Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (58 page)

Chapter Twenty Eight

  They hidnae dwelt too much oan whether Tiny hid miraculously managed tae get oot ae the tank wance they wur back in the den that night.

  “He isnae gaun anywhere, so Ah widnae worry, Paul,” Joe chipped in, slinging doon an Ace ae Spades.

  “They lights flickering wur a bit creepy,” Johnboy said, shivering, thinking aboot it.

  “As the poisonous dwarf said himsel, it wis the car battery running oot.  Take that, ya prick, ye,” Tony chuckled, taking Paul’s Ace ae Clubs wae a Five ae Hearts, which wis trumps.

  “Aw, fuck you, ya Atalian knob-heid.  Ye kept that wan quiet, ya basturt,” Joe retorted tae Tony, who smiled and winked o’er at Johnboy. 

  “Stoap yer whinging and play again, Fud-heid,” Tony smiled, throwing doon an Ace ae Hearts.

  “Dae ye remember when we tanned Sally Sally’s hoose, jist alang the road and Skull came hame and slept at mine’s?” Joe asked them.

  “Naw.”

  “It wis only a couple ae days before we tanned the Murphys’ loft.  Something he said tae me that night still upsets me whenever Ah think aboot it,” Joe said, getting everywan’s attention.  “Ah’ve never mentioned it tae any ae youse before, bit when we wur lying in bed that night, Skull said something really sad tae me that Ah’ve never ever furgotten aboot.”

  “Oh, aye?” Paul asked, throwing doon a Nine ae Diamonds, as he looked across at Joe.

  “He asked me if ma maw or da ever gied me a cuddle.  He wisnae saying it tae make a big deal oot ae it or anything,” Joe said defensively, “bit it wis jist the way he said it, lying there in the dark.  It’s hard fur me tae explain noo, bit his voice sounded really sad…jist like a wee wean’s, if ye know whit Ah mean?”

  Silence.

  “And did ye?” Silent suddenly asked Joe oot ae the blue, startling everywan.

  “Did Ah whit?”

  “Ever get a cuddle fae yer ma?”

  “Silent, we never get a bloody cheep oot ae ye fur months oan end and then when we dae, aw ye kin ask is if Ah goat a cuddle fae that maw ae mine?  Ur ye fucking twisted or whit?”

  “Well, did ye?” Silent persisted.

  “Silent, shut the fuck up and play yer haun,” Joe snarled, leaning o’er and grabbing wan ae Silent’s cards before slinging it doon oan tae the others.

  “See, that’s why Ah’ve nae fucking regrets aboot leaving that Tiny wan in the tank the day.  Poor Skull didnae deserve that…no tae be toasted alive by that pair ae basturts,” Paul murmured, staring intae the embers ae the briquettes in the hearth. 

  “So, whit ur we gonnae dae aboot Mick Murphy then?” Johnboy asked oot loud, no sure if he really wanted tae know, the game ae Bella furgotten aboot.

  Silence.

  “Ah’m still no convinced they other Murphy basturts wurnae involved.  Everywan knows fine well that they hated Skull,” Joe said.

  “Naw, it wis Mick, so it wis,” Tony said, throwing another briquette oan tae the fire.

“It makes sense noo.  If The Big Man knew or suspected we’d tanned the loft, he wid’ve come back at us long before noo.  Whit we heard fae that wee poisoned dwarf wis probably the truth.”

  “Well, whether The Big Man did or didnae know, that Mick wan is gonnae be copping his whack, so he is,” Paul growled, looking roond the faces.  “Ah think we should burn the basturt…the same as he did tae Skull.  An eye fur an eye and aw that.”

  Silence.

  “Furget a fire, Paul. We’ll shoot the basturt in the face.  We hiv tae be realistic,” Tony finally spoke, as a flashback ae poor Jessie getting shot in the heid, doon at the lights oan Parly Road, the day Horsey John died, whizzed through Johnboy’s brain.

  “Bit, whit aboot oor promise doon at the closemooth beside Sherbet’s?” Joe reminded everywan. “Fire and brimstone and aw that.  Ah say we burn the basturt, the same as he did tae Skull.”

