Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (38 page)

  “Aye, seemingly she couldnae get a word in edgewise, he wis that sorry fur himsel,” Colin said, tae mair laughter.

  “Fucking smart move oan The Rat’s part though.  Who wid’ve thought the paper wid’ve managed tae resurrect the likes ae Harry Portoy oot ae the gutter, eh?”

  “It’s a pity he isnae six feet under.  Ah still widnae trust that wee basturt, jakey or no.  He’s still fucking dangerous in ma book.  You jist watch oot, we hivnae heard the last ae him,” Mickey Sherlock said, tae nods fae aroond the table.

  “Naw, he’s fucked fur good.  We still hivnae found oot where they’ve stashed him, bit he’ll be back tae The Tontine before too long.  We’ll be able tae keep oor eyes oan him in the future.”

  “So, ur we gonnae make sure Maggie gets a wee present, Sean?” Billy Liar asked.

  “Oh, aye.  Ah invited her doon here the day, bit she said she’d a meeting in Edinburgh first thing this morning and widnae be back till later oan the night.”

  “Aye, she’s wan ae the good people, is oor Maggie.”

  “And whit aboot Sir Frank then?”

  “He’s obviously no happy, bit he’ll get o’er it, the same as he always dis.  Ah’m sure he’ll come tae the right decision.”

  “Whit wis he like at school as a snapper, Sean?”

  “The same as he is jist noo…a fucked-up, pretentious wee prick who thought the rules wur meant fur everywan else apart fae him and his family.”

  “And Molloy?”

  “He demanded mair than whit he wis gonnae get oot ae us.  We’ve compromised a wee bit and he’s happy enough.  Ah telt him, as long as nowan gets hurt, we’ll play ball,” Colin replied.

  “Bit, he’s no getting a free haun, Ah hope?”

  “Naw, naw.  He knows fine well that everything is done oan an individual, wan-tae-wan basis and that if he steps o’er the line, him and they ugly Murphy brothers will be taken doon a peg or two.  Ye jist hiv tae humour him and let him think he’s in control.  Piece ae pish.”

  Helen lay oan her bunk.  She wis gonnae take o’er Gina’s bed, bit she’d goat used tae the tap wan, despite the climb.  She wisnae too sure whit time it wis.  It wis dark ootside and she hid the cell tae hersel.  Word hid come through when the lassie drapped aff the tea aboot hauf eight.  Gina hid goat sentenced tae nine months.  Nine months!  Helen hid been greeting oan and aff fur the better part ae two hours.  She thought aboot whit The Rat and Harry, the lawyer, hid said tae her aboot justice or the lack ae it.  How the hell could anywan call it justice, sentencing a poor wee wummin like Gina tae the jail fur stabbing some basturt who’d beaten her up every week fur thirteen years or mair?  Where wis the sense in that?  She knew Gina wid be in the jail somewhere.  Wan ae the lassies hid telt her that ye goat put under observation when ye goat sentenced, tae start wae, till they wur sure ye wurnae gonnae herm yersel.  Helen thought aboot her ain life and the past week in particular.  She knew she wis feeling sorry fur hersel when she burst oot greeting fur the umpteenth time, thinking aboot aw the lassies who’d come o’er and gied her a hug.  Helen never knew ye could greet and laugh at the same time.  At least it hid never happened tae her before.  Wee Morag, telling Helen that she wis like wan ae they Irish rebels in the songs because ae whit she wis daeing aboot the warrant sales up in the Toonheid hid embarrassed her.  She hidnae admitted it tae any ae them, bit she wis really chuffed aboot the song they’d made up aboot her.  When she thought aboot Wee Morag running alang the gallery and scudding Big Martha Hairy Chops wae a prison issue towel full ae period blood…although disgusting…it made her feel good that there wis at least some wummin willing tae fight back, even though Wee Morag wis only seventeen.  Maist ae the wummin she’d met in the jail hid been evicted by The Corporation or hid hid their furniture sold at wan time or another through a warrant sale.  Their lives wur shite, bit tae hear the screams ae laughter coming oot ae them, ye widnae hiv thought they’d a care in the world.  Poor Sally, who wis sitting waiting fur her carpet-fitter salesman tae come and sweep her aff her feet in his fancy posh car, wis an absolute darling.  They wur aw fantastic tae be wae.

