Dumfries (38 page)

  “
Good evening.  My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  Social Work supremo, Johnston Craig, has asked tenants to regularly look in on elderly neighbours after the body of eighty-three-year-old Nancy McMillan was found dead in her flat in Allan Street, Dalmarnock, earlier today.  It is thought Mrs McMillan, a widow, died of malnutrition, the second such death amongst the elderly living alone in the area in the past six weeks…

  A farming community in Alexandra has been left in mourning after the charred remains of an elderly farmer and his two dogs were found amongst the ruined timbers of his burnt-out farmhouse last night.  The body of Mr Jack McPherson, a well-known poultry farmer in the area, who lost his wife of fifty years last December when she died of cancer, was found amongst the ruins.  A Dunbartonshire Fire Brigade spokesman said that the fire was particularly difficult to extinguish because of location difficulties in reaching the remote farmhouse and lack of access to a running water outlet.  It is thought that Mr McPherson, a heavy smoker, may have dropped a lighted cigarette before falling asleep in his bed.  It’s believed a similar fire took place at the property back in 1969.  Neighbours also spoke of noticing that Mr McPherson’s memory had deteriorated since the death of his wife.  A report on the incident will be submitted to the prosecutor fiscal in Dumbarton in due course, although Fire Brigade officials don’t believe that foul play was involved…

A twenty-three-year-old baker has been sentenced to four years in prison after The Crown accepted his plea of diminished responsibility for the manslaughter of his girlfriend who had threatened to leave him…” 

Chapter Thirty Six

  “Right, knob-heid, ye’ve hid plenty ae time tae think aboot it.  Who dae ye think put that wee humphy-backed God-man up tae it then?” Tony asked Johnboy in the sewing machine shoap oan the Monday.

  “Ah don’t know.  Ah’m no sure.”

  “Bit, ye agree somewan’s behind it?”

  “Probably.”

  “So, who then?”

  “Probably the same person that suggested Silent fur the barber’s job.  How the fuck should Ah know?  Christ, wid ye let him loose oan yer napper efter whit he done tae they beasts?” Johnboy asked, laughing and nodding tae his co-accused, sitting at the sewing machine in front ae them.

  “Don’t change the subject, Johnboy.  Ye must’ve come up wae a name,” Tony persisted.

  “Ah went alang tae mass oan Sunday tae suss oot whit the score wis.  It looked a piece ae pish, so it did.”

  “So, ye’re daeing it then?”

  “Am Ah fuck.”

  “So, how ur ye gonnae find oot who’s meddling behind the scenes, if ye’re jist gonnae walk away, eh?”

  “Ah’m sure it’ll aw come oot in the wash, Mr Paranoia Per Se.”

  “Aye, bit that could be this time next year when Ah’m no gonnae be here.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “Fur Christ’s sake, Johnboy, whit ur ye like?  Aw ye need tae dae is turn up tae the chapel fur the next few Sundays and strum a few chords and that’s it.  Whit’s so difficult aboot that?”

  “Tony, Ah cannae believe whit ye’ve jist come oot wae.  You dae it, if ye’re so bothered.”

  “He didnae ask me, and anyhow, Ah cannae play the guitar.”

  “Naw, bit ye kin bloody blow a lot ae hot air, so ye kin.”

  “Aw, stoap yer bloody whinging.  It’s no as if Ah’m asking fur much, am Ah?  Some basturt’s dabbling behind the scenes withoot involving or asking us first and Ah want tae know who the fuck they ur and whit they’re up tae.”

  “Tony, ye’re asking me tae become a bloody altar boy and Ah’m no even a bloody Catholic, fur fuck’s sake.”

  “Ach, away ye go and stoap making something oot ae nothing.  Ah’m telling ye, ye’ll need tae call that wee humph-backed priest’s bluff tae see whit it is he’s up tae or ye won’t be able tae shake him aff.  Ah know these people.  They’re like bloody limpets wance they stick tae that back ae yers, so they ur.”

  “Tony, that ma ae mine wid be turning in her grave at the very thought, so she wid.  Ah still feel guilty talking tae him, even if he dis hiv a hunchback.”

  “Aye, yer ma wid’ve hid something tae say aboot this turn ae events,” Tony agreed, smiling, as he put another completed bandolier oan tap ae the bundle at his feet.

  “Exactly, so let’s leave it at that.  We’ve goat enough oan oor plate…that is, if ye want oot ae here at the first shout withoot losing aw ae yer remission,” Johnboy reminded him, knowing that wid grab his attention. 

  “This better be good.”

  “It’s better than the shite you came up wae the other day there.”

  “Get oan wae it and spare us the amateur dramatics.  Ah’ll be the judge ae whit’s good and whit isnae,” Tony grunted, lifting up the makings ae a new bandolier.

  Snappy’s antics hid started tae cause concern in the ranks and Tony wis looking fur a solution that didnae take up aw their free time, talking aboot it.  The first signs ae bother hid come when Snappy hid said he wanted Stu Mackay tae join The Mankys at the table in the dining hall.  They aw liked Stu, bit there wis nae chance ae that happening in a month ae Sundays, especially efter the news reached them that Simon Epstein hid recently goat wan ae his carpet fitter boys tae take a pot-shot at Honest John McCaffrey, when he wis locking up his shoap wan night.  The cards wur well and truly stacked up against Stu joining them.