  “There’s far mair ae a chance ae getting away wae it if we keep it straightforward.  Everywan knows fine well that he’s a right psycho basturt.  He’s goat plenty ae enemies.  The good thing aboot oor situation is the fact that him or his brothers don’t know whit we know.  There wid be nae reason fur us tae get the blame, other than somewan clocking us daeing it at the time.  Tae burn Mick wid mean hivving tae kidnap him and take him someplace quiet.  Too risky,” Tony mused.

  “Hiv ye heard the latest aboot him?” Paul asked.

  “Whit?”

  “Ye know how he’s taken o’er the running ae The McAslin Bar?  Well, he wis in there the other week efter hours, mad wae the drink.  Manky Malcolm, fae the rag store roond the corner, refused tae cough up fur his pint because he claimed he’d awready paid fur it.  Whit did that Mick wan dae?  Pulled oot a fucking boner knife and slashed him fae his ear doon tae his chin.  Before Malcolm could react, he’d been punched oan the heid by Peter The Plant, who wis wearing a knuckle-duster.  They dumped him ootside the Rottenrow Maternity Hospital, who’d then tae transfer him up tae The Royal.  Ah heard that they put thirty seven stitches in that face ae his and ten oan the side ae his heid where he wis punched.  Seemingly, Shaun hid tae go roond and apologise oan The Big Man’s behauf, because Mick refused tae.  Ah heard that Malcolm is drinking in The Atholl Bar noo,” Paul said, slinging another briquette oan tae the fire.  

  “Aye, shooting wid be too good fur a prick like that!”

  “We’d need tae be really careful that nothing came back tae us.  Wan whiff and we’d be joining Skull,” Joe reminded them, looking at the flickering faces.

  “Erchie The Basturt?” Paul asked Tony.

  “Aye, him and his brother, Philip, hiv hid a few run-ins wae the Murphys in the past, well before oor time and still came oot ae it staunin.  Erchie won’t hiv a problem supplying us wae a gun fur the right price,” Tony agreed, nodding.

  “Ah heard that there wis a big shoot-oot, sometime in the early fifties, between Erchie, Mad Philip, Dan The Dandy and they Murphys.  Danny Murphy goat shot in the arse and Dandy lost that big toe ae his.  Is that right, Tony?”

  “They managed tae save his toe. The Big Man wis away doon south somewhere when it aw kicked aff.  Danny hid bought some ammo aff ae Erchie and then reneged o’er the repayment.  That’s why Erchie and Mad Philip don’t gie tick noo.  It’s aw cash-in-haun.  Anyhow, wan thing led tae another and when it didnae look as if Erchie and Mad Philip wur gonnae get whit they wur owed, the baith ae them, alang wae Dandy charged roond tae The McAslin Bar and let rip.  The Murphys jist aboot shat themsels.  The Big Man charged back up the road fae wherever he wis and squared up the money they owed Erchie and Mad
Philip.  There hisnae been much love lost between them ever since. They keep oot ae each other’s way, although there’s been a few wee skirmishes o’er the years,” Tony said.

    “How dae ye know aw this, Tony?” Johnboy asked.

   “Mad Philip telt me. He used tae tell me aw the stories fae the auld days, aboot whit they goat up tae during the war, when Ah ran messages fur them and put lines oan doon at the bookies in Queen Street, when Ah wis dogging primary school.”

  “Erchie’s place is like Fort Knox, and that’s jist tae get a letter posted through his letterbox,” Paul said tae Silent.

  “So wis the Murphys’ loft, bit it didnae stoap us fae tanning that, did it?” Johnboy said tae laughter.

  “We’ll nip roond and suss oot Erchie efter we’ve been tae see The Big Man the morra.”

  “We?” Paul asked.

  “Johnboy kin come wae me tae keep me company,” Tony replied, smiling.

