by Ian Todd
“Oh, sorry,” Lesley muttered, stubbing her fag oot in the wee metal Capstan ashtray. “And?”
“And they sauntered across and said hello tae her.”
“Hmm…and then whit?”
“And then that’s it. She introduced them tae me and then they left tae go and grab something tae eat.”
“So, did ye think it wis a set-up?”
“A set-up? Fur Christ’s sake, Lesley. Whit ur they putting in the tea across in Pitt Street? Paranoia tea-leaves?” she laughed.
“Hoi, it wid surprise ye whit appears innocent tae start wae, bit is in actual fact deliberate, so it wid.”
“Ah’m a bizzy, remember?”
“Who else wis there?”
“Nobody…wait, Gucci’s driver…Baby Huey,” they baith chimed thegither, smiling.
“And whit did that fat fucking ogre hiv tae say fur himsel then?” Lesley asked.
“He never came near. He went and parked the car somewhere, before reappearing and grabbing wan ae the wee tables facing the ootside door and goat tore intae some muck, so he did. If ma memory serves me right, Ah think she said hello tae him oan the way oot, so she did.”
“Wur ye aware that yer new best pal, Senga Jackson, shares a flat wae the key witness who wis in the room the night Haufwit Murray supposedly informed Paddy McPhee that Johnboy Taylor didnae shoot Big Liam Thompson and that PC sidekick ae his in the bank up in Maryhill that day?”
“Is that the nurse that wis oan the night shift that…”
“Lizzie Mathieson,” Lesley continued. “She wisnae supposed tae be oan the night shift that night, bit wis asked tae cover, efter Rose Bain, the wee nurse that eventually goat run o’er by a transit van in a hit-and-run job a few months later, hid phoned in sick at the last minute.”
“Ah still don’t see whit the big deal is aboot me and her hivving a wee chin-wag o’er a glass ae wine. Ah mean, she is a nurse, efter aw. Ur they no supposed tae care aboot people?”
“Don’t be sarcastic noo, Collette. It disnae suit that ‘Poor me’ personality ae yers that ye like tae cultivate,” Lesley retorted, before they baith laughed. “And where’s that wee collapsed-arsed waiter ae oors goat tae?” she wondered oot loud, looking aboot.
“Ladies?”
“Same again, Mario,” Lesley replied flirtatiously, as the baith ae them giggled across the table at each other, like a couple ae school lassies and the waiter smiled and disappeared tae get the same again. “So, where wur we?”
“Ye wur saying that ma new pal, Senga Jackson, wisnae really ma pal, bit wis in fact, deliberately trying tae get close tae me fur…fur…whit wis the reason again?”
“Collette, if only ye knew the hauf ae it, hen. You, me, might think that your place in the great scheme ae things is totally insignificant, bit they gangster basturts will dae anything tae get in there, so they will, no matter how far away fae anything worthwhile the victim appears tae be near at the time. These people take the longer view, so they dae.”
“Well, Ah hivnae goat a bloody clue whit ye’ve jist said, bit thanks fur the endorsement. Ah kin see that’s gonnae dae ma confidence a lot ae good, that is. Ye wur saying something aboot them taking a longer view ae something?”
“In wheedling themsels in wae the polis…us,” Lesley retorted, screwing her face while exaggerating her loud exasperation, reaching fur her fag packet.
“It wis only a bloody glass ae wine, fur Christ’s sake.”
“Naw, Collette, it wisnae, believe you me. Ah know these people,” Lesley hissed, lowering her voice and looking aboot at the other patrons who wur aw engrossed in conversations.
“Ah thought ye worked in intelligence, supplying the Special Department boys wae local street gossip? Dis that Ned story no come under criminal?”
“It’s Special Branch.”
“Whitever.”
“Ah work in Serious Crime and Intelligence, remember?” Lesley reminded her, emphasising the serious crime tag.
“Oh right. Ah furgoat,” Collette replied, smiling, using her teaspoon tae scrape up the chocolate residue fae the tap ae her cup and popping it in her mooth.
“Bit ye’re right, it’s maistly intelligence related, although we dae get asked tae look at some ae the stuff the big boys ur up tae in the toon, like, who’s ordering who tae be bumped aff or bringing in shipments.”
“Shipments?”
“Drugs.”
“So, whit aboot aw they mad wummin who’re jist aboot tae take o’er the world efter they shoot aw the men?”
“The Showgirls? Oh aye, that’s still ma main area ae work, so it is.”
