Dumfries (19 page)

  If he wis honest, Johnboy hidnae been prepared fur the sight that hid confronted him and Silent when they’d strolled intae Wee Jimmy’s office.  Who wid’ve been?  When they’d first arrived at the laundry factory, they could barely hear themsels fart.  Apart fae a permanent big cloud ae steam hinging o’er the building and the taste ae bleach catching them in the back ae their throats, the racket that hid been coming fae the back end ae the wash-hoose hid been like rolling thunder.  As well as aw the shitey sheets and manky towels fae the hotels aroond the city getting washed at Jimmy’s, he’d invented a new wash method fur people’s Levi 501 denims and jaickets.  God knows how he’d come up wae it, bit insteid ae people buying a nice pair ae 501s and then lightly taking sandpaper tae the legs ae them tae saften them up and gie them a washed-oot look, Jimmy hid moved oot ae his auld office and hid stuck hauf a dozen ae Honest John McCaffrey’s second haun washing machines in tae it.  He’d then moved two ae his Chinese laundrymen tae shovel wee roond chucky stanes intae the machines wae the Levis, before washing them.  The denims came oot looking great.  Every wee ticket in the toon, including The Mankys, hid started tae use Jimmy’s washhoose-blues washing method, as he called it, tae get their 501s and denim jaickets faded.  Jimmy hid then went and set up a new office in the yard, across fae the main building.  According tae Tony, Wee Jimmy hid a cash flow problem due tae a bit ae bad luck oan the nags and dugs and he needed a short-term loan tae pay fur his office conversion and that week’s wages fur aw his Chinese workers, who wur seemingly every bit as bad as Wee Jimmy wis when it came tae betting oan the nags.  When Silent and Johnboy hid turned up at Jimmy’s office tae drap aff Tony’s loan, a big lump ae a basturt, wae hauns the size ae shovels, hid Jimmy bent sideways across his new desk, thumping his heid aff ae it.  As well as howling like a banshee, Wee Jimmy hid looked absolutely terrified.

  “Whit the fuck dae youse pair ae clowns want?” Deck McGuiness hid demanded tae know, no letting up oan using Jimmy’s napper as a bouncing basketbaw.

  “Er, we’re here tae speak tae Jimmy,” Johnboy hid replied, trying tae figure oot how tae ease Wee Jimmy’s current predicament.

  “Well, he’s busy, so fuck aff,” Deck hid snarled, resuming smashing the hell oot ae the tap ae Wee Jimmy’s new desk.

  “We’ll wait,” Johnboy hid informed him, plapping that arse ae his doon oan tae an empty seat that wis sitting vacant by the door.

  “Ur youse pair ae bampots trying tae take the cunt?” Deck hid snarled, tossing Jimmy away fae him like a limp rag doll, staunin up straight tae his full height.

  “Us?  Naw, naw.  We’ve goat a wee bit ae business wae Jimmy here that cannae wait, so we hiv,” Johnboy hid replied, in the maist friendly voice he could muster under the circumstances, nodding across at Wee Jimmy, who wis jist picking himsel up fae the flair, as Deck’s notorious short patience ran oot and he made a move towards Johnboy.

  That hid been as far as Deck hid goat.  Silent hid whipped oot his fancy PPK and hid blasted Deck oan the side ae his heid before his second step landed in front ae Johnboy’s ootstretched feet.  Fuck, whit wur they supposed tae dae noo, Johnboy’s brain wis still screaming inside that heid ae his.  He knew Tony wid be bloody fizzing wae them.  Silent hid jist gone and done whit everywan hid wanted tae avoid.  Noo Wan-bob wid be rubbing his hauns wae glee.

  “Er, look, Jimmy, we’re gonnae hiv tae shoot the craw, so we ur.  Here’s the money fae Tony,” Johnboy said eventually, haudin o’er the wad ae notes.

  “Bit, er, whit Ah’m Ah supposed tae dae wae him?” Jimmy, face as white as wan ae his newly-washed sheets, shrieked fearfully, suddenly realising that he’d participated in the demise ae wan ae Honest John McCaffrey’s favourite enforcers.

  Greasy Jake’s scrap yard wis jist a few hunner yards away.  It hid awready crossed Johnboy’s mind tae nip roond there tae ask fur a haun, bit he didnae think that Jake wid take too kindly tae being asked tae dae them a favour in daylight hours as delicate as that, completely oot ae the blue.  In fact, the mair he thought aboot it, they’d be mair likely tae end up in the boot ae a car, alang wae Deck, heiding fur the crusher.

  “Ah’ll tell ye whit, Jimmy.  Get in touch wae Danny Murphy.  Tell him Ah said ye wur tae get in touch wae him tae gie ye a haun tae get rid ae Deck here,” Johnboy replied, no being able tae contain himsel, knowing fine well he wis pouring oil oan troubled water.