  “Noo, listen up, Helen.  Ah might be desperate fur a good lawyer, bit even Ah wid draw the line at a circus clown.  Ah know Ah might hiv a bit ae a reputation in ma family regarding ma choice ae men, bit Ah don’t gie a shit aboot whit ye’re saying aboot how good he is, Ah’m no turning up tae court wae Coco The Clown speaking up fur me wae that auld ma ae mine sitting there looking oan.  Ah widnae want that lover boy ae mine tae think Ah wis a pushover or something,” Sally hid said, straight-faced, oot in the yard efter Helen hid described Harry Portoy’s outfit. 

  The lassies, including Helen and Sally, hidnae been able tae stoap laughing fur aboot ten minutes.  That hid been the starter fur ten.

  “Kin ye imagine the Judge?  Er excuse me, son, Ah think ye’ve arrived at the wrang building.  The Kelvin Hall is o’er in Partick,” Wee Morag hid chipped in.

  “Aye, kin ye imagine the reply?  Honest, Ah really am taking this case seriously in representing ma client, yer honour.”

  “Or how aboot, Ah’ve telt ye a hunner times before, yer honour, ma name’s no Coco?”

  “If ye think Ah look stupid, yer honour, ye should see the other partners in the firm.”

  “Ah’m sure that summons didnae say, ‘make sure ye get yersel a decent clown tae represent ye, hen,’ the judge says tae Helen.”

  “There will be no clowning aboot in ma court while Ah’m sitting oan the bench...who the fuck let him in?”

  “Judge tae the brief, ‘Ur ye taking the pish?’”

  “It’s spelt C-O-C-O, yer honour,”

  “Ah know whit this must look like tae you, yer honour, bit Ah kin explain.”

  It hid gone oan non-stoap fur aboot hauf an hour.  Laughing, greeting and then back tae laughing.

  Helen stared at the ceiling.  She knew she wis goosed.  She regretted no pleading harder wae Harry Portoy tae take her oan, although it hid been obvious that he wisnae a well man.  The Rat hid goat Harry tae ask her tae organise a meeting wae aw the maws, if she goat aff the next day, seeing as he hid kept tae his side ae the bargain by printing a good story oan the warrant sale up in John Street at Auld Madge’s.  Harry hid mentioned that The Sunday Echo wur planning tae put oot a big spread in this week’s Sunday paper and that The Rat needed tae get the story done and dusted by six o’clock, at the latest, oan Saturday night.  He widnae need Johnboy and his pals involvement.  Well, that widnae hiv been an option open tae him anyway, she thought tae hersel, before falling asleep.

Chapter Forty Eight

  Friday

  Johnboy could hardly breathe.  They’d spent hauf the night exploring the city oan the back ae lorries and hid aw collapsed intae the wardrobe withoot saying a word tae each other when they’d goat back.  He’d thought he’d heard the school bells gaun aff earlier, bit wisnae sure.  It could’ve been the noise ae aw the snoring and farting inside the wardrobe.  He pushed up the door and stepped oot.  He looked doon at Silent, Paul, Tony and Joe.  The space he’d jist left hid awready filled up, so it wis gonnae be a basturt tae try and wriggle himsel back in tae a comfy spot.  He wis tempted tae let the door drap shut wae a bang, jist like Paul, the selfish basturt that he wis, hid done the morning before.  Paul hid been the only wan that hid thought it wis funny.  When Paul hid played his wee joke, the rest ae them hid thought the bizzies or The Murphys hid drapped doon intae the lobby fae the loft, bit it hid jist been the door slamming shut and the big mirror oan the ootside ae the door smashing intae a million pieces.  Johnboy hidnae been able tae hear his heart beating fur the sound ae the other three hearts pounding beside him like a room full ae Zulu drums.

  “Paul, ya dirty fucking nutter, ye,” Joe hid screamed oot.

  “Whit?  Ah’m only hivving a laugh,” the selfish tadger hid laughed back.