“So, dae ye ever catch any ae them? Ah mean, whit herm ae they daeing, exposing basturts who’re gieing wummin, people like us, a hard time ae it, the pervy basturts.”
“Look, Ah’m no gonnae go intae it here, seeing as ye’re sitting there like the rest ae the stupid basturts, pontificating withoot hivving a bloody clue ae the seriousness ae whit’s gaun oan. Ah’m jist as much ae a feminist as any ae that lot ur, bit kin ye imagine being confronted by yer other hauf oan the basis ae some selfish hairy plastering slander aw o’er a big billboard oan the route ye take tae yer work or opposite the shoap or factory ye work in?”
“Even if it wis Teddy cheating oan ye behind yer back, ye’re saying ye widnae want tae know, irrespective ae where it came fae?”
“Collette, hen, ma Teddy loves me and Teddy Junior, that son ae his. Ye’ve obviously no been in a loving, trusting, relationship like mine, or ye widnae even go there, so ye widnae.”
“Ah’m jist saying. Obviously Teddy widnae be wan ae these guys, bit kin ye no see where Ah’m coming fae?”
“Naw, Ah cannae,” Lesley snapped at her. “Right, back tae yer new best pal. Did ye know that her and Johnboy Taylor go back, so they dae.”
“Back?”
“Ah mean, way back. Aw the way tae primary school days.”
“So?”
“So, no only hiv ye goat the Tally wan, bit noo ye’ve goat yer pal who no only shares a pad wae the main witness who’s trying tae take doon a poor polis inspector, wan ae us, bit she’s also in tow wae the cop shooter at the centre ae aw his grief.”
“So, is she wan ae the leaders ae the campaign tae get him set free then?”
“As Ah’ve awready said, we’re no sure. She isnae the face ae it, that’s fur sure. Ye’ll be aware that, oan the surface, it’s a lassie called Michele Hope, the daughter ae a serving polisman up in Springburn. Unbelievable, so it is. Senga Jackson could be at the back ae her though, pulling her strings. If she is, then yer pal’s playing a total blinder, so she is. She’d know fine well that if she’s caught leading fae the front, it could jeopardise and undermine their case, seeing as she’ll be wan ae the main witnesses. And talk aboot the cost ae aw this? Bloody thousands and thousands, so it is. The fraud boys ur beavering away, trying tae suss oot where it’s originating fae. Ah mean, every time we manage tae put something oot tae undermine their attempts at getting access tae Paddy’s notebook, the basturts come back wae a full page advert, demolishing Paddy’s case and oor argument fur continually denying them access tae the contents ae it.”
“So, where ur they getting the finance fae then?”
“It’s hard tae say, seeing as they’ve mair than a few wealthy supporters, although the sensible wans doon in Central believe that it’s coming fae The Mankys, Tony Gucci’s crowd. Trying tae prove that and making the connection his been difficult. The fact that they’ve disappeared aff the radar and appear tae be legit these days, isnae helping. That’s why Ah’m urging caution here, Collette. This Senga Jackson might be a wee caring nurse tae the likes ae you, bit that file ae hers is thickening by the day. When ye asked me if she wis connected, Ah went and hid a wee swatch, bit couldnae find anything other than her being involved in the deid nurse, Rose Bain’s Campaign Group, who’re beavering away, trying tae come up wae a conspiracy tae find oot who ran her o’er.”
“Is that no prejudicial tae the case
, Senga Jackson being in the mix somewhere?”
“Naw, nowan could blame her campaigning oan behauf ae a poor wee nurse that died as a result ae a hit-and-run driver who wis never apprehended. A jury wid probably view that as a principled, positive aspect, despite the fact that she’s living wae the key witness against Paddy. It wis only when Paddy mentioned her name when he wis roond at us hivving his tea, that Ah went and checked oot the file oan that Ned wan. Christ, Ah jist aboot pished masel, so Ah did.”
“And is there a conspiracy like?”
“Oan whit?”
“Oan who killed Rose Bain?”
“That auld flame ae yers, Bobby Mack, and another inspector, reviewed the case earlier in the year. Went through it like a dose ae salts, so they did.”
“And?”
“And nothing. The original investigation by the Bishopbriggs boys wis totally unimpeachable, so it wis. Classic hit-and-run.”
“So, who wis the other inspector?”
“Eh?”
“Who reviewed the case wae Bobby Mack?”
“Er, Ah think it wis Paddy. Why?”
