by Ian Todd
“The Big Man won’t go for it.”
“Look, we need tae develop oor ain contacts. We’ve asked fur access tae The Rat fur years and hiv been telt tae fuck aff. She’s a good investigative journalist. It’s no as if whoever’s gieing her a start is getting a numpty. They kin start her oan the bottom rung. It’ll gie me a crust tae take back tae the rest ae them. She’s wan ae the lassies and aw The Mankys like her.”
“We’ll see,” Wan-bob scowled, dying no tae burst oot laughing, realising that hivving wan ae their ain oan the inside tae concentrate oan digging the dirt oan the inspector that wis in fur murdering his bizzy wife, wid take the pressure away fae the gangster heidlines. Him and Charlie hid heard some juicy stories aboot whit the wife murderer and the rest ae that Irish Brigade hid been getting up tae o’er the years wae aw they young, tarty WPCs…the clatty basturts. “She better be good.”
“When aw this is o’er wae, we need tae talk, so we dae.”
“We’re talking noo.”
“Ye know fine well whit Ah mean, Bob. We’re looking tae expand.”
“We’ll speak when me and Charlie get oot ae here. Is that it?”
“Naw, me and Simon want tae take o’er a few wee derelict properties in the toon.”
“The toon?”
“The toon centre. They’re jist wee hole in the wall types ae properties.”
“Fur whit?” The Auld Badger demanded suspiciously, instantly smelling a rat.
“We want tae open a few wee cafes, so we dae.”
“Cafes?”
“Aye, like they continental wans ye get in France and that.”
“In whit?”
“In that they’re licensed, where people kin get a bottle ae decent beer or a glass ae wine wae a wee snack.”
“Nae chance.”
“Why?”
“Because Ah said so, that’s why. Youse wee fuckers wid start drawing attention tae yersels and us alang wae youse. Before we knew it, ye’d be dealing aw sorts ae shite oot ae them.”
“Naw, we widnae. We’re no talking boozers here. We’re talking aboot a mair upmarket, discrete clientele.”
“Naw.”
“Ah hiv tae persuade Simon tae get involved wae your wee bit ae business wae The McGregors. He’s hid his heart set oan opening a continental style café fur ages. If he refuses tae get involved, Ah’m no convinced the others will.”
“Look, don’t fucking come up here and try and shake doon a shaker,” Wan-bob cursed, no believing how easy it hid been tae draw The Mankys intae the situation that wid allow him and Charlie tae focus oan they bizzy basturts up in the hospital wing who wur living the life ae Riley. “And anyway, whit’s stoapping youse?”
“We’ll need a drinks licence.”
“So, fill in an application like everywan else.”
“Bob, we need ye tae make sure the cooncillors gie oor plans the go-aheid.”
“Ah’ve nae influence o’er any cooncillors,” he claimed.
“McCann and Barrow? We’re prepared tae cover any associated costs.”
“Who else is involved in this wee enterprise?”
“Ah’ve jist telt ye, Simon,” he said, as Wan-bob’s left eyebrow ratcheted up a few notches, looking across at him. “And Donna The Prima Donna’s helping us oot here and there…mair in an advisory role,” he admitted.
“Donna The Prima Donna? Ah wis wondering when her name wis gonnae pop up. So, whit’s her involvement then?”
“Thirty percent investment.”
“And the company?”
“We’ve come up wae Toon Centre Holdings.”
“Awready? Youse hiv been busy wee fuckers. So, who’s behind setting up the company?”
Silence.
“Who’s set up the company, fur fuck’s sake?”
“Rainbow Acquisitions,” they baith chimed thegither, as Wan-bob laughed.
“Whit?” Tony scowled, a wee sinking feeling starting up in the pit ae that stomach ae his.
“Ah thought you and that carpet blagger wur supposed tae be smart?”
“We ur,” Tony replied, modestly and oan the defensive.
“So, how much ur they charging fur managing and wangling the taxes?”
“Five tae seven percent. Why?”
“Why? Because youse stupid basturts hiv jist haunded o’er thirty seven percent tae Donna fur a thirty percent investment before youse hiv even started, that’s why, ya glaikit basturt, ye. Ah’d watch her like a hawk, that wan. She dis aw oor books, bit that’s aboot aw we’d let her near. Fuck, wait until Ah tell Charlie that wan,” Wan-bob hooted.