Chapter Twenty Nine

  They stood looking aboot, checking oot the best escape route tae get oot ae the building in wan piece, should things go wrang.  Johnboy hid chosen tae turn right when they came oot.  That wid take him alang the lane and through the side entrance tae Queen Street Station.  If he didnae get lost in the crowd, at least he widnae get murdered in front ae the passengers coming aff the ten fifteen fae Aberdeen if he goat nabbed.  Tony wid heid left and nip across George’s Square and alang Cochrane Street, still within eyeshot ae witnesses gaun aboot their business.  Hanover Lane wis wan ae they lanes that nowan took any heed ae, apart fae those in the know.  It wis dark and narrow, wae cobbled stanes running its length.  The pavement oan either side ae it wis only aboot twelve inches wide.  Even oan a bright sunny day, it wis always dark due tae the closeness ae the buildings.  A car wid jist manage tae crawl through it withoot touching the pavement oan either side ae it.  Even though it offered people a shortcut between North Frederick Street and North Hanover Street tae Queen Street Train Station, it always looked deserted.  If somewan wis tae hing aboot long enough, they’d clock people heiding roond the long way via George Street tae get tae the train station, rather than pass through the lane.  Whit people didnae realise wis that is wis probably the safest place in the toon centre fur no getting mugged.  Nowan wid be stupid enough tae mug somewan in Hanover Lane, in case they wur hitting wan ae The Big Man’s high rollers.

  “Ah wonder how many people hiv come flying doon here heid first?” Tony grimly asked Johnboy, as they climbed the steep, narrow, curved stairs tae the second flair entrance ae The Carlton Club…the hub ae The Big Man’s business empire.

  “Boys, look who’s jist come tae pay us a wee visit?  If it isnae Ali Baba and wan ae his four thieves,” The Big Man chimed happily tae the Murphy brothers, who wur sitting beside him in a seating alcove, below a haun painted wall mural ae some wummin flashing her left tit, who wis sprawled oot oan a wan-ermed couch.

  “Hellorerr, Pat…ye wur wanting a wee word?”

  “Aye.  Ah jist wanted tae see how ye’re daeing?” The Big Man replied, wiping some cigar ash aff ae his club tie oan tae the pile ae notes that wur sitting oan the table in front ae them, being coonted by the Gorilla Brothers. 

  He hidnae changed o’er the years since Johnboy first met him.  He still looked like Desperate Dan’s twin brother.

  “We’re daeing fine, Pat, jist fine.”

  “Well, grab wan ae they chairs and come and join us.  You tae, Johnboy.  How’s that wee maw ae yers daeing?  Ah hivnae seen her attacking anywan fae The Corporation fur a while noo.”

  “Ah don’t know.  The last time Ah saw her wis when Ah wis up in court a good few months ago.”

  “Oh, aye, Ah heard youse wur oan the run.  Where ur ye crashing then?”

  Silence.

  “They don’t fucking trust ye, Pat, so they don’t,” Mick slurred, hauf-cut at ten in the morning.

  “Aye, well, it pays tae be careful, so it dis.  Ah kin understaun that.”

  “Aye, bit if ye cannae trust yer friends, who kin ye trust, eh?” Danny, Mick’s twin asked.

  “Here and there, Pat.  We’re in-between abodes…ye know whit it’s like,” Tony replied,
encouraging them tae move oan.

  “Ur ye still breaking intae poor people’s dookits then?” Skull’s killer sneered.

  “No since everywan and his dug ended up wae their ain quality Horsemen Thief Pouters,” Tony replied innocently. 

  Johnboy felt that sphincter ae his instantly stretching tae within a baw-hair ae snapping.  He couldnae believe whit Tony hid jist come oot wae.  He wondered if he wis imagining things.

  “Whit wis that?  Whit did he jist say?” The mad drunken basturt snarled, as four sets ae eyes aw instantly narrowed intae slits.

  “There’s nothing tae be made fae doos these days.  Everywan kin get whit they’re efter, so they kin,” Tony added, as he plapped his arse doon oan a chair while Johnboy grabbed the wan oan the outer circle, nearest the door, feeling twitchy.

  “Aye, that’s why Ah goat oot ae that business,” The Big Man sighed wistfully.

  “Ah don’t want tae be cheeky, Pat, bit we’ve goat tae go and see somewan aboot a wee bit ae business, if ye know whit Ah mean?” Tony said, still pushing the conversation in the direction that wid allow them tae get tae fuck oot ae the place.

  “Ha, Ha, ye’re still a cheeky wee basturt, Tony.  That’s why Ah like ye.”

  “Aye, whit wis aw that shite aboot between yer toe-rag pals and Billy Whizz yesterday?” Shaun asked, speaking fur the first time.

  Silence.

  “Right, let’s get doon tae business.  We widnae want tae keep the boys away fae making an honest illegal buck, noo wid we?” The Big Man announced cheerfully, clearly getting fed up wae being interrupted at his favourite past-time ae counting dosh.

  “We need a wee two-minute job done,” Shaun said.

