and Paddy knew better than to move. One word from the old fella and the two dogs frolicked like pups around the men, their duties abandoned.

  “Anything interesting, Tam? Has anyone been snooping around?”

  “Naw, quiet as a grave. The lads here would put anyone off paying us a visit. Would you take your chances against them?” he laughed.

  “No way, worth their weight in Kennomeat they are.” Paddy handed the man a score as he made his way into the office, “Here, buy them a juicy bone from their uncle Paddy.”

  “Sorry, boss. Actually there was something,” Tam called out. “I was going to leave a note for the dayshift guys. Michael needs to shift his car. The boys will be working that area with the cranes over the next couple of days and it could get damaged.”

  “Michael’s car?” Paddy frowned. “Where is it?”

  “Round at number two bay. It’s well in, and if these buggers hadn’t been chasing a friggin’ huge rat I would never have seen it.” Tam was far too canny to offer an opinion as to why the car was hidden so well.

  “Show me.”

  And the two men walked together to the far end of the scrapyard.

  This was Sean’s work, thought Paddy, and he obviously wanted the vehicle out of sight, but why? There were no bumps or scratches which would get Michael’s temper up. The car looked intact.

  “Thanks, Tam, I’ll get Michael to move it as soon as he arrives, but not a word to anyone else, okay?”

  It was really too early to phone Michael, but Paddy was sure that there was no spare car key in the office. What the fuck had Sean been playing at? There was obviously something he wanted kept hidden. Contraband, guns or drugs in the vehicle. Why else would it be stashed out of sight?

  “Michael, you up?”

  “What the fuck is it with you lot? Its five o’clock in the fucking morning. I only got to bed an hour ago. This better be an emergency.”

  “I found your car.”

  “It’s been missing for nearly a month, a couple more hours wouldn’t have mattered.”

  “It was hidden.”

  “Not that well if you found it. Look, Paddy, I’m fucking shattered, let’s continue this conversation later. I’m glad you found my car, thank you very much.” The line went dead.

  Paddy hated anyone, including his brothers, getting the better of him. He had a feeling about this situation and wanted the car well out of the way before the yard opened at eight.

  The constant ringing permeated his dream. “What the fuck?” Michael gave Margee a sharp prod with his elbow. “Somebody at the door,” he muttered.

  “What?”

  “Somebody’s at the door.”

  “Well, get up and answer it,” his sleepy partner grumbled.

  “For fuck’s sake, give it a rest. I’m coming!” Michael bawled at the visitor.

  “Sorry to get you up, but I need your spare keys.”

  “Spare keys for what?”

  “The keys to your car, I told you it’s been found. Any chance of a coffee?”

  “Fuck off.” Michael rummaged through drawers, a fruit bowl and eventually located the keys in the obvious place, on a board marked ‘Keys’. “Here, now piss off. I’l
l be in later,” and he slammed the front door closed.

  Back at the yard, and accompanied by the dogs bounding back and forth, Paddy made his way to bay two.

  He was aware of a loud humming sound, as if an engine had been left running. He sprung the boot open and the reason for the sound became evident. He was faced with his worst nightmare; the interior of the car was a seething, crawling black mass. It was like something from a horror movie, but this was real and Paddy was shocked rigid.

  The dogs were yelping and squealing as they ran for their lives from the terrifying black swarm. Hundreds of thousands of insects swamped them as they raced for safety towards their master, who stood open-mouthed at the scene unfolding.

  Paddy fell to the ground, desperately trying to cover himself with his coat, as swarm upon swarm of insects smothered him. They were in his hair, up his nose and he lost count of how many he swallowed. He was covered in the living, seething mass, which flew from the boot in seemingly endless waves. But it was the smell that floored him completely. Never in his life had he inhaled anything like this disgusting, malodorous stench of rotting flesh. Gagging and retching, he staggered to his feet. He had to get away, but how? He couldn’t see. Eventually, after what seemed to be hours, he struggled into a nearby vehicle which gave him some shelter. What the fuck had created that mass? Paddy had to find out, but he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready to face what lay in the missing car.

  Paddy Coyle had certainly not lived a sheltered life and had been responsible for many atrocities in his day, but the sight of the putrefied body of a young boy, seething with maggots and flies, would haunt him to the day he died. And to think that a brother of his was responsible made him even sicker to his stomach.