Kingston Bridge

by Ian Todd

  “Sight? Whit sight?”

  “Well, put it this way, that face ae hers wis in that lap ae his, bobbing up and doon like a yo-yo, so it wis. Christ knows whit that wis aboot, bit yer da wid’ve killed me if Ah’d goat up tae any ae that filthy stuff, so he wid’ve,” she’d harrumphed.

  “Bit…”

  “If that wan’s a natural blonde, them Ah’m Mae West, so Ah am,” she’d continued, touching up her blue rinse indignantly. “They black roots under the peroxide hair at the back ae her heid wur like something straight oot ae the Black Forest, so they wur.”

  She couldnae remember whit other shit her ma hid gleefully rabbited oan aboot efter that, before she’d managed tae evict her fae the flat. Aw she’d picked up wis that efter Ronnie hid zipped himsel up, wae difficulty seemingly, him and Chantel hid bolted oot the front door, him hivving nipped through tae their bedroom first, tae grab the suitcase he’d arrived wae a few weeks earlier. She hidnae heard fae him since. She wis still numb at the discovery. She hidnae slept in her bed that first night efter the thought ae them hivving done it in there…the basturt.

  She unscrewed the bottle and gied it a wee shake as she tipped it o’er. A bundle ae pills scattered oot ae it oan tae her cupped haun. She lost count efter twenty. There wis plenty tae dae the business, she reckoned. She looked at hersel in the mirror again. She didnae feel nervous. Jist a calmness that hidnae been there fur a long time. It wis doon tae her noo. She looked at the glass full ae water oan the shelf in front ae her. She stood listening fur any sound coming fae the weans’ bedroom. She checked the snib oan the door in the reflection ae the mirror. It wis locked fae the inside. Her ma hid an ootside door key that she could let hersel in tae the flat in the morning. There wis nae turning back. She reached up fur the glass, closing her eyes as she lifted up her haun tae her mooth.

  Chapter Forty

  Pearl arrived at the boardroom wae Hugh McAllen, The Glesga Echo’s chief legal brief, jist as the backs ae the superintendent and her inspector sidekick disappeared through the door aheid ae them. She’d been getting briefed by McAllen in the presence ae The Rat and Hamish McGovern, the paper’s editor, fur the previous hauf an hour.

  “Remember, you’re the victim here,” The Rat hid squeaked, staunin aside tae let them pass.

  Seemingly, there hid been a few heated conferences, up oan the tap flair, before an agreement tae allow the interview tae take place hid been agreed. Oan the wan haun, the polis claimed tae hiv been eager tae interview her efter she exposed the assault in the lane, doon in North Hanover Street. The polis wur insisting that it wis their duty tae investigate the assault, efter the claims she’d made in the column. Oan the newspaper’s side, the newspaper wur warning the polis aboot undermining the freedom ae the press, especially in light ae her mair recent, explosive expose. Unwittingly, because ae the assault by the polis, she’d become the heidline act oan the front page ae The Evening Citizen, while The Evening Times hid featured her prominently in wan ae their inside pages. Since then, she’d been getting aw sorts ae letters, maistly fae men, proposing marriage, promising tae protect her or spelling oot in graphic detail whit they’d like tae dae tae her. She’d been able tae read a few ae the sick wans before she’d willingly agreed tae allow aw the incoming correspondence addressed tae her tae be vetted before it reached her desk. She wis amazed at the amount ae sick, perverted men, there wur oot there. She’d even goat wan fae The Mad Wanker, the violent inspector fae the car park alang in Montrose Street. It hid been his letter that hid convinced personnel that her incoming mail needed screening. Efter a wee bit ae digging doon in the archive section, she’d found him. The stupid pervert hid signed aff the letter in his ain name. His name wis Jake Sullivan. He’d been an inspector in the south ae the city, mainly operating in Govanhill, up until three years earlier. Wan ae his female sergeants, who’d been in charge ae tracking doon whoever it hid been that hid been snow-dropping aw the local wummin’s knickers aff ae the washing lines in the back courts, hid finally snared him and he’d been chucked oot ae the force efter being fined fifty quid. Seemingly, his bedroom flair hid been covered in semen-stained wummin’s knickers. He’d also confessed that it hid been him that hid been sending aw the local WPCs and female sergeants in Craigie Street, including the wan that hid arrested him, some ae the fancier knickers that he’d blagged aff ae the washing lines. The filthy beast hid posted the knickers, asking his female colleagues if they’d wear them tae their work. Everywan ae them, withoot exception, hid hid dried semen stains aw o’er the gussets ae them. When she’d asked if the letters wid be getting haunded o’er tae the polis, Mary Hanson, the heid ae personnel, hid jist smiled at her before opening a filing cabinet.