“Oh, fur Christ’s sake, Lesley.”
“Whit?”
“Nae wonder they think there’s a bloody conspiracy gaun oan.”
“Paddy’s involvement his goat nothing tae dae wae that conspiracy theory ae theirs. And anyhow, they don’t know that it wis him that wis involved, so they don’t.”
“Did you jist say theory?”
“Aye, theory. They don’t know who the reviewing officers wur. That information his never been divulged.”
“Christ, Lesley, if only ye could hear the shite that ye’ve jist come oot wae.”
“Aw, fuck aff, Collette. If the opposite side wur playing fair, then there wid be nae reason tae haud back oan the poxy report. The fact that Paddy wis involved means they’d jist twist everything tae make political capital oot ae it. Everywan Ah’ve spoken tae says that it wis a thorough review, so they did,”
“Like who?”
“Whit dae ye mean, like who?”
“Who hiv ye spoken tae or who’s telt ye that? How dae ye know they kin be trusted and ur no part ae the conspiracy?”
“Fur your information, it wis Teddy,” she admitted. “Look, don’t gie me that look. There’s nae way ma Teddy wid lie tae me. Fur Christ’s sake, he’s ma man, Collette.”
”Oh, well,” Collette sighed, trying no tae sound too cynical, as she swished her haun in front ae her face tae clear away the cloud ae smoke emitting fae between the red lips sitting across fae her.
“Well, at least ye hiv the chance ae redeeming yersel in the eyes ae management, so ye dae,” he pal said pleasantly, cheering up. “See the things Ah’m daeing fur ye behind the scenes?”
“Lesley, whit ur ye mumping yer gums aboot noo?”
“You and the nurse.”
“Whit aboot her?”
“We’ve goat a golden opportunity here, so we hiv.”
“Lesley, could ye speak a wee bit ae Sprechen Sie Deutsch aboot here, fur Christ sake? It’s me ye’re talking tae.”
“Collette, don’t bloody act stupid wae me. Ah know ye, remember? Ye know fine well whit Ah’m oan aboot.”
“Naw, Ah don’t.”
“This is the first real opportunity that we’ve goat that we kin get somewan in there, so it is.”
“Eh?”
“You and that bosom buddy ae yers.”
“Look. Ye’ve no discussed or spoken tae anywan at yer work aboot this, hiv ye?”
“Naw, Ah wis waiting tae speak tae you first.”
“Good, because ye kin bloody furget it, so ye kin.”
“Why?”
“Because Ah bloody-well said so, that’s why.”
“Naw, Ah mean why no? Look at the opportunities here?”
“Lesley, the lassie helped me, fur Christ’s sake. She then followed up tae find oot if Ah wis coping, mair than Ah kin say fur some people Ah know.”
“Why wid ye no want tae help yer best pal oot, eh?”
“Furget it.”
“And poor Paddy McPhee. Whit aboot him? Surely we aw owe a debt tae him fur whit he’s hivving tae go through.”
“Lesley, Ah’m sorry, bit Ah’m no rewarding somewan’s concern fur me by bloody well spying oan her.”
“Who’s asking ye tae dae that? Aw Ah’m asking is fur ye tae be pals wae her, fur Christ’s sake.”
“Right, well, change the tune. Ah’ve nae intention ae getting back in touch wae Senga Jackson.”
“Ah think ye’re making a big mistake.”
“Aye, well, Ah’m sure that it won’t be the first or the last time Ah hear ye reminding me ae that.”
“Oh, well, if that’s yer attitude then, ye’ll jist hiv tae distance yersel fae her. If ye’re no prepared tae get in there and dae yer duty, whit’s expected ae ye, then ye’ll hiv tae cut aw ties because when the shit hits the fan, ye don’t want tae be caught up in it, so ye don’t,” Lesley warned her, lips pouting in a huff.
“Well, Ah’m no expecting tae see her anytime soon, ye’ll be glad tae hear. It wis jist a wee follow-up oan her part, asking how Ah wis daeing, nothing else.”
“Well, if that bitch tries tae contact ye, you make sure that ye sling her a deafy. She’s bad news that wan, so she is.”
“Right, point taken. Anything else while ye’ve goat me held captive here?”
“Aye. She didnae happen tae mention a Geraldine Baker, by any chance, did she?”
“Nope. Why? Who’s she?”
