Kingston Bridge

by Ian Todd

  Simon hid then gone oan tae tell them an interesting wee story aboot the superintendent. He’d claimed tae hiv come across Cleopatra before she’d arrived in the toon like the Queen ae Sheba, at some lecture at Glesga University that he’d skipped in tae, efter a meeting wae Graham Portoy, who’d mentioned it in the passing. Something tae dae wae forensic crime techniques in America, he’d said. He said that, even under a wig, she’d stood oot like a sore thumb. He also said that he’d spotted Glenda Metcalfe there as well. She’d acknowledged that Simon probably hid a point aboot the ex-poliswummin, bit hid argued that painting everywan wae the same brush wisnae always right.

  “And whit aboot the pair ae basturts that set aboot ye in the lane then?” he’d come back at her wae.

  She’d admitted tae them that she couldnae stoap thinking aboot Collette James, wasting away somewhere in some psyche ward jist because she’d tried tae challenge whit hid been gaun oan fur so long. She’d also acknowledged that she didnae owe the ex-poliswummin anything. Her argument hid been that, surely everywan, no matter who they wur, deserved the chance tae confront their tormentors, bit she knew their prejudice against the polis prevented them fae acknowledging that fact. She’d also wanted tae tell them that she wisnae like them or their girlfriends, that she’d changed, bit whit wid’ve been the point? It hid been an argument that Senga hid managed tae embroil hersel intae wae the lassies a while back, that hid resonated in that heid ae hers and forced her tae question whit wis considered the norm amongst her friends in the toon. Although she widnae hiv admitted it at the time, Senga hid forced her tae confront her ain attitude and admit that her perception ae life wis probably a lot different tae the other lassies. According tae Senga, the difference wis because she’d moved oot ae the toon and lived in amongst ‘ootside’ people who viewed life differently fae those in her sphere. Despite appreciating Donna’s kind side, there wis an ingrained bitterness there, that could never be eradicated due tae her experience ae being brought up oan the hard side ae the pavement in a place like Glesga. Bitterness like Donna’s and The Mankys’ started at a young age. Observing the way in which Wee Mary looked at Donna, they adoring eyes ae hers shining in awe, clearly wanting tae emulate her when she grew up, hidnae come as a surprise. Everywan in life needed a hero, somewan tae look up tae, who inspired them. Whit wid Wee Mary’s life hiv become withoot the patronage ae somewan as powerful ae Donna the Prima Donna? And whit wis wrang wae that anyhow? According tae Senga’s argument, she wis totally convinced that wance her and Johnboy wur well away fae the influence ae The Mankys and Glesga, his outlook and negative attitude towards authority wid change. She’d backed up her reasoning by quoting some American psychologist that stated that ex jail birds hid a far greater chance ae rehabilitation if they didnae return tae where they’d come fae. Success came fae a clean break fae the past. She couldnae remember which wan ae the lassies hid come oot wae it, bit she’d been secretly delighted by whoever it wis that hid hit back at her at the time.

  “And who says Johnboy really wants tae change like?”

  They could be a brilliant bunch, bit they wur nae pushover when they goat started. Poor Senga hid tried tae staun her ground under the onslaught efter that, bit everywan knew she’d been wounded. At wan point, Senga hid looked across tae her fur some back up, bit she’d jist sat back, cruelly letting her stew, staying quiet. She loved Senga dearly, bit at the time, she’d only jist arrived back in the toon and wis still smarting at whit she perceived tae be Senga’s past betrayal. At the time, witnessing Senga wilting under attack fae the lassies hid gied her some sort ae solace, or excuse, tae justify being back in the toon. Fur her, it hid meant everywan wisnae in agreement wae where Senga wis coming fae efter aw and that maybe, jist maybe, she wis still in wae a chance wae the boy she still loved. The lassies hidnae held back either. They’d baited Senga intae admitting that Johnboy hid never spoken tae her aboot his feelings efter being sent tae jail fur fourteen years, fur a crime he hidnae committed. Whit they wanted tae know wis whit made Senga so sure ae whit Johnboy wanted or needed, if he hidnae opened up tae her, aboot something as unjust as that. Where wis the expected anger, somewan wanted tae know. It hid only been since Donna’s recent challenge, aboot her fantasising aboot Johnboy remaining in the toon tae be wae her, that she’d finally accepted the inevitable. Of course, she knew Donna hid been right, as soon as she’d challenged her aboot Johnboy. Fur the first time since she’d been back in the toon, she’d finally come tae terms wae the fact that her and Johnboy Taylor widnae be spending the rest ae their lives thegither. Insteid ae making her distraught, it seemed tae hiv liberated her. She now knew where her focus lay…if only she could get past Ratty Arse’s inspection ae her article.

