Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (36 page)

  “Well, that young wan who wis advising JP didnae need much haudin back.  She wis such a cow, so she wis, and her a wummin as well.” 

  “Aye, bit where will she be in five years’ time?  She’ll probably end up becoming a probation officer or prison governor because she took the easy path in her career as a solicitor.  Efter a while, maist ae they young prosecutors jist end up processing the flotsam ae society.  There’s nae challenge because they’ve awready goat it aw sewn up.  Oan the other haun, the District Courts ur where aw the major solicitor firms put their young lawyers tae sort oot the men fae the boys. If a young wan is still staunin efter two years and they’re any good, then there’s a fair chance that they kin go oan tae hiv a successful career further doon the line in the Sheriff Court or higher. The District Court is where they hone their skills.  Ye’ve seen how the likes ae JP Donnelly operates.  Imagine a young solicitor gaun up against him fur the first time?”

  “So, why the hell dae we still hiv leeches like Howdy and Barker operating successfully then?”

  “They’re at the other end ae the scale.  They’ve found their niche and ur milking it fur aw it’s worth.

  “So ye’re no a believer in justice then?”

  “Ah never said that.  The system is rotten because that’s the legal charter that we aw live under.  Aw men and wummin ur entitled tae a just and fair trial before their peers.  Anywan who knows anything, knows fine well that the current court system is a festering, expensive boil oan the arse ae so-called freedom and democracy and ur happy tae allow it tae drift aimlessly.  Kin ye imagine the reaction if it wis reformed or even done away wae?”

  “Aye, Ah suppose the people widnae wear it.”

  “The people?  Who cares whit the people think?  It’s the legal fraternity who’d be up in erms.  Think ae aw that lost revenue and income.  Naw, any law tae change it intae something good or otherwise wid be tied up in legal speak furever in the courts.  It widnae be worth the hassle tae even go there.  The invisible wans that run the show allow the status quo tae remain because the crumbs that land in the trough feed people like Howdy and Barker, and it’s cheap at hauf the price.  Everywan’s a winner…apart fae the wans that it wis set up tae help in the first place, that is.  The last time Ah spoke tae ma son, he said that he wanted tae follow in ma footsteps by gaun intae the legal profession when he grew up.  Ah soon put him straight oan that wan, so Ah did.”

  Silence.

  “Ye’re a good man, Harry,” Helen hid finally said.  “Maist lawyers wid’ve jumped at the chance tae make a few bob aff ae the likes ae me and the situation Ah’m in.”

  “Oh, Ah don’t know aboot that.  There ur a few decent wans gaun aboot who care aboot principles, people and justice.”

  “Whit Ah’m a gonnae dae?”

  “Ah’m no too sure.  Between JP and the procurator fiscal, ye’ve a job oan yer hauns.  Ah honestly don’t think Ah could help ye oot fur the reasons Ah’ve jist gied ye.  Ah kin play dirty like the rest ae them, bit Ah jist don’t hiv anything tae work wae that wid help ye oot.  Ah think ye need tae go in there and plead yer case.  Stick tae whit ye said tae me.  Don’t embellish it and keep calm.  Sometimes the truth gets through in the end, despite the odds.  Ah’m sorry, Helen, Ah really am.”

  The cell door swung open.

  “Recreation!” Twitchy Face barked, disappearing alang tae open the next cell.

  Helen walked alang the landing, followed by Gina, who still hidnae asked her anything.  When Helen plapped her arse doon beside the lassies, who wur aw awready sitting in the middle ae the walking circle, there wis an air ae expectation.  Fuck it, Helen thought tae hersel.  They’re isnae any use hiding it, and she started tae tell them everything that hid been said between her and Coco The Clown, including Martha Hairy Chop Face and her sniggering.

  “Tell us how he wis dressed again and whit yer initial reaction wis, Helen?” Big Pat asked, as aw the lassies, including Helen, fell aboot the grass, roaring and laughing in anticipation ae Helen’s re-run.

Chapter Forty Seven

Thursday

  “Whit will ye hiv, Pat?” Colin asked The Big Man, who’d jist sat doon at the table, at the far end ae The Pot Still in Hope street.

  “Seeing as it’s yersel that’s paying, Colin, Ah’ll hiv a pint ae heavy and a wee cheeky malt, thank ye very much.”

