by Ian Todd
“The stupid basturts hiv ruined the meat. The shit fae the intestines will hiv contaminated the meat by noo.”
The third raid he’d been involved in hid been oan Streaky John McGinnis’s big fancy detached hoose up oan the Kirkintilloch Road in Bishopbriggs. The boys in blue hidnae messed aboot either. They’d come prepared wae a six-feet long tree trunk wae ropes awready attached tae it tae use as a swinging battering ram oan that fancy white front door ae his. Despite the weight behind it, it hid still taken a good five minutes tae burst through it. By the time they’d aw rushed inside, Streaky John wis staunin laughing at them fae where he stood, in his fancy silk pyjamas, in front ae a roaring fire, surrounded by empty filing boxes.
“Too late,” he’d mocked them, as Inspector Dougan wordlessly took three long strides intae the room and floored the basturt wae a skelp tae that heid ae his wae his baton.
Wan ae the PCs hid quickly grabbed a big vase ae flowers fae across at the closed, shuttered windae, and tossed the contents ae it oan tae the flames in the hearth. Unfortunately, there wis nae water in the vase and the sound ae plastic flowers sizzling in the hearth and the stench ae burning plastic hid invaded the whole hoose. Upstairs, mair melodrama hid been played oot as wan ae the pavement pounders hammered oan the bathroom door.
“Open this fucking door or it’ll be broken doon,” he’d shouted as another loud flush ae the cistern could be heard.
“Right, staun aside, Bill,” wan ae the bizzies hid warned, as he took a flying lunge at it, before bouncing back aff ae it oan tae his arse oan the carpeted landing as the cistern flushed again.
“Bring up that battering ram,” wan ae them hid shouted, as two ae the bizzies sped past Elvis and the inspector, bounding up the stairs, two at a time, the big tree trunk swinging back and forth between them.
By the time Elvis and the inspector hid arrived oan the scene tae take charge, a wummin’s voice could be heard, shrieking fae behind the door.
The sound ae crashing, crunching, split woodwork hid reverberated throughoot the hoose as the battering ram did its devastating work.
“Right, ya fucking bitch, ye. Ye’re under arrest fur obstructing the polis in their line ae duty and deliberately attempting tae destroy class A drugs evidence so as tae avoid arrest, so ye ur,” The PC hid shouted at her, as she tried tae scratch the eyes oot ae that heid ae his.
Efter she’d been manhandled, screaming and kicking like a banshee doon the stairs, the inspector hid motioned Elvis intae the bathroom, which wis as big as his bedroom at hame. Roond the fancy, inlaid Shanks toilet bowl, wur scattered a dozen or so discarded, torn open, clear plastic bags, wae white powder scattered aw o’er the carpet and the rim ae the toilet bowl.
“Watch where ye’re staunin. We don’t want tae disturb any evidence,” The Inspector hid warned him, looking aboot.
“Whit is it?”
“Ah think it might be coke, so Ah dae.”
“Coke? Whit’s coke?”
“It’s a white powdery substance wae the consistency ae Saxa table salt that users sniff up their nostrils, tae get high, using a rolled up ten-pound note, so they dae. Costs a fortune jist fur a wee drap ae the stuff, so it dis,” The Inspector informed him knowledgably.
“And whit’s the significance ae the ten-pound note then?”
“It’s probably goat something tae dae wae the size. Ah don’t think it works wae a fiver.”
“Oh,” Elvis hid replied, fair impressed.
He looked across at the hot water geezer before looking at that watch ae his. It telt him that it wis ten tae wan. It wis the pitifully slow movement that attracted his attention oot ae the side ae that left eye ae his and also held the rest ae the café transfixed. Karen Karoline, slouched forward, her heid doon and haudin her injured haun up wae her other good wan, allowing the handle ae her cup tae swing aboot freely fae her pinkie underneath, hid jist arrived at the geezer. Quite dramatically and in full view ae everywan in the café, she made a big deal oot ae attempting tae fill up that cup ae hers wae boiling water. She’d nearly hid him there, he thought tae himsel, relaxing the muscles ae his thighs, which hid stiffened in anticipation ae hivving tae launch that arse ae his and dash across, between the scattered tables, tae gie her a haun. Miss Robertson, the front door complaints desk receptionist, hid beat him tae it, thankfully.