  “Bit, bit…”

  “Listen, it’ll be okay.  Wan-Bob knows we wur oot and aboot trying tae catch up wae Deck.  We’ve been oan his tail aw day.  Wae the racket yer machines ur making, we knew this wid be the right place tae pass oan Wan-bob’s message.  Jist mind and keep yer trap shut and this door locked fur the rest ae the day.  Don’t worry, Danny will keep ye right, so he will,” Johnboy said, heiding fur the door, deliberately no saying a word tae Silent in case he ended up hivving a square go wae the daft basturt in front ae Wee Jimmy and the stiff oan the flair.

  “Sorry aboot yer good wallpaper, Jimmy,” Silent hid the cheek tae murmur, apologetically, speaking fur only the second time in three weeks, as he stepped o’er the body oan the flair, following Johnboy oot the door.

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

Police have confirmed that the skeletal remains of a decomposed body found ten days ago in a subterranean cellar in the old Firhill Iron Works in Ruchill is believed to be that of a Mr Simon Pawlak, a plasterer by day and a well-known entertainer in the city at night, who goes by the stage name of Python Lee Jackson.  Police have also confirmed that a post mortem has established that Mr Pawlak drowned.  Detective Chief Inspector Bobby Mack, who is investigating the death, confirmed that Mr Pawlak’s body had been found where it had been lying for up to six months and admitted to being baffled as to how Mr Pawlak’s body got into the cellar.  The nearest water to where Mr Pawlak was found is the Forth and Clyde Canal, although Chief Inspector Mack has ruled that location out, as it appears that Mr Pawlak may have drowned in fluorided tap water. Inspector Mack has appealed for anyone to get in touch with him if they have any knowledge of Mr Pawlak’s last confirmed sighting, which was on Friday, 24
th
November last year, walking along Firpark Street in Ruchill on his own at around 2pm in the afternoon.  Members of the public can contact Chief Inspector …

  Mrs Bella McPhail, a twenty-seven-year-old hostess was found guilty at the city’s Sheriff Court of running a house of ill-repute, or a brothel, as Procurator Fiscal, Glenda Metcalfe called the premises.  Mrs McPhail was fined a total of thirty pounds and bound over to keep the peace by Sheriff Clifford Burns…

  The Dumbarton Road branch of The Clydeside Bank was held up this morning and a substantial sum, believed to be in four figures, was stolen.  A customer withdrawing cash at the branch was taken to hospital where seventeen stitches were inserted in his head after one of the gunmen hit him over the skull with the barrel of a shotgun, after discharging it at the ceiling.  Two female bank tellers, thought to be suffering from shock, have been kept in hospital, under observation, but both are thought to be on the road to recovery…

  Four youths walked free from the dock of Glasgow Sheriff Court after being found not guilty of mobbing and rioting between rival gangs in Baltic Street, on the south-east side of Glasgow, earlier this month.  Mr Graham Portoy, the solicitor for the accused, claimed that the charges against his clients were based on prejudice against young people by the police.  Mr Portoy claims that his clients have no choice but to hang about street corners as there is nothing for them to do in the evenings. He also stated that if the procurator fiscal’s office invested some of their energy into working with young people, instead of criminalising them, then the benefits to the city would be enormous.  Glenda Metcalfe, one of the city’s attractive procurator fiscals, who had pursued the charges against the youths, refused to comment as she left the court this afternoon.  Miss Metcalfe later issued a statement accusing Mr Portoy of manipulating and undermining the justice system, so as to profit off the misery of the countless, silent majority of victims, who Mr Portoy’s past and present clients have been terrorising every week, within communities across the city…

  Four elderly women, all spinsters, were rushed to Gartnavel hospital this morning with food poison, before being transferred to Glasgow’s Royal Infirmary where one of them unfortunately died.  The Corporation’s Sanitary Inspector for the north of the city, Elvis Presley, is assisting the police in determining the source of contaminated meat found in the home of one of the women, who all stay up the same tenement closemouth…

  Health Unions have expressed concern at the number of nursing staff in Glasgow, particularly at the city’s Royal Infirmary’s Casualty department, who are regularly being subjected to threats of violence by patients under the influence of drink or drugs.  Health Managers say they are treating these incidents seriously and have called on more police presence, particularly at the weekends in…”  

Chapter Seventeen

  “I’ll be sorry to see you go, Jim.  You’ve been a most loyal and effective chief officer to me,” The Governor said.

  “Ah thought this wid’ve been ma last move before retiring, so Ah did.  Ah’ve only goat eighteen months tae go,” The Chief replied, still clearly mystified by the decision.

  “Well, The Department obviously recognises your experience and what you bring to the job, Jim.  Why else send you all the way up to Peterhead in Outer Siberia?”

  “Ah spoke tae Henry Baker oan the phone last night.  He said he wis as surprised as anywan when they asked him tae move doon here.  He said he wis embarrassed, as he hid tae gie aw the boys at Barlinnie their retirement presents back.  Ah jist cannae understaun the suddenness ae the decision.  If he’s starting oan Monday, that’ll be less than a week’s notice.  It’s unheard ae, so it is.”