“Look, we needed somewan we could trust tae set this up and manage it right. We don’t mind Donna making a few extra bob. If it’s wan ae her companies behind us, even better,” Tony hit him wae, cursing himsel, wondering whit Simon’s reaction wid be when he telt him.
“Ha! Ha! Youse crack me up, so ye dae.”
“Ah’m glad ye find it amusing,” he said drily.
“They’re no cheap that pair ae pricks.”
“Who?”
“McCann and Barrow. Biggest fucking crooks in the toon.”
“Aye, well, we’re investing fur the future, so money won’t be an issue wae the amount we’ve goat sloshing aboot. So, ur ye okay wae taking care ae things at your end then?”
“As long as we get the doors.”
“Ah’ve jist telt ye, they’re no that sort ae joints. There won’t be any trouble fae anywan, believe you me.”
“Is that it?”
“There’s jist wan mair wee problem that ye kin help us sort oot,” Tony said, thinking he’d be as well tae get hung fur a sheep as a lamb.
“Right, Ah’m fucking warning ye, ya wee grease-ball basturt, ye,” Wan-bob growled at him.
“Ach, don’t worry Bob. This is a piss-easy wan. Ye’ve awready taken care ae a similar situation a wee while back, so ye hiv.”
Chapter Thirty Nine
Wilma sat oan wan ae the four chairs that wur lined up alang the wall ootside ward twelve ae Gartloch Psychiatric Hospital, as it wis noo called. She’d missed a turn at Gartcosh Village and hid ended up stuck in the traffic jist ootside Coatbridge. She now knew where the word gothic hid originated fae, efter walking up towards the main building, trying tae keep the horizontal sleet fae blinding they eyes ae hers. It wis the building fae every psycho horror film that she’d ever watched in the pictures. She’d been hauf expecting people tae be wailing, chained and shackled tae the walls or peering madly through the slots ae oak studded doors, gaun by the look ae the place fae the ootside.
“And you are?” the nurse hid turned and demanded tae know, the wan that hid asked her tae follow her efter she’d explained that naw, she wisnae family, bit a work colleague.
“Inspector Thain. Ye seem surprised by ma presence,” she’d said tae the nurse, no sure if it wis the family or work connection that hid clearly upset her.
“You’re the first visitor she’s hid,” the nurse hid replied withoot turning roond, clearly disappointed.
She sounded and looked awfully like Nurse Ratched, the horrible big nurse fae that new film her and Ronnie hid gone tae see in the Odeon doon oan Renfield Street a few months earlier, Wan Flew O’er The Cuckoo’s Nest, before the dirty basturt hid dumped her and the weans fur a floozy called Chantelle.
“Oh,” wis aw she’d been able tae muster in reply.
“Wait here and Ah’ll see if she kin cope wae a visitor,” Nurse Ratched hid commanded, before disappearing through intae the ward.
She wis surprised nowan fae the work hid been up tae see her until she remembered that Collette wisnae the maist popular polis officer stationed up in Possil. Wilma remembered Collette’s personnel file saying that she hid a brother. She wondered whit hid become ae him? Maybe he didnae drive. It wid’ve been a hard place tae reach fae the toon withoot a car. She knew that Collette’s ma and da wur baith deceased. Her Da hid been shot deid across in Kinning park in 1958, while trying tae disarm a soldier hame oan leave, who’d
also shot and killed his wife efter he’d discovered that she’d been hivving an affair while he’d been fighting the Mau Mau oot in Kenya. They’d hung the soldier up in Barlinnie. Seemingly, the funeral procession fur her da hid stretched aw the way up the High Street fae The Saltmarket tae Glesga Cathedral oan Castle Street. She looked back alang the corridor in the direction fae where she’d jist come. Whit a way tae treat the daughter ae a fallen hero, she thought tae hersel. Wilma still wisnae sure why she wis sitting there efter managing tae catch up wae Pricilla Presley. Guilt maybe? Grasping at straws? Her tone ae voice when addressing Nurse Ratched, hid the air ae somewan, a colleague, who wis concerned fur a fellow officer. If she wis honest, she wis mair concerned aboot trying tae find oot whit hid become ae the letters aw the ex-poliswummin hid written, before Susan McFarlane, the young WPC that hid been raped across in the polis social club in the Gorbals, hid passed them oan tae Collette up at the Cadder Bridge a couple a years later. She must’ve been aboot twenty-three or four noo. Before arriving at Pricilla’s flat unannounced, she’d heided up tae the bridge. Despite it being bloody freezing, there hid still been people oan the go, wummin wae weans in strollers, auld guys feeding the ducks, some junkie looking guy staunin staring intae the manky water oan the middle ae the bridge, who’d assured her that he wisnae contemplating suicide.