“Never help a cripple,” his induction officer fae Personnel hid warned him and his fellow new-starts oan that first day in the job. “People like them, like tae see if they kin manage themsels.”
“So, when wid ye know when tae step in then?” wan ae his fellow new-starts hid asked.
“It aw takes time, bit efter witnessing a few wee fails, Ah’m sure that ye’ll soon get tae know when tae jump in,” Russell Mulholland, a surgical-broon-boot-wearing member ae staff himsel, hid informed them that first day. “Timing and subtly is everything tae a cripple, so it is.”
He’d never been confronted wae a situation as described at his first-day induction until noo. He started tae feel a tad guilty aboot taking Miss Robertson’s obviously honest contemplation, in trying tae find the answer tae aw her woes in her empty cup, in vain noo. Maybe it wis time tae move oan. Find somewhere mair conducive tae his upbeat temperament and situation. Efter aw, he wis the last person anywan wid probably expect tae find in a place like The Tear Drap café. He’d heard The City Café up in Castle Street wis awfully good wae their flattened, cooked savoury rolls, bit somewan hid telt him recently that it wis supposed tae be shutting doon due tae the fly-over being extended, which wis a pity as it hid wan ae the best reputations as a café in the city. He looked at his watch again. He’d hiv tae go and check tae see if Collette James hid sent in the report that his new pal, Inspector Duggie Dougan, hid agreed she could help him oot wae. He’d furgoatten tae mention it tae her, so he hoped she wisnae annoyed at him fur daeing his legwork.
Chapter Fifty Three
Time wis marching oan, Senga telt hersel fur the umpteenth time, as she peered alang the road in the direction ae the fire station, shifting her weight fae wan fit tae the other, tae try and keep the circulation gaun. It wis starting tae get cauld in the mornings noo as well, she’d thought tae hersel earlier, as her and Lizzie heided in opposite directions tae start the early shifts up at Stobhill and The Royal. She wis starting tae feel hungry noo and tightened her grip oan her cape, feeling the envelope wae the bundle ae notes in it resting comfortably against her left breast. She hoped Lizzie wid hiv the tea oan. She’d bought some mince fae Mohammed’s, the butcher doon oan Great Western Road, before she’d started her shift a few days earlier. She looked up at the dark, cloudy sky. Although it wis still only September, it wis that bitter cauld feeling that built itsel up fur days before it finally snowed. She thought aboot Johnboy and wondered whit he wis up tae. He’d telt her that they heided fur their tea at hauf past four. It wis quarter tae eight noo. She wondered if there wid be a letter fae Dumfries sitting waiting fur her at hame. It wis strange. It wis like a drug. If there wisnae a letter sitting waiting fur her when she came in fae her work, she started suffering withdrawal symptoms. He wis allowed wan official letter a week, bit he could purchase wans fae the jail tuck shoap if he paid fur the stamps oot ae his forty pence a week wages. She usually received three a week, oan average. She knew when he wis doon, as his correspondence wid drap doon tae wan, or even none, fur a week or longer. Oan the other haun, a drap in correspondence could mean he wis in solitary confinement, or the digger as he called it. It wis during those periods she’d start tae get anxious. Wan ae the prison warders hid looked the other way, efter getting a back-hander fae ootside sources, when Johnboy and Silent Smith hid been serving time in borstal back in 71. Silent hid suffered a punctured lung efter being stabbed. Johnboy hid tried tae dismiss they fears ae hers, always quick tae reassure her that nothing wis gonnae happen tae him.
“Look, Ah might no be able tae fight sleep, bit nowan is gonnae take a liberty wae somewan like me. No wae the backup Ah hiv ootside in
the form ae The Mankys. People in here know fine well that if anything should happen tae me, the repercussions ootside wid be swift and lethal,” he’d reminded her.
It still didnae make her relax. She felt that she wis caught between a stane and a hard place. Aye, she wanted him well away fae the influence ae The Mankys, bit she still selfishly accepted the insurance they afforded against anywan hurting him. That also applied tae accepting the funds that wur noo resting under that hospital cape ae hers. She took hame aboot twenty-three pounds a week in her pay packet. She knew the envelope contained two hunner pounds in cash…nearly two months working twelve-hour shifts fur her. It wis an expensive business, campaigning tae get an innocent man, a boy, free fae jail fur something that he hidnae done. That two hunner pounds wisnae a wan-aff either. That envelope wis handed o’er tae Senga via Sharon Campbell every single month. Aw Senga hid tae dae wis drap by Sharon’s and it wid be sitting there waiting oan her. Sometimes the lassies agreed tae dip intae it tae assist wae the Justice Fur Rose Bain Campaign Fund when no enough money wis coming in fae the fundraising events. She never spoke tae Tony Gucci or any ae the other Mankys aboot the money, where it hid originated fae, whose blood hid been spilt oan the notes. She’d often wondered whit crimes her and the other lassies hid been accomplices tae, by accepting the money.