  “Yes, well, I’m sure it’s because they’ll want you well settled-in before any more trouble breaks out up north,” The Governor surmised, as Miss Beaker knocked oan his door.

  “The security escort is here with the new prisoner, Governor,” she informed him, popping her heid roond the door.

  “Just send them right in, Miss Beaker,” he replied, opening up the file oan his desk.

  “Right, jist staun there and gie yer name and number tae The Governor!” SO Dick barked at Smith.

Silence.

  “Did ye no hear whit Ah said?  Gie yer name and number tae The Governor!” he barked again.

  The Governor looked up fae the file.

  “It’s okay, Mr Dick, I’ll take it from here,” The Governor said.

  He looked at the young thug staunin in front ae him.  He hidnae changed since he last saw him two and a hauf years earlier in Polmont.  He continued tae read the file in front ae him.  It said Smith wis noo eighteen.  The file informed him that the inmate staunin in front ae him wis five feet ten inches in height, hid blond hair, grey eyes and a fair complexion.  He didnae sport any tattoos or any distinguishing marks apart fae a scar oan his back where he’d been stabbed while serving time in borstal.  The Governor remembered the incident.  Smith hid jist been let oot ae solitary confinement earlier that day efter serving seven days.  He’d been allocated tae work in the pallet work shoap, if The Governor’s memory served him right, tae serve oot the remainder ae his sentence until he wis released.  He’d only hid a week left tae serve before being liberated, when another inmate hid plunged a chisel intae Smith’s back and punctured a lung.  Smith and his co-accused, Taylor, who wis still up in Longriggend, awaiting transfer, hid been released oan the morning ae 31
st
December 1971.  It hid been Hogmanay, the same morning that his wife Alison hid been shot.  Although well-known associates ae the three who’d arrived the previous week, baith Smith and Taylor wur no thought tae hiv been involved in the shooting ae his wife and her lover.  Apart fae his nine month stint in borstal in 1971, there wur nae convictions oan his record sheet since he’d left Thistle Park Approved School in 1970 until he wis convicted ae being involved wae Taylor in robbing a bank and shooting two polismen in the Maryhill district ae Glesga.  It wis the security intelligence, put thegither by the Glesga Polis, that gied the reader a clearer picture ae the appalling lifestyle and crimes that Smith hid been involved in.  The Governor shook his heid in disbelief, wondering why it hid taken so long fur Smith tae be finally charged wae anything.  The background intelligence information contained in the file stated that Samuel Smith wis a member ae a relatively small bit extremely violent gang ae young thugs in Springburn, in the northern part ae the city.  It stated that the gang wur known tae be actively involved in extortion, hijacking, resetting ae stolen goods and wur thought tae be responsible fur the alarming rise in armed Post Office hold-ups across the central and northern part ae the city since March 1972.  It also stated that Smith hid been identified as being the gunman and prime suspect in a number ae underworld related murders, bit obtaining evidence that wid’ve stood up in court hid been difficult. Unbelievable, The Governor thought tae himsel, shuddering.  The Governor looked at the prisoner.  The two officers that hid escorted Smith intae his office wur staunin oan either side ae him, practically touching his ears wae their noses, bit Smith still managed tae look aboot The Governor’s office as if he didnae hiv a care in the world.  He gied the impression that he could’ve been staunin in a bus queue as opposed tae staunin in front ae The Governor’s desk, aboot tae start a five-year prison sentence.

  “So, we meet again, Smith,” The Governor taunted the prisoner.

  “Look at The Governor when he’s speaking tae ye, ya piece ae shit,” The Chief snarled, as the prisoner slowly and casually turned and looked at The Governor.

  “Now, Smith, I want you to consider very carefully what I’m about to say, because you won’t get a second chance. What I’m about to tell you, I have already informed your loutish friends already incarcerated here.  From here on in, until you leave this institution, you will obey the rules and carry out all, and I mean all, instructions promptly, if ordered to do so by a prison officer.  There will be no backchat or cheek.  If you step out of line, I…we…will be down on you like a ton of bricks.  Do I make myself clear?”

  Silence.

  “Do I make myself clear?” The Governor roared at him, spit flying across the desk.

“Answer the governor when he’s speaking tae ye!” Dickheid Dick, The SO shouted in the prisoner’s right ear, covering that side ae his face in spit.

  “So, whit’s the score wae that wife ae yers then?  Is it true that she’s back tae nagging fuck oot ae ye, efter spending aw that quality, loved-up time, being pumped silly by that Big Tam Simpson wan fae across in Possil?” Silent asked wae a grin oan that face ae his.

  There wis a momentary shocked silence, before The Chief and the two escort screws, aw jumped oan the prisoner and started pummelling fuck oot ae him wae their fists and feet, as The governor leaned o’er the tap ae his desk wae a wooden ruler in his haun, whacking away at Silent’s back in-between the flying boots ae the screws.