  “Here ye go.  Cheers!” The Inspector said, when he returned fae the bar, taking a sip oot ae his pint ae lager and lime as he sat doon.

  “Ah don’t know whit ye see in that pish.”

  “Ah prefer the taste, especially wae the lime in it.  Heavy and lime don’t mix.”

  “Aye, Ah suppose.”

  “So, then, Pat?  How did it ever come tae this, eh?”

  “Ask that big lump ae shite, Liam Thompson.  He’ll tell ye.  Wan minute Ah’m gaun aboot ma lawful business and the next, that big fucking Irish nose ae his is being poked in where it isnae supposed tae be.”

  “Aye, Ah know, Ah Know.  Ah thought JP hid come and spoken tae ye and goat it aw sorted oot.  Whit went wrang?”

  “As Ah’ve jist said, Thompson and that other wan, whit’s his name, the big glaikit looking shitehoose…Stewart?”

  “Big Jim?  Ach, he’s hermless, so he is.  He’s a good sergeant…well-meaning, nae trouble, knows the score.”

  “Ah noticed ye didnae defend that prick, Liam Thompson.  There’s been nothing bit fucking trouble since he turned up again in the Toonheid.  They stripes ae his hiv gone tae his heid.”

  “Ah think he means well, although he kin be a stroppy fucker at times.”

  “Colin, Ah thought we hid an arrangement?  JP his never hid cause tae complain…at least, no as far as Ah’m aware.  Ah’ve always passed oan that envelope, bang oan time, every month withoot fail, including Christmas bonuses.”

  “This carry-oan aboot the Kelly boy.  Noo, you and Ah know that Liam and Big Jim, or any ae the other two, Jinty and Crisscross, hid nothing tae dae wae that dookit gaun up in smoke, so how dae we resolve this amicably, withoot us falling oot further, eh?”

  “Ah don’t gie a monkey’s shite aboot the cabin, bit there wis terrible suffering involved that cannae jist be forgotten aboot because we’re sitting hivving a pint, Colin.”

  “Ah know, it wis terrible aboot the boy.”

  “The boy?  Ah’m no oan aboot the boy.  Ah’m oan aboot ma good fucking doos that wur irreplaceable.  Ah’ll never get them back.  They’re gone furever.  Broke ma heart that.”

  “Pat, Pat, Liam Thompson and Big Jim swear that they never hid anything tae dae wae that.”

  “Did they noo?”

  “Aye, Ah know that Big Jim and Jinty wur ootside the pub aw night skiving, bit they wur only listening tae the group ye hid playing, who wur stoating by all accounts, by the way.”

  “Aye, they wur good.  Nothing bit the best fur that wee maw and da ae mine.”

  “Liam and Crisscross wur parked up in Ronald Street, scoffing their fish suppers.  It wis jist a coincidence that they happened tae be there.”

  “Colin, they wur seen up the closemooth.”

  “Aye, because wan ae yer doo thieves drapped a big jemmy aff the roof and it went straight through the squad car windscreen.  It wis a bloody miracle they wurnae killed.  Efter that happened, they went up the stairs tae investigate.  Fur Christ’s sake, that’s whit the polis ur supposed tae dae.”

  “And the doos that wur haunded o’er tae that bampot, Flypast?”

  “Crisscross wrecked Flypast’s dookit and killed a few ae his doos earlier in the summer.  They’d spotted a couple ae wee boys heiding doon the High Street wae some doos up their jumpers, so Crisscross confiscated them and gied them tae Flypast tae make amends.”

  “That wis very charitable ae them.  Whit wis the boys’ names?”

  Silence.

  “Right, whit ur ye hivving, Colin?  It’s ma shout,” The Big Man said, staunin up and heiding fur the bar.

  “The same again, bit tell him no tae put so much lime in it this time.”

  “So, if it wisnae youse, who wis it then?” The Big Man asked, sitting doon and looking aboot the bar fur any known faces.

  “Come oan, Pat.  It’s obvious that it wis that wee manky mob that done it.  That wee Tally wan, the leader, he’s well-known fur tanning lofts and dookits…everywan knows that.”

  “Ah goat him tae dae a couple fur me.  It wis him that tanned Mad Malky’s across in Possil.  Nearly cost him a haun efter Malky’s dug aboot chomped his wrist in hauf. We investigated them, Colin.  It wisnae them, believe you me.  If it wis, we widnae be sitting here exchanging pleasantries oan a lovely sunny Thursday morning, noo, wid we?”