“Ah’d be deid before Ah droont wae aw the shite that’s been dumped in there o’er the years,” he’d sniffed.
It hid been such a depressing sight. None ae the people she’d spoken tae hid admitted tae hivving come across Collette James, or anywan fitting her description, up at the canal the previous October. She wisnae even sure if Collette hid been in civvies or her uniform at the time.
“In ye come,” Pricilla hid invited her stiffly, efter she’d turned up at her door. “Ye know where ye’re gaun,” she’d said, staunin aside tae allow her tae enter.
The place hid been as before. Clean and tidy, still looking like the diner oot ae Happy Days.
“So, where’s the wean? At school?” she’d asked, trying tae sound normal under the circumstances.
She thought Pricilla hid aged. There wur wee grey wisps ae hair there that she hidnae clocked before or maybe she hidnae dyed it in a while?
“So?” Pricilla hid asked, still using that stiff voice ae hers, as she laid the mug ae tea doon oan the Formica topped table. “Is that Teddy Bear wan still gaun doon fur life?”
“Look, Pricilla, Ah’m sorry Ah hivnae been back in contact. We’re snowed under jist noo, so we ur. Ye’ve probably read the heidlines in aw the papers,” she’d replied, trying tae enhance her apology, by slipping in a bit ae a grovel tone tae that voice ae hers. “He’s admitted killing Lesley.”
“Aye, bit the murder charge still stauns?”
“The fact is that he’s pleading guilty, so it looks like he’ll go up oan a reduced charge, so he will.”
“Whit, culpable homicide? Efter whit that basturt done?” Pricilla hid snarled accusingly at her.
“The High Courts ur jam packed, Pricilla. Aw the wee Neds in the street gangs ur stabbing the hell oot ae each other jist noo, so they ur. If ye think they wur bad in your day, ye should see them noo. Although there isnae any arrests so far wae aw this black butcher stuff gaun oan, they think it’s imminent,” she lied. “They’re talking aboot putting oan an extra sitting in Edinburgh and Glesga in the middle ae the month oan tap ae the usual first week, it’s that bad. If there’s a deal tae be had, then this is the time fur the defence briefs in the toon tae take advantage. The procurator fiscal’s office is willing tae be mair accommodating these days than they wid be in normal circumstances, so they ur.”
“Ah cannae bloody believe this…or youse,” Pricilla hid spat.
“Us?”
“Ur ye aware that no only his that Irish Brigade crowd destroyed us, bit youse hiv crushed us tae. You and that bloody Collette wan. Ah knew Ah should’ve listened tae the others. They aw said that we’d get naewhere. Ah wis well warned, so Ah wis,” she’d wept, blowing intae a tissue, before wiping the tears fae her eyes.
“Pricilla, Collette…”
“Goat promoted? Aye, Ah know. We aw heard. Ah’ve lost aw ma friends because ae her. Why? Why the hell did Ah listen tae the stupid wee bugger?”
“Pricilla, Collette’s in a psyche ward.”
“Eh?”
“She hid a breakdoon, so she did.”
“Bit…”
“Bobby Mack and that cow ae a sergeant, Sally Burke, interrogated her fur o’er five hours solid, withoot a break, the same efternoon that Duggie Dougan goat shot in her closemooth across in Lawrence Street. The next day when she’d heard whit hid happened tae Lesley, she went intae meltdoon, so she did. Christ knows whit tactics they used oan her, the poor bugger.”
“Is she gonnae be awright?”
“Ah’m no sure…Ah think so. It’s jist a breakdoon,” she’d made the mistake ae saying.
“Jist a breakdoon? Christ, hiv you any idea whit she’s been through, Wilma? Only a breakdoon, fur God’s sake? It’s a wonder she hisnae tried tae jump under a bus.”
“Er, she’d eventually been persuaded by wan ae her neighbours, tae come in aff her tap flair windae ledge, a few days efter being at hame oan her lonesome.”
“So, where is she noo?”
“Gartloch Hospital.”
“And hiv ye been up tae see her?”
“Er, no yet.”
“His anywan fae the force been up tae see how she’s daeing?”
“Probably…Ah’m no sure,” she’d confessed.