“Look, don’t worry. It’s jist unpaid taxes fae Simon and the other’s businesses that the rest ae them hivnae declared. They know fine well no tae cover your hauns in other people’s blood. Of course, none ae the lassies wur stupid enough tae believe something like that, bit it gied them an oot, an excuse, tae take it and use it fur whit it wis intended. God, she hated Glesga and she hated hersel fur being involved wae The Mankys. Johnboy hid declared that as far as he wis concerned, he wis finished wae a life ae crime. She hidnae believed him in the past when he’d sworn oan his mother’s grave that he wis innocent ae shooting Big Liam Thompson, the polis sergeant who’d made The Mankys’ lives hell back in the Toonheid, when they wur aw wee ragged arsed toe-rags, in that bank robbery up in Maryhill back in 1972. She wisnae gonnae make that mistake again. If he swore that he wis gaun straight, then who wis she tae disbelieve or doubt him? The only problem wis, could he survive Dumfries YOI until he wis free? It hid been in the papers a while ago that some boy hid lost an eye while another hid been rushed tae Dumfries Infirmary suffering fae stab wounds.
She wis noo starting tae regret knocking back Sharon Campbell fur the offer ae staying fur her tea, telling her that she’d jist wait until she goat hame tae hiv hers wae Lizzie, who’d be expecting her tae make an appearance. Sharon wis also making a pot ae mince and totties, although hers hid hame-made skirlie white pudding tae accompany her carrots and turnip. Sharon kept asking her if her or Lizzie hid hid a go at making the stuff, bit they only ever remembered aboot it when they wur aboot tae pop their pot ae mince oan tap ae the cooker. She looked alang Keppochhill Road again tae see if the 32 hid appeared yet. It wis then that she clocked the sky blue and white stripes ae a squad car heidin in her direction, efter it hid turned oan tae Keppochhill Road fae Springburn Road in the distance. She wis staunin opposite Sharon’s closemooth at the cemetery gates. As expected, and tae her relief, the squad car speeded up as it straightened oot ae the turn. It took that brain ae hers a second or two tae comprehend that no only wis it slowing doon as it approached her, bit it hid pulled o’er and stoapped at her bus stoap. The broon envelope she’d jist picked up fae Sharon’s noo felt like a heavy brick underneath that cape ae hers. Despite the cauld, she felt the palms ae her hauns turn sweaty as she inadvertently jumped at the sound ae the click ae the passenger door being pushed open by an ootstretched erm.
“Senga, how’re ur ye daeing, hen?” WPC Collette James asked, her face suddenly appearing in the doorway as she leaned across the passenger seat, looking up at her.
“Er, aye, okay. Yersel?”
“Ach, ye know whit like?”
Silence.
“Look, jump in. Ah’ll gie ye a lift. Where ur ye aff tae?”
“Ach, it’s okay. That bus ae mine will be here any minute noo,” she replied, as the face disappeared, before the driver’s door opened and the uniformed WPC stood up, looking across at her, resting they uniformed erms oan the roof.
“Fur Christ’s sake, Senga. Ye hivnae committed a crime, hiv ye?” Collette asked, smiling, as Senga suspiciously wondered whit the poliswummin wis up tae.
Oh ma God. How dae Ah explain the contents ae a broon envelope full ae ill-gotten dosh, her brain screamed oot tae the curious couple and their two weans, who wur being followed by two dugs, across the road fae where she wis staunin.
“A crime? Me?”
“Aye, you. Ye’re looking awfully guilty, so ye ur. The last time Ah clocked an expression like that, somewan hid been murdered, so they hid.”
“Aye, well, Ah’d put ma hauns up and confess, bit it’s too cauld,” she replied, exaggerating her best fake shiver.
“So, whit ur ye daeing up here then? Ye wurnae up visiting Sharon Campbell, by any chance, wur ye?”