“She’s also a nurse up at The Royal, so she is. She goat sentenced tae seven days oot in Cornton Vale earlier in the year. Her and her two pals goat huckled fur demonstrating against some ae the lenient sentences being dished oot doon at The Central District Court against guys who wur up fur assaulting their girlfriends and wives. She wis charged wae assaulting wan ae us, a polisman as well. A right vicious man-hater this wan, so she is. How her and the other two she goat nicked wae, didnae lose their jobs, Ah’ll never know. They’ve obviously goat connections tae the senior union boys, so they hiv. That Corporation and Health Board ur bloody corrupt as fuck, so they ur. Anyway, ye wur asking if we ever managed tae get a haud ae any ae The Showgirls? Well, we goat two ae the basturts jist last week, so we did.”
“Aw, is that no brilliant, Lesley?” Collette said, genuinely pleased, reaching across and gieing the haun that wisnae gripping a fag between its fingers, a wee squeeze.
“Aye, they’re still denying it, of course, bit we know whit we’ve goat. Ah cannae wait tae clock their faces when we throw the book at the stupid cows.”
“So, how did ye manage tae nab them, then?”
“They wur wandering alang the whole ae Pollokshaws Road, squirting Evo-Stick glue in tae aw the butcher shoaps’ keyholes, so they wur,” Lesley replied, lighting up a fresh fag.
“Evo-Stick? So, whit’s the significance there?”
“Oh, it get’s better. No only that, bit they wur sticking wee labels oan tae the windaes or glass doors ae the shoaps, proclaiming eating meat wis murder, so they wur.”
“Ye whit?”
“That’s whit the wee labels claimed. Nothing else bit ‘Meat Is Murder’ in red bold writing that wis printed in such a way that the bottom ae each word appeared tae be dripping wae blood,” Lesley repeated, spelling the writing oot wae baith hauns held up between them, her smouldering fag ping-ponging up and doon fae between they lipstick-covered lips ae hers as she spoke.
“How the hell could meat be murder? How ur people supposed tae live?”
“Ah’m telling ye, Collette. This pair ur pure middle class, never hid a job in their life, rich psychos, so they ur. Baith vegetarians tae. Whitever ye dae in life, don’t ever trust a vegetarian. And the amount ae shite they wur spouting aboot animals hivving feelings? ”
“Ach, they sound bonkers, bit Ah’m sure aw vegetarians urnae like that.”
“Hiv ye met any like?”
“Who?”
“Vegetarians?”
“Er, naw, Ah don’t think so.”
“So, there ye go then. Listen tae me, Ah know whit Ah’m talking aboot. No a lot ae people know this, bit that wee squinty-eyed corporal, Adolf Fucking Hitler wis a veggie, so he wis.”
“He wis not!”
“Ah’m telling ye, Collette, ye don’t know the hauf ae it, so ye don’t, hen,” Lesley warned her, taking a deep puff ae her fag. “If the public even knew a fraction ae whit wis gaun oan, there wid be a bloody revolution, so there wid.”
“So, they admitted tae being members ae The Showgirls then?” Collette asked, gieing Collapsed Arse, who wis staunin there, elbows oan the coonter, wan eye oan the sports section ae The Glesga Echo, a wee nod fur refills.
“No exactly. There’s been a war against butchers’ shoaps the past few months. Dumbarton Road wis the worst hit, by the way. Must’ve taken them ages, squirting the glue intae aw the locks and sticking oan their wee “Meat Is Murder’ labels. Of course, when the poor owner turns up in the morning trying tae unlock his front door efter that stuff’s been allowed tae dry in the lock fur the past twelve hours, well, it’s a day’s lost business and the hassle ae hivving tae get new locks replaced oan the door.”
“Aye, bit The Showgirls? Where ur they in aw this?”
“Wan ae the lasses we nabbed hid a wee bit ae paper wae a name oan it, so she did. She wis spotted trying tae stuff it doon the back ae the seat in the squad car oan the way in tae Central, so she wis. That’s why Ah wis wondering if yer pal hid mentioned this Geraldine Baker wan. It wis her name. She’s the wan in charge ae the Rose Bain Campaign Group. The same group that yer new best pal’s involved in.”
“Ah still don’t see where The Showgirls come in tae the picture.”
“This veggie trollop, wae the bit ae paper wae the name oan it? It links her tae a lassie that’s been jailed fur protesting doon at The District Court against sentences against men.”
“So?”
“That same lassie is also the leading light in the group that’s trying tae find oot if there’s a conspiracy tae cover up the death ae Rose Bain.”
“Ah’m sorry, bit Ah still don’t se…”