  “Why no?” Snappy hid demanded, efter getting a knockback fae Tony, coming up the stairs fae the dining hall.

  “Because it’s complicated, that’s why.”

  “Ah want everywan tae hiv a say oan this,” Snappy hid griped, as if he wis living in some sort ae democracy.

  “Fine,” Tony hid replied. “Let me know whit people say.”

  “Aye, and Ah want the discussion oot in the open, as well,” Snappy hid challenged him.

  “Fine.”

  “And nae touting fur votes behind ma back either,” Snappy hid continued, starting tae get oan Tony’s tits.

  “Fine, Snappy, bit Ah’ve goat a condition ae ma ain.  When ye lose the vote, Ah don’t want tae hear another word oan it.  If Ah dae, Ah swear tae God Ah’m gonnae rip that fucking face aff ae yer new pal.  Noo, if ye don’t believe me, jist fucking test me oot oan it,” Tony hid snarled at him.

  “See, that’s ye starting awready, trying tae influence the decision, ya dirty basturt, ye,” Snappy hid whined.

  “Ah’m fucking telling ye, Snappy…if ye bring this up again efter we discuss it, yer pal is gonnae suffer the consequences, so he is.”

Pat, as anticipated, started the baw rolling by refusing tae get involved in Snappy’s touting fur support.  He’d telt Snappy that he wis hivving nothing tae dae wae any debate or taking part in any vote.

  “Snappy, let me get this straight. Ye’re saying that ye want Stu, who is a good guy, by the way, bit still wan ae Honest John’s boys, tae be sitting at the table wae us, lugging in tae aw oor business?  Is that right?” Pat hid asked him, efter Snappy hid changed his tactics and brought the subject up at the table.

  “We won’t be talking business in front ae him,” Snappy hid sniped at Pat, gaun straight in tae defensive mode, right fae the start.

  “Too fucking true, because he’s no sitting wae us and that’s that,” Pat hid retorted.

  “Nae fucking wonder they’ve goat ye doon as some sort ae sexual deviant sociopath or whitever it is that ye ur, ya selfish basturt, ye.”

  “And another thing, as well as working fur Honest John, he’s Blaster Mackay’s nephew,” Pat hid reminded him.

  “So?  We wurnae involved in anything tae dae wae Blaster Mackay, wur we?”  Snappy asked, looking across at Johnboy fur support.

  “Snappy, don’t involve me.  If ye cannae convince Tony and Pat, then ye’ll no convince me either.”

  “Ah knew none ae youse pricks liked Stu.”

  “Aw, fuck aff, Snappy, it’s nothing tae dae wae that.  And Ah widnae make a big deal oot ae it either,” Johnboy hid warned him.

  “Aye or ye’ll be joining yer new pal wae the rest ae the Maryhill crowd he’s sitting wae,” Tony hid threatened, looking across at Stu sitting wae some ae The Maryhill Fleet boys.

  “Silent, whit hiv ye tae say aboot it, eh?  Whit’s yer take oan it?” Snappy hid demanded.

  Silence.

  “Look, ye’re trying ma patience, so ye ur.  Ye must at least hiv an opinion that’s different fae these three clowns.  Speak up, or gie me a blink tae let oan ye know whit the fuck Ah’m asking ye, man!”

  Silence.

  “Ah don’t care whit youse pricks think.  Ah think ye’ve aw goat it in fur Stu, so youse hiv.”

  “Aye, that’s right, Snappy, so change the tune or go and sit wae him and gie us aw fucking peace,” Pat hid growled, closing the conversation fur good.

  The next problem came up soon efter that when Snappy announced that he’d hid enough ae sitting like a vegetable, day in and day oot, in the sewing machine shoap.  Him and Stu wur gonnae wreck the place and hiv a go at Robert the Beast and his pals during the confusion that wid ensue wance it aw kicked aff.

  “Naw, ye’re fucking no,” Tony hid telt him roond the snooker table wan night at rec.

  “Why?”

  “Because Ah bloody well said so…that’s why.”

  “That isnae a reason.  Tell me whit the fuck’s wrang wae that, eh?”

  “Snappy, Ah’ve telt ye before, we hiv tae keep oor noses clean in here, that’s why.”

  “Whit?  Jist because ye promised that demented prick ae a governor that we’d behave oorsels?  That’s no a good enough reason…at least no fae where Ah’m staunin, it isnae.”

  “Johnboy, tell him,” Tony hid said, stretching doon tae sink the blue baw intae the corner pocket.

  “Youse need tae get oot ae here as soon as possible.  There’s a lot happening ootside.  Pat needs tae get oot tae take up his partnership in Papa Fraser’s jewellery shoap before the auld basturt croaks it.  Simon’s still plotting tae make a come-back against Honest John, despite getting mair dosh than whit he lost, efter we tanned his tills.”