  “That’s it, ye’re gonnae fucking suffer fur that, ya fud pad, ye,” Tony hid snarled, rolling o’er and kidding oan he wis able tae get back tae sleep.

  Silent hid shot up wae a look ae sheer terror oan that face ae his, cracking open his foreheid oan the inside ae the door frame, wae baith ae his hauns clutching his heart.  Later oan, everywan hid confessed that they’d been feeling jumpy as fuck and kept hivving nightmares since Skull hid goat done in.  Silent hid then confessed that since being sent tae The Grove, he wis the same.

  “Fuck’s sake, Silent. The Grove is a holiday camp compared tae some.  Wait until ye’re sent tae some ae they Catholic approved schools.  Yer arse’ll soon know whit a nightmare feels like then,” Paul hid said, as everywan burst oot laughing, except fur poor Silent.

  Johnboy let the door doon gently.  They’d aw agreed the night before that, although some things wur funny, drapping a big heavy wardrobe door shut when yer pals wur sleeping inside, wisnae wan ae them.  He went through tae the kitchen and jumped up oan tae the draining board and stood there daeing a pee in the sink.  It must’ve been because ae the fact that he’d jist woken up that he never sussed oot at the time that something wisnae right, because aw the signs wur there.  The first obvious hint he missed wis the squad cars sitting doon oan St James Road, beside Collins, the book publishers, jist alang fae Canning Lane. Johnboy could see cars, vans and lorries whizzing past fae where he wis staunin, aiming fur the plug hole.  He wisnae really paying attention, bit as he wis staunin there fur whit seemed like ages, wae nae sign ae his tank being empty, the sky blue and white patchwork ae the squad cars finally caught his eye.  He couldnae make oot if anywan wis sitting in them and he never made the connection wae himsel and the others through in the wardrobe.  He jist assumed somewan hid broken intae Collins and the polis wur up tae see whit hid been nicked.

  The second hint he goat that something wisnae quite right wis when he glanced up and thought he spotted that skelly-eyed bizzy, Crisscross’s heid, drapping doon oot ae sight at wan ae the tap flair windaes in the tenement across fae him.  Efter staunin watching fur a couple ae minutes, he assumed he wis jist imagining things, so he jumped aff the sink and heided back intae the other room.  It sounded like a den ae weasels wae the racket coming fae the wardrobe.  He took two bob oot ae the cash stash box and hightailed it up intae the loft, heiding fur The Parklee Dairy, up oan the corner ae Taylor Street, tae get some rolls and milk fur their breakfast. 

The third hint that something wis definitely wrang came when he wis sauntering up Ronald Street tae the dairy.  Wan ae the local sergeants came walking roond the corner fae Taylor Street and clocked him before daeing a wee fly aboot-turn.  As Johnboy reached the corner ae Taylor Street, the basturt pounced.  The fact that he missed Johnboy by a mile didnae take away fae the fact that Johnboy felt like an eejit and thought he deserved tae be in the jail.  As soon as he clocked the bizzy, he should’ve nipped back and alerted the snoring weasels.

  “Jim, ya stupid basturt, ye, don’t let that wee runt get away or we’re aw fucked,” wis the last thing he heard as he bolted across the road, through the backs and o’er the dyke behind The McAslin Bar, like wan ae Jimmy Whippet’s dugs efter a cat.

  Eric Bristol, manager ae the Parly Road branch ae The British Linen Bank didnae know he wis getting robbed until hauf the intricate rose plaster roond the light bulb above him came aff and landed oan his napper.  As he lay dazed oan his back, spitting oot plaster dust behind the coonter, wondering whit the fuck hid hit him, he looked up.

  “Morning, Ah’m here tae make a withdrawal,” a cheerful voice said fae behind the mask looking doon at him.

  “Bit, bit...” he managed tae splutter, as he wis dragged tae his feet and frogmarched o’er tae the big green safe door wae the fancy gold writing oan it.

  “Open it!” the voice commanded.

  “Bit, bit...”

  Wan ae the other robbers then pointed a pistol at him.  Eric looked intae the barrel and hesitated.  The broon leather glove that wis gripping the gun raised itsel up jist ever so slightly and fired.  Eric buckled at the knees, bit the other robber, who’d frogmarched him tae the safe, caught him before he landed oan the flair again and dragged him back up oan tae his feet.