  “So,” he suddenly said stiffly, drapping his pencil oan tae the desk, looking across at her. “Ye know, when Ah first decided tae take a risk and gie ye a chance, you implied that ye wurnae connected,” he squeaked accusingly, sounding hurt. “Obviously, like a lot ae things aboot here, Ah wis wrang. Let me tell ye wan thing, though. Ah know these people oan the dark side a lot better than you’ll ever know. They’ll waste ye sooner or later, you mark ma words. In the meantime, this will go up the stairs tae the Gods this efternoon. Ah’ll argue fur its inclusion in the paper the morra, bit don’t you ever counter any decision Ah take in the future, by gaun ootside this newsroom. Hiv Ah made masel clear?”

  “Bit…”

  “Hiv Ah made masel clear?” he snarled, they mad rat’s eyes ae his blazing like two hot lumps ae charcoal.

  “Er, aye, Mr Elliot.”

  “Right, ye kin take this back and go and make the changes. Don’t you dare come back in here and question anything Ah’ve edited.”

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  A Tale Of Two Police Forces

  In 1960, fifteen years after the end of the Second World War and despite the Cold War between East and West entering a more dangerous stage, opportunities for a better life for those who came through a dark period in our history started to shine brightly. The new National Health Service, where everyone had free access to health care, irrespective of creed or colour, rich or poor, was celebrating being twelve years old. The start of the 1960s also marked a new change from the drabness of the 1950s, following the launch of NASA’s telecommunication satellite, Telstar, in 1962, which beamed live television pictures, telephone calls and telegraphs from outer space, as it orbited the earth in just over two hours, thirty-seven minutes. It was the start of a manufacturing and cultural revolution that brought The Beatles into everyone’s living room and rising living standards to more than just the lucky few.

  1960 also brought a steady rise in people’s income after the dark post war years, which lead the government of the day, only a few short years later, to announce that the average British family had never had it so good. With the growth in manufacturing and people’s prosperity came the growth in crime. It had long been recognised that whilst the men had been away fighting in the Second World War in the 1940s and in Korea throughout the 1950s, the increasing numbers of women taking responsibility on the home front, due to the shortage of able men in industry, was also reflected in police forces throughout the country.

  In 1960, female recruits in Scotland’s police forces were up fifty five percent, compared with ten years earlier, partly due to a national recruitment drive. Whilst male officers still dominated the ranks, there was a steady influx of women willing to cross the blue line to serve local communities up and down the land. For many in the service, particularly within the middle ranks, the surge of female recruits proved difficult, whilst others accepted it as a modern fact. Despite the new opportunities opening up, the rules concerning the employment rights of female policewomen were also challenging at the time. Policewomen were paid less than their male counterparts, whilst facing the same risks on the streets. If a female policewoman got engaged to be married, she had to resign from the force. Female recruits also had to wear skirts, as trousers were not deemed an appropriate
uniform dress code for women. Policewomen would have to wait another two years before that rule was changed.