  “Look,” she’d invited.

  There must’ve been hundreds ae them.

  “Mind you, that last wan ye goat fae that clatty basturt, the ex-inspector, wis hard tae beat,” she’d smiled, referring tae The Mad Wanker fae the car park, who’d begged her tae come and squat doon o’er him, before taking a piss oan that face ae his, while at the same time, toss the clatty sick basturt aff.

  “We used tae send them roond tae Central, bit they claimed that there wis nothing they could dae. They said that it wid take up too much manpower, plus they always said that the majority ae the letters wur jist pure fantasy, perverted stuff, fae sad lonely men. We’ve jist goat tae accept that this is the sick society that us wummin hiv tae work and live in, Pearl, hen. That auld boss ae yours, Mary Marigold? Hers wur the sickest…until yours started coming in, that is,” Mary hid added, as the baith ae them hid chuckled nervously.

  Nowan spoke efter the first initial introductions, bit jist sat looking at each other, waiting fur somewan tae kick aff the proceedings. She’d deliberately gone in past DIRTY JAKE’S BOUTIQUE the day before and spoken tae Kim Sui. She’d clocked Cleopatra a few times fae a distance previously, bit hid never hid an eye-ball tae eye-ball wae her. She’d looked like an extra fae some SS war movie. Everything, fae her shoulder pips, including her ruby wine lips, looked black and shiny. Her hair wis immaculate, tied in a wee tight bun at the back, the lights in the ceiling being reflected aff the shine ae it. Her face wisnae cruel, in fact, it wis the opposite. It wis the uniform that did the damage. Oan a man, it might’ve come across as a bit authoritative, bit oan her, wae they black wet-look small-heeled shoes ae hers, she came across as bloody terrifying. Kim Sui knew exactly where she’d been coming fae.

  “You want to show her what a professional woman in a uniform should look like?” Kim hid asked her, smiling.

  “Aye, bit like her, Ah don’t want tae look like something oot ae that George Orwell novel, 1984. Ah’m no in there competing fur the men’s attention by scaring them shitless. Ah want tae highlight ma femininity, bit come across as a professional, while showing her that Ah’m nae pusho’er either,” she’d replied.

  Kim hid disappeared and come back wae a classic smart Coco Chanel suit, wae ivory collar, cuffs and trim. The jaicket and skirt wur made ae a black silk and synthetic clipped fabric, that matched the understated ivory damask blouse, similar tae the wan that Kim hid gied her a few days efter she’d arrived back in the toon the previous October.

  “For your business lunches when you get a job with The Herald,” she remembered Kim Sui saying, smiling.

  Under the jaicket, she wore wan ae Chanel’s black signature bows tae set the suit and blouse aff tae a T. She’d swithered whether tae tie up her hair at the back, jist like Cleopatra’s, bit it wis too long and thick, the curls making her look like she hid a burst mattress sitting oan her napper, so she’d let it jist hing doon freely. The only doon side, as far as she wis concerned, wis that everything she wis wearing, including her thick curly red hair, highlighted that pale, freckled face ae hers.

  “Believe me, Pearl, one day women will be spending a fortune, trying to imitate that natural beauty look you have,” Kim hid assured her supportively, hivving obviously read her mind. “Enjoy it while you can. If you ever want to model,
please give me first shout.”

  Maybe Kim Sui hid a point, she’d thought tae hersel, as she crossed Hope Street earlier, haudin her Gucci saddle bag tightly against her chest, as a taxi driver suddenly skidded tae a halt, jist in the nick ae time, before running o’er the polisman’s left fit who’d been staunin oan the wrang side ae the white lines, gawping at her as she skipped oan tae the pavement oan the other side. Underneath the short skirt, she wore black, sheer tights, that wur nice and warm, alang wae a pair ae low chunky-heeled Christian Dior shoes, wae a silver buckle oan each toe. She convinced hersel that Cleopatra wis as impressed as aw the men in the room, when it became disturbingly obvious that Cleopatra couldnae take her eyes aff ae her, even before the introductions kicked aff. She looked across at the superintendent.