  “Well, it wisnae us.”

  “Aye, well, there ye go,” The Big Man said, knocking back his nip and taking a sip ae his beer.

  “So, how dae we resolve this then?”

  “Ah’m oot ae pocket…well oot ae pocket.”

  “How much?”

  “Three grand.”

  The Inspector let fly wae a spray ae Tennents lager and lime across the table.

  “Ah telt ye that wis pish.”

  “Pat, fur Christ’s sake.  Whit the hell wur ye feeding they bloody pigeons?  Eighteen carat gold nuggets?”

  “The three big Horsemen Thief Pouters wur pure lineage breeds, dating back three hunner years.  They wur worth five hunner a heid, any day ae the week. And then there’s the loss ae earnings and me gaun oot ae business.  Ma contacts in Nova Scotia ur aw well pissed aff wae the situation...whit a humiliation. Wan ae their clients is a right nasty basturt fae Memphis.  When he heard whit hid happened, he wanted tae send a fucking hit man across here tae help me oot.”

  “So, whit did ye tell him?”

  “Ah telt him we hid enough hit men ae oor ain and no tae bother wae any unnecessary expense and that Ah hid the situation in haun.  Hiv Ah Colin?”

  “Hiv ye whit?”

  “The situation in haun?”

  “There’s nae way in a month ae sunny Sundays that three grand will be haunded o’er, Pat.  That kind ae money isnae aboot these days…Ah kin tell ye that right noo.”

  “Ah widnae expect youse or that bunch ae Irish Micks tae haun o’er anything.  Fuck’s sake, Colin, how did a good Proddy like yersel manage tae get in tow wae that bunch ae basturts…and you a blue nose as well?”

  “Ach, they’re no as bad as ye think...wance ye get used tae them.”

  “Better you than me, boyo.”

  “That’s Welsh.”

  “Aye, well, same spuds, different accent.”

  “So, whit ur ye saying?”

  “Ah need a clear run fur a wee bit ae business oan Friday morning.  Hauf an hour tae an hour maximum wid be plenty time.”

  “The morra?  Oh, Ah don’t know.  Ah’d need tae get that sanctioned fae higher up.”

  “That’s fine by me, Colin.  Take yer time, as long as ye get back tae me nae later than this efternoon.”

  Efter another near miss ae lager and lime, Colin rocked back oan his chair, narrowing his eyes.

  “Pat, don’t take the mickey, noo.  We’re willing tae work something oot, bit we’re no gonnae turn o’er and bare oor arses.

  “Ah’m no asking ye tae bare yer arses.  Aw Ah’m asking ye tae dae is gie me a body swerve at ten o’clock the morra morning, that’s aw.”

  “Where?”

  “The tap end ae Parly Road.”

  “Whit’s at the tap ae Parly Road?”

  “Dae ye really want tae know?”

  “Pat, if ye want the go aheid, ye’ll hiv tae tell me whit’s up the tap end ae Parly Road.”

  “Why dae ye need tae know?”

  “Because Ah hiv tae assess whether there ur safety issues involving the public.”

  Silence.

  “It’s the British Linen Bank, so it is, isn’t it?” Colin exclaimed.

  “Is there a problem like?”

  “Is there shooters involved?”

  “Wan haungun full ae blanks and two sawed aff shotguns wae rice in the cartridges.”

  “Ah don’t know.  Ah’d need tae take this further.”

  “Colin, wan blast in the ceiling wae two ounces ae rice and a blank haungun gaun aff isnae gonnae dae anywan any harm.  There’s nae way any hero is gonnae make a move efter that.  They’ll be too embarrassed tae let oan that they’ve shat their pants.”

  “So, why there?”

  “The sawmill, Taylors and Macbrayne’s staff pay packets get deposited first thing before they open.”

  “Ah don’t know.”

  “We’ll be in and oot in five minutes flat.”

  “We’d want that fucking wee rodent fae The Glesga Echo aff oor backs…fur good this time.”

  “Done.”

  “Did Gina get away awright?” Big Pat asked Helen at the morning recreation session in the yard.