  “Tae be honest, Shaun, we’re up tae oor eyes the noo, trying tae keep wan step aheid ae The Stalker and Bumper, as well as trying tae make a bob here and there,” Tony replied apologetically.

  “Fur fuck’s sake, ye don’t think we want ye tae dae this wee favour fur nothing, dae ye?”

  “Aye, Ah know, bit…”

  “Ye hivnae even asked whit it is that Pat wants, so whit’s the problem, eh?”

  Silence.

  “Look.  As Shaun’s jist said, it’s a two-minute job.  Ah jist want ye tae pick up a wee package.  It’s a piece ae pish fur the likes ae youse, so it is.  Whit dae ye say?”

  “Whit is it?”

  “Right, whit day is it?  Oh, aye…Wednesday.  Oan Friday night, there’s a black Volvo twelve hunner S that’s goat a wee square black leather briefcase sitting in it. It’s gonnae be parked in the lane opposite The Chevalier Casino, at the tap ae Buchanan Street.  It’ll be there fae aboot hauf ten oanwards.  Whit Ah want fae you, is tae get a haud ae that briefcase…or mair importantly, tae get me the blue folder that’s in it.  It’s as simple as that.”

  “Ah don’t want tae cheeky, Pat, bit if it’s that simple, why kin Mick or Danny here no go and get it fur ye?”

  “Because he wants youse tae go and get it, that’s why, ya cheeky wee basturt, ye,” Shaun shouted, nearly making Johnboy deaf in wan ear.

  “We cannae be seen tae be anywhere near it, that’s why,” The Big Man said quietly.

  “Whit if it’s no there then?”

  “Tony, don’t ye worry aboot that, son.  It’ll be sitting in that car…guaranteed.”

  “Whit’s in it fur us?”

  “Twenty quid.”

  “And it’s a blue folder ye’re efter?”

  “Aw Ah want is the blue folder.  If there’s a green, orange or a fucking tartan wan, ye kin dae whit ye want wae it.  Aw Ah want is that blue folder.  Ah’m no interested in anything else.  Jist deliver that blue folder tae me…in person.”

  “So, ye’re asking us tae tan in a car windae, efter ten oan a Friday night, opposite The Chevalier?  That could be dodgy, so it could.  The toon centre’s usually hoaching wae bizzies at that time ae night.  The pubs will jist hiv emptied.”

  “Shaun?” The Big Man said.

  “Here, use this,” Shaun said, throwing whit looked like a wee fat pen oan tae the table, which landed wae a clunk.

  Tony didnae make a move, ignoring the pen.

  “It’s an automatic centre-punch.  It’s used oan metal.  Ye jist press it against a car windae and it’ll shatter it intae a thousand pieces withoot making a sound,” The Big Man said, as Tony leaned across and picked it up, haunin it tae Johnboy, withoot looking at it.

  “Twenty quid fur a blue folder?”

  “Aye.”

  “We’ll need a tenner up front.”

  “Here ye go,” The Big Man said, peeling aff two blue five pound notes fae the stack in front ae him.

  “And anything else in the car is oors, apart fae the blue folder?”

  “Aye.”

  “Right, let’s go, Johnboy,” Tony said, staunin up and pocketing the money, as Johnboy followed him towards the exit.

  “Aye, aye, Tony.  We heard youse wur back oan the go, so we did,” Philip Thompson, known tae aw and sundry in the toon as ‘Mad Philip’, said as they entered the cobbler’s shoap in Shuttle Lane, jist aff the High Street.

  “Hellorerr, Philip, how’s it gaun?”

  “No bad, no bad,” Mad Philip said, as he shaved the side ae a screaming heel against the electric shoe grinder.

  “Kin Ah hiv a shot, Philip?” Johnboy asked him.

  “Aye, here ye go, Johnboy, here ye go.  If it smokes, ye’re pressing too hard,” he said, slinging the shoe’s twin o’er tae Johnboy.

  “Brilliant!”

  Johnboy wis suddenly engulfed in a cloud ae screeching, burning smoke, as soon as he touched the wheel wae the shoe.

  “Ha, ha…it’s no as easy as it looks, eh?  No that easy, so it’s no,” Philip laughed.

  “Is Erchie aboot, Philip?”

  “Aye, aye, Ah think so.  Haud oan a minute,” he chortled tae himsel, disappearing.