  “The next wan goes intae that heid ae yers.”

  “Bit, bit...” Eric said, still hesitating.

  “Right, staun aside, Bob,” the gunman said, as the robber who wis haudin Eric up quickly moved away fae him.

  Eric managed tae get the keys oot ae his pocket and intae the lock before the gunman hid a chance tae fire again.  As he pulled the big door open, the two robbers pushed past him intae the safe.  Eric, although dazed and terrified, saw his chance and turned tae flee, bit wis stoapped in his tracks.  Staunin oan tap ae the coonter, facing him, wis another robber, pointing a sawn-aff shotgun straight at his face.

  “If Ah wis you, Ah’d jist staun there fur a wee minute longer, Jimmy.”

  Eric stared intae two barrels this time.  As the pish ran doon his inside leg, he wis glad tae see that Jean and Linda wur safely sitting doon on the flair beneath the robber oan the coonter, wae their hauns covering their faces.  He hoped he wid maybe get a chance tae move away fae the puddle he wis staunin in, withoot them noticing that he’d pished himsel, wance the robbers hid gone.

  It wis noo or never, The Sarge thought tae himsel.  Crisscross hid jist arrived up the close tae say that wan ae them hid goat away.  Big Jim hid missed the wee toe-rag by a mile.  Jinty and Flighty Bob wur awready up the loft looking doon through the hole in the ceiling, waiting fur the signal tae jump doon intae the lobby.  The Sarge looked aroond.  The landing wis pretty cramped wae aw the uniforms.  As well as Crisscross, he hid Dark Tam, Derek Two Chins and Wullie Bender there.  Everywan wis looking at him fur the signal tae go.  It hid been agreed that Big Jim wid wait at the bottom ae the stairs, in case any ae the toe-rags managed tae get past them.  He nodded at Crisscross, who flew at the door wae his shoulder.  There wis a loud thud and everywan jist hid time tae body swerve Crisscross as he came hurtling back at a hunner miles an hour, efter ricocheting aff Abdul Sing’s good name plate.  Fuck this, thought The Sarge, as he ran at the door and gied it a swift kick wae the heel ae his size elevens.  The door flew open and they aw piled in, shouting fur nobody tae move.  The only other sound wis Flighty Bob and Big Jim landing in the lobby fae the hole in the ceiling behind them as they charged intae the front living room.

  “They’re no here, the wee basturts,” Dark Tam cursed, saying oot loud whit everywan else wis dreading.

  “Check aw this oot,” Flighty Bob exclaimed happily, looking through aw the contraband.

  “Ah’ll hiv the fags,” Derek Two Chins said, turning o’er the Senior Service box oan tae its side so he could read the writing.

  “We’ve hit the jackpot, lads.  Look,” Wullie Bender whooped, sitting doon oan the wardrobe and pulling the cardboard box wae the cash stash in it, up oan tae the tap ae it, beside him.

  “How much dae ye think is in it?” Crisscross queried, rubbing his shoulder and peering doon intae the shoe box, alang wae the rest ae them.

  “Ah fucking telt Colin we hid tae be up here at the crack ae dawn,” The Sarge growled, bit nowan paid any attention tae him as they wur aw staring at the coins and notes in the box.

  “Ah’d say thirty tae forty quid…easy.”

  “Naw, there’s mair than that.  Look at aw that silver.  Ah’d say there’s mair like fifty.”

  “Dae ye think so?”

  “Well, fur fuck’s sake, Wullie…there’s only wan way tae find oot.”

  Wullie tipped the coins oan tae the wardrobe door.

  “Right, Jobby, ye’re oan two bob bits and hauf croons.  Tam, tanners and thrupenny bits and Bob, aw the coppers.  Ah’ll dae the notes,” Wullie announced.

  They aw looked up as Big Jim appeared through the door.

  “Don’t tell me?”

  “Ah telt Colin we’d need tae be up at the crack ae dawn tae catch the wee basturts.  He widnae listen,” The Sarge moaned.