  “Aye, she looked pretty nervous though.  Ah telt her she’d be okay.  The baith ae us clung tae each other, greeting oor eyes oot fur aboot five minutes, before that big Hairy Martha wan came fur her.  Ah don’t see why they don’t let them go fur breakfast wae us.”

  “They want tae get people processed o’er at the reception.  Wance the paddy wagon comes tae collect them fur court, they’re aff within five minutes tae make sure they get through the traffic.”

  “So, will we get tae know at some stage?” Helen asked.

  “Ah know Pearl, wan ae the lassies who works in the kitchens.  She takes the grub across when the vans arrive in fae the courts.  She says she’ll get word tae me later oan in the evening oan how Gina goat oan,” Big Pat assured her.

  “Ah don’t know if Ah kin wait that long.  Ah feel sick awready wae worry.”

  “Well, whitever is gonnae happen, it’s probably been done and dusted by noo.  She’ll probably be wan ae the first wans up.  She’s probably sitting at hame hivving a cup ae tea wae her daughter, Meg, as we speak, the lucky git,” Wee Morag said cheerfully.

  “Dae ye think so?”

  “Oh, aye, there’s nae way Gina isnae gonnae walk.”

  “So, Ah wonder who ye’re gonnae hiv in wae ye the night, Helen,” Sally mused.

  “Oh, Ah never thought aboot that.  Ah suppose Ah’ll hiv somebody new.”

  “Ach, well, at least it’s only fur a night, eh?  Yersel and that Gina wan will be tripping the light fantastic the morra night, hen.”

  “Ah widnae put yer money oan it,” Helen mumbled.

  “Hoi, Helen, ye’ll slay them in that court the morra.  Ah only wish Ah could be there tae see the show, hen.”

  “Ah only hope whoever Ah get in beside me kin read and write.”

  “Why?  Ur ye getting fed up writing letters fur strangers ye don’t know?  Ah love daeing it,” Patsy said tae everywan, who aw nodded in agreement.

  “Naw, Ah feel as if Ah’m daeing something useful.  It’s jist that sooner or later we’re aw gonnae hiv tae move oan.  We need tae be thinking ae recruiting new people tae carry oan wance we leave.”

  “Helen, don’t ye worry aboot a thing.  Ah’ll nip up and speak tae yer new cell mate the morra...wance Ah suss oot her man’s no signed that bare arse ae mine,” Big Pat said tae hoots and cackling fae the lassies.

  “Aye, and we’ll aw start spreading the word that we need mair writers, starting the day, won’t we, girls?”

  “Oh, aye.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Right, ladies, in ye come.  Chop, chop, yer time’s up,” The Twitcher shouted.

  “So, whit hiv ye goat fur me, Liam?” asked Colin.

  “That wee manky crew ur holed up in the tap flair ae seventy seven Parson Street.  They don’t use the front door.  They go up through the hatch oan the landing and doon through a hole in the ceiling in the lobby.”

  “Dae we know which hoose it is?  We widnae want tae be breaking doon the door ae some poor soul who’s lying oan tap ae his wife, wid we?”

  “It’s a broon door and it’s goat a name plate oan it.  The other door is blue.  There’s nae name plate oan that wan.”

  “So, whit’s the name?”

  “Abdul Sing.  He lives oan St James Road.  He reported his name plate being nicked last week.”

  “Aye, they’re pretty fly, these young wans.”

  “Aye, bit no fly enough.  Ah cannae wait tae see their faces when they feel ma boot hauf-way up their arseholes.”

  “So, when ur ye gonnae move?”

  “The morra morning at dawn.”

  “Naw, ye’re no.”

  “Eh?  Whit dae ye mean, naw we’re no?”

  “There’s a crackdoon oan overtime.  Ye’ll hit them at ten o’clock oan the button.”

  “Colin, whit ur ye oan aboot?  These wee fuckers ur no like you and me?  They don’t appreciate long lie-ins.  They’re up and oot the door at the crack ae dawn, no matter whit time they go tae bed.”

  “Then ye’ll catch them some other morning.  Fur fuck’s sake, Liam, gie’s a break, will ye?  Ah’ve mair important things tae worry aboot jist noo.”

  “Bit Ah wanted tae be doon at the Central tae see that Taylor bitch getting sent doon.”

  “Whit dis it matter?  She’s fucked anyway, so leave it at that.”