“Er, whit makes ye ask that?” she asked, her voice quivering, no sure if she could feel that envelope ae money slipping doon through a hole in the pocket that she didnae know wis there.
“Oh, nothing.”
“Ah wis up seeing that ma ae mine. She lives a couple ae closes further alang fae Sharon’s, so she dis,” Senga replied, nodding that chin ae hers in the direction that the cop car hid jist come fae.
“Look, jump in. Ah’ll gie ye a lift doon the road. Ah wis hoping tae catch up wae ye. Ah need tae discuss something important wae ye.”
“Discuss something important?” Senga asked suspiciously.
“Senga, ur ye sure ye hivnae committed a crime or something?”
“Look, it’s Springburn. Ah’m no used tae being accosted by a bizzy…Ah mean, a poliswummin, especially wan in a uniform.”
“Unlike the wan you’re wearing, ye mean?”
“This uniform disnae threaten people’s liberty, so it disnae.”
“Aye, that’s true.”
Silence.
“Okay, Ah kin see why ye’d be uncomfortable being seen talking tae somewan like me. Why don’t we heid aff somewhere a lot less public?”
“Ye’re gonnae get me shot, so ye ur, Collette,” Senga sighed, looking fae left tae right, before stepping forward and getting intae the passenger seat, as Collette smiled and disappeared in tae the car at the driver’s side.
Chapter Fifty Four
“Fox Skulk Three, Are you receiving me? Over.” The radio crackled, as the watcher turned doon the volume slightly.
“Loud and clear, Fox Skulk One. What’s the current play? Over.”
“They’re all here. Black Pat, Streaky John, Willie Commotion and Moc...”
“Repeat that last eyeball, Fox Skulk One? Over.”
Silence.
“Fox Skulk One. Is that a copy? Over.”
“Sorry Fox Skulk Three. That last ID was Mockit Michael. Repeat, Mockit Michael. Over.”
“That’s a copy. Fox Skulk One. Over.
Silence.
“Four Fingers Ralston chust appeared out of the shadows. Over.”
“Is he still mobile, Fox Skulk One? Over.”
Silence.
“That’s a negatory, Fox Skulk Three. He’s disappeared inside. Over,” the radio crackled.
“Ur ye sure nowan clocked ye, Michael?” Black Pat McVeigh asked Mockit Michael, as the newcomer strode across the room tae the sideboard and poured himsel a large Bells, while lifting his left leg up a few inches fae the flair and letting rip wae that arse ae his.
“How come ye bypass the good malt fur that nasty firewater stuff?” Willie Commotion wanted tae know, waving his haun back and forth in front ae that face ae his as the ice in his glass clinked aff ae the sides ae it.
Mockit silently turned and padded back across the carpet and plapped that smelly arse ae his doon oan tae wan ae the broon, ripped vinyl chairs.
“Nah, nowan followed me, bit if they hid, they’d still be wandering aboot, dizzy as fuck wae the amount ae twists and turns Ah took,” he bragged, taking a wee sip.
“Aw clear,” Four Fingers announced, nodding at Black Pat, as he entered the room and farted loudly before grabbing a pew at the door.
“Ah’m telling ye, it’ll take mair than that fucking Gruesome Twosome pair ae pricks tae track that smelly arse ae mine, so it will,” Mockit Michael continued tae boast, taking a slug this time. “How’s that poor wife ae yers, John?”
“Melinda? Traumatised tae fuck, so she is. The doctor’s never been away fae the hoose since that basturt Dougan and that heavy mob ae his broke doon that good front door ae mine. Every basturt sitting oan the tap deck ae the buses heiding intae the toon tae work that morning hid a grand slam view ae whit wis gaun oan in ma front living room, so they hid. The basturts deliberately opened ma shutters tae allow nosey scum tae see whit the score wis,” Streaky John McGinnis snarled at the world, stoapping momentarily tae take in a big gulp ae fetid air, before continuing wae his rant. “And then being huckled doon tae the dungeons in Central and gied eight days remand tae spend pulling that plonker ae mine oan tap ae an auld spunk-stained horsehair mattress in a cell in that fucking stinking C hall, up there in the Bar-L? Some basturt’s gonnae die fur this, so they ur. Youse mark ma words,” he growled, tenderly touching the crusty scabs wae his fingertips that wur clinging oan tae the ten stitches that should’ve been removed a week earlier, sticking oot ae the front ae that hairline oan his foreheid.