  “Johnboy, ye’ve jist ruined some poor basturt’s shoe,” Tony laughed.

  “Aye, Ah know,” Johnboy replied, slipping the shoe wae its forty five degree angled heel under the perfect wan that Phil hid jist lay doon.

  “Jist go through, boys.”

  “Cheers, Philip.”

  Erchie The Basturt wis staunin wae a glue-stained apron oan, surrounded by aboot a hunner shoe soles.  The stench ae glue made Tony and Johnboy light-heided.  Erchie wis wee…aboot four feet nothing, fattish, bald and wore bottle-bottomed horn-rimmed glasses.  He didnae look much, bit wis as lethal as a black mamba wance he rolled they sleeves ae his up.  If he did that, ye knew it wis time tae run like fuck.  It wis Erchie that hid haun-made Calum Todd, The Big Man’s runner’s running shoes, fur free, when he competed and won the bronze in The British Empire and Commonwealth Games in Jamaica in nineteen sixty six.

  “Tony, ya thieving wee toad, ye.”

  “Awright, Erchie?  Whit ur ye daeing sniffing glue at your age, eh?”

  “There wis a time Ah used tae hiv tae go and lie doon when Ah used this stuff.  Sometimes Ah’d be lying there, thinking Ah’d better get back tae work as ma five minute tea break wis up, only tae discover six hours hid flown past,”  Erchie said as they laughed.  “Noo, Ah don’t take a break.  Time passes too quickly.”

  “How come ye’re putting the glue oan and then letting it dry oot?” Johnboy asked, picking up a sole and gently dabbing the glue wae his fingertips.

  “Ye kin leave it fur aboot an hour.  As soon as ye stick it oan tae a shoe, it sticks like iron, even though it’s touch dry.  Anyway, whit ur youse pair ae chancers efter?”

  “We wur wanting a wee bit ae advice…in private…if that’s okay, Erchie?”

  “Whit kind ae advice?”

  “Whether ye’re the right person fur us tae place an order wae or no,” Tony replied.

  “Right, follow me.  Johnboy, pull the door doon behind ye,” Erchie said, lifting up a trap door oan the flair and stepping doon through it.  Wance they goat doon tae the next flair level, he lifted up another trap door.

  “Same again, Johnboy.”

  Efter reaching the second underground level, it wis like walking intae the armoury at The Alamo.  The room wis aboot five times the size ae the living room that the boys wur kipping in up in McAslin Street.  It hid a glass fronted coonter roond three walls, which wis stowed-oot wae boxes ae cartridges.  Up oan two walls, there wis every kind ae haungun ye could think ae, while the third wis stacked fae the flair tae the ceiling wae rifles and shotguns.  There wis even a harpoon oan display.  Where the fourth wall should’ve been, there wis an opening oan tae a firing range, complete wae the paper baddies that ye’d see in the films.

  “Before we start, it’ll be cash in haun?”

  “That’ll be dependent oan whit’s oan offer,” Tony replied.

  “Right, o’er here,” Erchie said, walking o’er tae the furthest part ae the room fae the door, where there wis a wee alcove.

  “Is this the cheapo section then?” Johnboy asked him.

  “This is the early twentieth century tae the forties section, which might or might no be within yer budget.  So, whit ur ye efter then, Tony?”

  “Something simple wae nae frills.”
  “Okay, here we go then.  At the tap there, ye’ve goat a German Walther P-thirty-eight, nine millimetre auto.  This wis the wan the Jerries used during the last war…the German PO eight Luger beside it isnae fur sale, by the way.”

  “Is that a real Luger then?” Johnboy asked, impressed.

  “Aye.  People always assume that aw the Jerries ran aboot wae them in the Second World War, bit they didnae.  It wis standard issue in the first war though.  Here’s a reasonable wan ye might want tae consider.  It’s a Russian Nagant revolver, model eighteen ninety five.  It’s an awkward basturt, bit will dae the job.  It wis chambered fur the seven point six two thirty eight R cartridge, which is essentially a point thirty calibre round, so it’s a bit smaller in the bullet diameter than the nine millimetre.  Tae the left ae that, is yer standard Smith and Wesson point thirty eight revolver.  This is whit a lot ae the cops in America ur issued wae.  Everywan knows aboot them fae watching the movies, so they’re always popular.”