  “We’re here, Inspector McTavish and I, to obtain a few more details regarding the alleged assault by two uniformed sergeants on Miss Campbell, in North Hanover Street, that she so eloquently highlighted in her recent article in The Glasgow Echo’s sexual harassment allegations.”

  “Gaun back, fifteen…nearly sixteen years,” Pearl interrupted, no being able tae contain hersel, reminding her and Inspector Skulk ae the seriousness ae the allegations.

  “Ah, yes, quite, although I’m sure everyone will appreciate that our internal investigating team haven’t quite managed to work back as far as that…yet. Investigating serious allegations, such as the ones highlighted in the article, may require experienced investigators to spend some time in order to separate fact from fiction,” she drawled pleasantly, no being able tae contain hersel either, slipping that stiletto ae hers intae the nearest ribcage by reminding them, and Pearl in particular, that she wisnae there tae take any nonsense fae anywan.

  Pearl wanted tae come back at her snidey insinuations regarding her journalistic investigative skills, bit like everywan else in the room, wis mesmerised by the cool, detached apparition sitting there in front ae her.

  “May I have an ashtray?” she asked Hamish The Editor, who jumped up and dashed aff tae fetch her wan, as she slowly lit up the wee slim Panatela, that she’d slipped oot ae a green leather pouch.

  “And remember, nae smoking up there. Hamish hates people who smoke,” The Rat hid warned her.

  “So, perhaps Miss Campbell would like to explain, in her own words, what happened in North Hanover Street on the evening of Wednesday the 7th of January?” she asked efter Hamish hid returned.

  The inspector withdrew his wee service notebook and pen, looking across at her in expectation.

  “Ah’d jist come fae a public meeting up oan Stirling Road. Efter the meeting hid finished…”

  “And what time was this?” Cleopatra interjected, blowing a stream ae smoke in Hamish’s direction, clearly noising him up, as he sat squirming in his chair, looking green.

  “Jist efter hauf nine. Ah wis heiding back doon intae the toon, doon here tae ma work. It wis jist at the opening tae North Hanover Lane that Ah wis accosted by two bears…er, polis sergeants. They wur behind me. Wan ae them asked if he could hiv a word wae me.

  ‘Excuse me, hen. Kin we hiv a wee word?’

  ‘Oh, bit…’

  ‘Ah thought tarts like you operated up oan Blythswood and no doon here?’ wan ae them growled.

  ‘Take that, ya wee fucking cow ye,’ he snarled, slapping me oan the side ae ma heid and sending me flying doon oan tae the cobbles ae the lane.

  The other wan quickly stepped forward and kicked me in the guts before dragging me back up oan tae ma feet by the throat, so he did.”

  “How do you know they were sergeants?”

  “By the stripes oan the sleeves ae their waterproof jaickets.”

  “But, you never caught their badge numbers on their shoulders?”

  “No. Ah cannae remember how many times they punched, slapped and kicked me efter that until that final punch tae ma stomach, which sent me back doon oan tae the deck. They jist casually walked away up the hill in the direction ae Cathedral Street. By the time Ah picked masel up, they’d disappeared.”

  “You mentioned in your article that as well as assaulting you, they verbally threatened you, although you weren’t specific what the threat was in relation to.”

  “Ah wis telt tae stay away fae the Teddy Bare enquiry.”

  “I see,” Cleopatra murmured, the slits that wur her eyes suddenly opening. “It must have been a very frightening experience for you, dear.”

  Cleopatra wis trying tae sound genuine, bit failing, as she looked across at Pearl in the same way that Kaa, the hungry hissing python in the Jungle Book, looked at the dazzled hypnotised wee Mowgli up the tree, before Bagheera, the black panther, gied his tail a right good tug.

  Silence.

  “I know this may come across as being contrite, but I, we, will do everything in our power to bring those responsible to justice,” she purred.

  “Aye, well,” Pearl replied, managing tae drag her eyes away fae hers, as aw the men suddenly snapped oot ae their hypnotic state, suddenly finding things ae interest tae look at oan the shiny toes ae the shoes they wur wearing.