“Ye’re no sure? Wilma, whit the hell ur ye daeing roond here? Whit ur ye efter? Ah don’t want you here when Lisa Marie and that man ae mine, Elvis, arrives hame…no efter whit happened the last time. Ah’m barely haudin ma marriage thegither as it is,” she’d cursed, blowing her nose and starting tae weep again.
“Collette…did she ever mention a guardian angel tae you, by any chance?”
“Guardian Angel? Whit…whit kind ae Guardian Angel?”
“Somewan close.”
“She might’ve, bit wae everything that’s happened, ma mind his shut doon. Ah hid tae go tae the doctor…he gied me pills…anti-depressants.”
“Oh, right. Ah’m sorry.”
“No as sorry as me…and the others. Why ur ye asking aboot some Guardian Angel? Ah thought ye jist telt me that Teddy Bare wis wangling a deal fur himsel?”
“If Ah could find they letters or…”
“Or whit?” Pricilla hid shouted at her.
“If the other wummin wur prepared tae come forward and gie us fresh statements,” she’d replied, being stung by the contemptuous laughter being thrown in her face.
“Jist don’t even go there, Wilma…jist bloody well don’t.”
“If Ah managed tae get ma hauns oan they letters, then they probably widnae need ta be involved…at least, no at this stage. It wid mean everywan wid maybe hiv their day in court… including you. The only problem is, time is running oot, so it is.”
“So ye get the letters. Then whit happens?”
“We try and get them introduced in tae the case as Crown evidence.”
“How?” Pricilla demanded tae know.
“Er, Ah’m no sure.”
“Ye’re no sure?”
“Er, naw.”
“Bit, ye’ve still goat the copy ae ma statement that Collette gied tae Lesley…the wan wae her snot and dried blood oan it?”
“Aye.”
“Then, why kin ye no jist submit that as evidence tae the procurator fiscal or jist go in and haun it o’er in person?”
“The investigation in tae the circumstances ae Lesley Bare’s death his been concluded. Me and that partner ae mine, Jean Moffat? We’re currently investigating five murders between us…well, soon tae be four, if whit Jean telt me earlier turns oot okay. The point is, Ah’ve been moved oan. Fur me tae jist walk in wae evidence that isnae new wid…”
“Wilma, please don’t take this persona
lly, bit Ah’d like ye tae leave…as in right noo,” Pricilla hid interrupted her, staunin up fae her stool and turning her back oan her, leaving her tae find her ain way oot ae the flat.
“Inspector Thain? Ye kin come through noo,” a cheery young nurse announced, appearing in front ae her, breaking intae her train ae thought. “Ah’m no sure if ye’ll get much oot ae her…Collette, Ah mean. Between her illness and the medication, she’s a wee bit gone maist ae the time, bit Ah think it’ll dae her good tae hiv a visitor. You’re the first since she’s been admitted. Jist follow me.”
Fur some reason, Wilma thought she’d find Collette in a bed, wae drips hinging oot ae her. Insteid, she wis ushered intae a room…the day room, it said oan the door. Other than some poor auld soul sitting oan her lonesome in a wheelchair across in the corner, leaning back wae her mooth open, staring intae space, Collette wis sitting wae her back tae them humming some tune.
“Collette, hen, look. Ye’ve goat a visitor, so ye hiv,” The wee nurse bent o’er and said kindly, before looking up at Wilma and nodding, as she stood up and left them tae it.
“Catch a falling star and put it in yer pocket, save it fur a rainy day…” Collette hauf sang, hauf hummed, the same nursery rhyme that Wilma used tae sing hersel tae sleep wae, every time that ma ae hers deliberately humiliated her in front ae everywan when she wis a wean.
“Collette? It’s Inspector…Sergeant Thain. We spoke jist before, er, before ye fell ill…” she stammered, kneeling doon in front ae the latest victim ae The Irish Brigade, utterly shocked by her appearance.
“Ur you ma Guardian Angel?” Collette James pitifully asked her, a fleeting expectant look in her eyes, her unused, new sergeant’s stripes still being twiddled between they chewed fingernails ae hers.
“Oh, Collette, whit the hell hiv we done tae ye, hen?” Wilma asked her, as she took a sharp intake ae breath, feeling a wave ae emotion welling up inside her, her eyes smarting, as they began tae fill up wae tears.
“Catch a falling star and put…put it in yer pocket, save it fur…fur a rainy day…” Collette began mumbling in that stuttering, singing voice again, drifting back intae her song, a vacant look in her eyes.