  “Honest John wid’ve expect mair come-back.  Christ, he wid’ve known fine well that it wis us that tanned his shoap, seeing as Simon wisnae still trying tae get his money back,” Snappy hid argued.

  “Look, Ah need tae get oot ae here as soon as, tae finish aff some business, particularly wae that sniggering prick, Wee Pie.  Ah’ll gie the wee basturt something tae snigger at by the time Ah’m finished wae him.  The longer Ah’m in here, the harder it is fur us tae pick up where we left aff…black,” Tony announced tae aw the faces watching, nodding at the baw, as he peered doon his cue.

  “Apart fae Simon fucking aboot, everywan’s taking care ae everything.  Look at the whisky and fags?  Ben did a great wee job there, so he did.”

  “Snappy, the problem wae you is ye hiv a short attention span, so ye dae.  Why kin ye no be like the rest ae us and get oan wae things, withoot wanting tae fuck it up fur everywan else, eh?” Tony hid said softly tae him, haunin the cue tae Silent.

  “Aye and Ah widnae let oan tae Pat that ye’re wanting tae wreck the place and fuck up his chances ae getting oot tae start up in the jewellery business.  Ah kin see that gaun doon a storm,” Johnboy hid warned him, as Tony grinned maliciously across at Snappy, who clearly wisnae happy wae the way the conversation wis gaun, seeing as he wis oan the end ae it.

  “Well, youse better come up wae something quick, because Ah’m no sitting there like a fucking moron, watching youse lick the arses ae the screws across there in that sweatshoap.”

  “Look, wae a wee bit ae a positive attitude, ye could end up getting a good number like Silent.  Wan day he wis the bandolier king and the next, he’s the heid barber.  Christ, wae a wee bit ae an effort, ye might manage a move up tae the cutting table beside the beastie boys,” Tony hid laughed, accepting the cue aff ae Silent, efter he’d missed a sitter.

  “Right, don’t butt in until Ah’m completely finished,” Johnboy warned them, slinging doon a completed bandolier, oan tae the pile beside his machine.

  “Finished whit?” Snappy asked, turning roond.

  “Ma master plan.”

  “Who else hiv ye telt then?”

  “Nowan.  Ah’m jist aboot tae tell youse.”

  “Did youse two know aboot the plan that Scotland’s answer tae The Bird Man ae Alcatraz his come up wae?” Snappy asked them, drawing Silent and Stu’s attention tae the fact that something wis happening, as everywan laughed.

  “Snappy, that isnae funny. Dae ye want tae hear it or no?” Johnboy challenged him, getting exasperated at aw the farting aboot that wis gaun oan roond aboot him.

  “Oh, shut yer arse and get oan wae it, fur fuck’s sake, Johnboy.  Ah hate hivving tae put up wae this shite fae him,” Snappy cursed, scowling across at Tony as if it wis his fault.  “And don’t start gaun aw roond the hooses in the block, like ye normally dae.  Keep it short…we’ve no goat aw day,” Snappy continued, as Tony, Silent and Stu looked at each other and grinned.

  “Ur ye wanting tae hear this or no?”

  “Hurry up!” Snappy barked.

  “Right, remember, nae butting in until Ah’ve finished.  Hiv youse aw goat that?”

  “Naw, we bloody well hivnae.  Christ, Johnboy, ye cannae expect us tae sit here like fucking dummies, wae oor mooths shut, if ye’re sitting there taking three hours tae spout a heap ae shite, like ye normally dae, withoot getting tae the point.  If it’s good, we’ll nod like they dugs ye get oan the back parcel shelf ae some auld codger’s car.  If it’s no, Ah’ll sling a few wee ideas ae ma ain in, so Ah will.  That goes fur you as well, Silent, by the way,” Snappy said encouragingly, clearly starting tae build up his support base early, should he be allowed tae put forward a plan ae his ain. “Right, oan ye go.  We’re aw ears.”

  “Right, ye see that clip ae dummy bullets that Stafford uses tae measure the size ae the pouch pockets oan the bandoliers?” Johnboy asked them, nodding across tae the quality control table.  “Well, Ah reckon if we managed tae blag that thing, the shite wid hit the fan big time in here, so it wid.”  

  Everywan turned and looked across at the table, where a wee queue ae YOs waiting fur Stafford tae process their completed bandoliers hid built up. 

“Well, whit dae youse think then?” Johnboy asked, grateful tae see smiles appearing oan a few ae the coupons in front ae him.

  “Ah’m assuming ye’ve goat an idea ae how we’re gonnae get oor hauns oan it?” Snappy asked, looking fae Stafford tae the escort screws up at The Beastie Boys’ table.

  “Ah’ve been watching him fur a few days noo.  It’ll be difficult, bit no impossible.  Oor timing wid hiv tae be spot-oan though.”

  Silence.

  “Carry oan, Johnboy,” Tony said encouragingly.

  “Right, this is the bit Ah wisnae wanting ye tae butt in oan because Ah’m still trying tae figure oot whit it is Ah’m trying tae say and how it’s gonnae work,” Johnboy warned them, looking at Snappy, who wis sitting there grinning at him.