  Pearl wis surprised that she didnae feel mair emotional or as angry as she thought she wid. Cleopatra wis the ‘smoking gun’ that she’d been desperately searching fur, in her drive tae expose the cover-up that hid suppressed the evidence that wid’ve gied aw the ex-poliswummin an escape fae the twilight world ae self-doubt and self-loathing, that hid enveloped them and their families’ existence fur so long. She knew fine well that Cleopatra and her skulks hid only jist arrived oan the scene fae the Highlands and that the cover-up hid been gaun oan fur a lot longer than that. The difference wis that she hid hard evidence ae the superintendent’s collusion…ae her destroying the evidence in the form ae Susan McFarlane’s wee bundle ae letters that she’d handed o’er tae Collette James. If she wis honest wae hersel, she’d awready known in her heart that it wid’ve been the superintendent, the so-called scourge ae the men in the polis force, that hid the answer tae whit hid become ae the letters. The only unanswered question she hid wis why. Why hid the elegant and sophisticated looking wummin sitting across fae her, seriously let doon the past and present wummin ae the polis force? Wilma Thain hid telt her that she’d been like a tornado efter she’d arrested Wan-bob Broon and the others. Seemingly, resignations amongst the male sergeants and inspectors across the city hid sky-rocketed efter some meeting she’d hid wae aw the polis in the north ae the city across in The Marine. Her reputation hid gone before her like a nippy rash. Aw the uniformed wummin in the force believed that she wis the best thing since sliced breid, so why hid she sacrificed Collette James and the others?

  “Fur the good ae the force, Ah suppose,” Wilma hid mused up in her bedroom. “Ah suppose it’s like drawing a line in the sand. If ye happened tae be wan ae the lucky wans tae be staunin oan wan side as opposed tae the other, then fine. That’s no ma thinking, bit when ye look at whit’s being gaun oan fur so long and it’s you that’s been ordered in tae clean up the mess, then ye hiv tae start somewhere.”

  “Geraldine Baker wance mentioned tae me aboot some quote fae wan ae they famous suffragettes fae back in the day. It wis alang the lines ae that in war, things happen, people suffer…the non-combatants suffer as well as the combatants, so they dae. And so, it happens in civil war. She said that it wis seemingly wan ae Barbara Allen’s maist quoted wan liners, so it wis.”

  “Pish!” Wilma hid scoffed.

  “Aye, seemingly that’s whit poor Collette James hid said as well,” she’d telt the inspector, as the pair ae them hid smiled at each other, before returning tae the figures up oan her bedroom wall.

  Despite the declaration fae Ruby Lips and the shuffling ae the shiny feet roond aboot her, Pearl decided she couldnae gie a fuck. She’d heard enough platitudes oan her travels since starting her short-time job wae The Glesga Echo. She wis sick ae listening tae excuses aboot right and wrang, fae people that should’ve been in the jail, or at the very least, debunked fae their positions a
e power long ago. Cleopatra wisnae her enemy. Cleopatra, and people like her, wur everywan’s enemy. Two wrongs didnae make a right. Ye wur either honest and up front or ye wurnae and nae amount ae excuses could excuse that. The so-called bad boys she knew, like The Mankys, might’ve been crooked charming chancers, bit at least they wur honest aboot it. Despite whit anywan believed, they didnae live their life as a lie. Cross them and ye goat badly burned. Leave them alane and they jist went aboot their merry way. While it wid be hard fur some people, naw, maist people, tae accept something as simple as that, that wis jist the reality ae life in the second city ae the so-called empire. The politicians and the polis spoke aboot a war oan crime, making it sound as if they wur oot there day and night fighting the good fight, like something oot ae a Batman and Robin film. People like The Mankys never declared anything, certainly no a war against anywan. They wur too busy. If they goat caught, ye might hear the cursing, bit ye’d never hear them moaning. They jist seemed tae apply their experience tae no making the same mistake twice. She hidnae caught the rest ae the dialogue gaun oan in the room. It wis the shuffling ae the feet as everywan stood up that alerted her that everywan hid moved oan. She wis glad the meeting wis o’er and done wae. She hid a busy day aheid ae her. She wis moving in tae Senga’s auld bedroom, in the flat she’d shared wae Lizzie Mathieson, across in Barrington Avenue. She couldnae believe how cheap the rent wis. When she’d pressed Lizzie oan it, she’d mysteriously jist smiled and telt her tae speak tae Senga. She liked Lizzie. She wis a bit mad. Mind you, aw the nurses she knew, like Senga, Geraldine, Lizzie and Pat Broon, The Green Lady, aw came across as being slightly aff their heids. She supposed it wis tae dae wae whit they hid tae put up wae oan a daily basis…a coping mechanism.

  “So glad to have met you, Pearl, dear,” Cleopatra said politely, sounding genuinely friendly, that smooth-talking Highland lilt seeping through her lying, ruby wine coloured lips. “And that jacket and skirt…is that genuine Coco Chanel?”