  Another unknown, darker barrier to full integration into Glasgow’s finest was the predatory risks of lower to middle ranking officers’ sexual harassment of young female recruits. Whilst it can be acknowledged that this type of behaviour takes place in all employment walks of life in factories and offices, the treatment of a substantial number of young recruits within the ranks of Glasgow’s constabulary appears to have gone on, unchallenged and unchecked, by senior management over the past fifteen years. Pearl Campbell, The Glasgow Echo’s young award winning journalist, has recently uncovered a tale that is so shocking in its depravity, that those ex policewomen who have agreed to come forward and tell their story have had to have their identities changed before they would agree to be interviewed. Today in Scotland’s biggest selling daily newspaper, The Glasgow Echo, readers will be shocked to read about what happened after a twenty one year old virgin joined the force in 1961. To protect her, we’ll call her Ann. Soon after joining up, Ann started an affair with a local sergeant after being introduced to him by an older experienced female colleague, before she was ‘passed on’ to another police sergeant. After a short while, Ann was then passed on again, to an inspector this time. After being used and abused, the inspector proposed to marry her. After accepting his proposal, she then resigned from the force two years after joining up, as was the rule for married women at the time. Shortly after resigning, the inspector called off the wedding. The inspector in question was already married.

  This cynical behaviour from an identified, core group of influential police officers, became a recurring nightmare for a number of vulnerable young recruits over the years. Despite what was happening under their noses, senior management failed to respond to claims from the victims within the lower ranks of the force. Another example happened in 1964, when another raw, twenty one year old recruit, who we’ll call Isobel, was introduced to a sergeant by the same female WPC as Ann. Once again, Isobel was passed around the same sergeants and inspectors, after being manipulated with promises of promotion and genuine love. Isobel claimed to have been raped on two occasions by the sergeant brother of the female WPC, who had introduced Ann and Isobel to him. Isobel resigned from the force in 1965. Another recruit, Margaret, who suffered the same fate as her colleagues, joined the force in 1964. After being sexually assaulted over a period of time, she was then proposed to by a senior officer. After accepting and resigning from the force, she was stood up at her wedding at St George’s Tron Church in Glasgow by her fiancé, an inspector, who she later discovered was already married. Unfortunately, Margaret’s devout Catholic mother committed suicide as a result of the shame brought on her family. The list of victims who suffered at the hands of these same officers has carried on, unchecked, throughout the decade and into the 1970s.

  Our investigative journalist, Pearl Campbell, has obtained signed written statements from a group of ex-serving policewomen, who have all repeated the same sordid tale of sexual harassment and sexual assault from the same group of police officers, some of whom we believe still serve in the force to this today. On top of the incidents highlighted above, there was Jeanette in 1966, Caroline in 1967, June in 1969, Mary in 1971, Catherine in 1972 and Angela in 1973, who was forced to resign that year after lodging a complaint against a male sergeant, who she claimed had raped her in a police social club lavatory in the city’s Gorbals. Despite an internal investigation, conducted by some of the officers who are alleged to have been the perpetrators of the sexual harassment and assaults, the sergeant in question was let off with a verbal reprimand and moved to another police station. Angela, who later conceived a baby because of the rape, was recently assaulted by the unnamed officer and warned to ‘keep her mouth shut,’ after it became known that The Glasgow Echo was investigating the allegations of these brave ex-policewomen. Our intrepid investigator herself, Pearl Campbell, intervened in the assault after she arrived unannounced at the terrified victim’s house to interview her for this investigative expose.

  Today, we can exclusively reveal that the latest victim, a twenty four year old, recently promoted female sergeant, is currently under psychiatric care in hospital, after she recently challenged management about what had happened to her over a number of years. The exact diagnosis of the sergeant is unclear, though The Glasgow Echo understands that the condition of her health is so serious, that the officer in question has been sectioned for an indefinite period under the Mental Health Act.

  A Strathclyde Police spokesman said late last night, prior to publication of today’s revelations, that the current chief constable was unavailable for comment, but stated that the force had significantly moved on from the early 1960s and pointed out that all forces in Scotland have robust personnel structures in place to deal with internal complaints. The spokesman refused to comment further on the allegations and repeated that should a complaint be received from a past or current serving police officer, a thorough internal investigation would be implemented.

  Barbara Allen, Councillor for Keppochhill, Springburn, in the north of the city, has today demanded a public enquiry into the allegations and has called for the chief constable to resign immediately. Councillor Allen has called for a public demonstration to march through the city on Monday the 16th February, from Blythswood Square to Central Police Headquarters in St Andrews Square and is calling on all women in the city who are concerned about these allegations to take part. Councillor Allen has also pointed out that she, along with other female elected members, have been calling for an investigation into alleged sexual harassment of young female recruits in the police service in Glasgow for several years now.