  “Whit a shite hole ae a place.  Ye wid’ve thought they’d hiv at least tried tae keep the place a bit tidy,” Big Jim said, poking at the pile ae glass that hid been the mirror oan the wardrobe door wae the toe ae his boot and pointing at aw the empty orange bottles scattered aboot the flair.

  “Animals!  Whit wid ye expect?”

  “Aye, Ah thought we’d missed the boat when Ah clocked that wee Taylor wan strolling up Parson Street.  Ah jist aboot bumped intae him when Ah turned the corner.”

  “Did ye try and nab him?” Two Chins asked him.

  “Ah made an attempt, bit he wis aff like shite aff ae a shovel.  This is a young guy’s game nooadays, Derek.  Ah remember the time when ye jist shouted and they’d stoap oan the spot, waiting fur ye tae come tae them.  These wee animals hiv nae respect, no like they used tae hiv.”

  “Fifty three pounds and thirteen bob,” Wullie announced.

  “Fuck!  They wee arseholes must’ve been oan overtime.”

  “Thank fuck, eh?” Flighty Bob said tae laughter.

  “Whit dae we dae noo, Liam?” Big Jim asked The Sarge, as the baith ae them stood watching the four excited constables sitting oan the wardrobe, divvying up the money intae six equal piles.

  “Right, lads, start taking the good stuff doon the stairs tae the cars,” The Sarge commanded, pocketing his share ae the dosh.

  “Whit car dae ye want the fags tae go in, Sarge?”

  “Big Jim’s.”

  “We’ll need tae remember tae take that nameplate back tae the darkie, efter we come back fae the court,” Crisscross said, heiding fur the door.

  “Is that everything?” The Sarge asked Big Jim, following Crisscross towards the door.

  “As far as Ah kin see,” Big Jim replied, aboot tae follow The Sarge oot the door.

  He hesitated.

  “Whit?” The Sarge asked him, looking aboot in case he’d missed something.

  Big Jim turned and walked back across tae the wardrobe, lying oan it’s back in the middle ae the room, and opened the door.

  “Well, well, wid ye look at whit Ah’ve jist found.”

  Helen felt drained.  Ootside in the corridor, doors were constantly opening and slamming shut tae the tune ae jangling keys.  She could hear the vans arriving and the shuffling ae feet oot in the corridor.  She wis sharing the cell wae nine other wummin, aw ranging fae seventeen tae seventy, who wur aw squatting oan the flair, the lucky wans wae their backs against the brick, tiled wall.  Wan poor wee soul wis weeping quietly, bit uncontrollably, in the corner, underneath the rusty grill that blocked oot any natural light fae coming through the windae high up oan the wall.  Nowan spoke.  Helen wisnae too sure how long she’d been sitting there wae her eyes shut, when she heard JP’s voice in the distance.

  “Open them up and roll them oot,” he barked.

  “It’s like something oot ae ‘Rawhide,’ so it is,” the lassie opposite her said.

  “Aye, well, noo that we’re rolling, Ah cannae see us being dealt wae before the efternoon noo,” wan ae the aulder wummin murmured.

  ”Whit makes ye think that then?” Helen asked her.

  “Because we’re sitting in number five,” she replied wae a dismissive wave ae her haun.  “They tend tae start at number wan and move roond tae ten.  Did ye no see the numbers above the cells when they shuffled us alang the corridor?”

  Helen wis in two minds about that extra bit ae information.  If she wis tae be sent doon again, it widnae matter, bit if she wis tae be let oot, she’d need tae get alang tae the hoosing department fur her two o’clock meeting.  This wis aw she needed.  She’d arrived at the court building jist efter hauf eight.  She’d caught sight ae the clock in the turnkey’s office oan the way by.  It hid taken aboot two hours tae get tae the Central Court fae Gateside and noo it wis anywan’s guess when she’d be called up.  She’d thought aboot whit Harry Portoy hid telt her.  She’d accepted in her mind that she wisnae getting oot the day, bit she wid still staun her ground and try and question the whole proceedings, as calmly as she could.  She hoped there wid be a good turnoot fae the lassies.  She didnae hear the approaching footsteps until they wur jist ootside her cell.