  For more startling in depth revelations into this exclusive, explosive scandal within Scotland’s largest police force, please turn to pages four and five, where readers of Scotland’s biggest selling newspaper can read more details about how some of the policewomen interviewed claimed to have been assaulted, had their lives ruined and either ended up in psychiatric hospitals or became addicted to prescription drugs. We’ve also highlighted the efforts made by these brave women to finally find justice and expose how senior management within the force deliberately thwarted efforts by the victims themselves and elected councillors like Springburn’s Councillor Barbara Allen, who has been calling for a public enquiry into alleged sexual harassment of young female recruits within the force in Glasgow for several years.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  “Fuck’s sake, don’t look so nervous, Donald. We could’ve arranged tae meet ye somewhere a lot less public than here,” Tony reminded him, smiling and trying tae reassure Glesga’s answer tae Hugh Hefner that nothing wis gonnae happen tae him, efter the wee waitress placed the big teapot in the middle ae the table between them, then did a disappearing act.

  “M…me, n…nervous? Ah’m no nervous, so Ah’m no,” D’Artagnan, the fourth musketeer stuttered, shaking like a leaf.

  “Ah suppose Ah better dae the honours then,” Simon sighed, shrugging they shoulders ae his and filling the cups, as Tony lifted the wee milk jug and followed the tea spout daeing the rounds.

  “Is…is it awright if…if Ah light up?” Donald asked, nervously searching through his three-quarter length coat pockets.

  “Fuck’s sake, Donald. Aw ye’d need is a three-cornered tricorn hat and ye’d look like something oot ae wan ae they Blackbeard pirate movies we went tae the flicks tae see as weans. His anywan ever telt ye that?” Simon wondered pleasantly.

  “Er…Ah…Ah think Peter might’ve mentioned it in the passing, so he did,” Sleazebag Donald replied miserably, as the other two sat and watched him making three unsuccessful attempts before that fag ae his lit up.

  “It’s the moustache and wee wisp ae hair under that bottom lip that dis it…gies ye the look,” Tony grunted, taking a sip ae the tea.

  “Oh aye, so it dis, noo that ye mention it,” Simon acknowledged. “So, who the fuck ur ye meant tae be,
Donald? Long John Silver?”

  “Look, boys…”

  “Ach, we’re only kidding ye, Donald,” Tony reassured him, laughing. “Ye look fine and dandy, so ye dae. Disn’t he Simon?”

  “Dandy? It’s probably no the first description that jumps intae that heid ae mine,” Simon admitted, as a lump ae ash drapped aff the end ae Mr Skin Flick’s shaky fag intae his cup.

  “Look, Donald. Wid you bloody stoap that? Ye’re making me nervous wae aw that shaking, so ye ur. We only want tae know whit ye’ve come up wae.”

  “The…the doctor thinks it’s ma liver. He says Ah’ve tae slow doon, so Ah hiv,” Donald muttered miserably, taking a shaking gulp ae his hot brew.

  “Whit? The doctor says yer liver’s gieing ye the shakes?”

  “Er…aye.”

  “Anyway, furget aw that shite. Whit hiv ye come up wae?” Tony asked him, changing the subject, realising that whitever him and Simon said or did wisnae gonnae calm him doon.

  “Look, Ah don’t know if any ae this is kosher or no…ye…ye know whit the toon’s like.”

  “Naw, we don’t, Donald. Hurry the fuck up,” Simon said encouragingly.

  “Look, he’s only noising ye up, Donald. Don’t listen tae him. Ye wur saying?” Tony prompted, gieing Simon a dirty look.

  “It’s…it’s John The Haun, so it is.”

  “That two-faced basturt!” Simon cursed.

  “Er, aye,” Donald said, looking and sounding aw apologetic.

  “Carry oan,” Tony said encouragingly.

  “Joe Paste and Gordon Sizzles nipped him coming oot ae The International, jist before shutting time oan the Saturday efternoon, the morning efter Black Pat and that wife ae his copped their whack…Steady Teddy Shaw wis behind the wheel.”