Terms of Restitution

by Denzil Meyrick

  ‘That’s even worse! She’s a bad-tempered old bastard.’

  Gillian laughed. ‘Why do you think I met you here?’

  Finn shrugged. ‘I dunno. Why?’

  ‘The Grumpy Monkey.’

  ‘I see. Okay, you win. I’ll have an espresso, a cheese and ham toastie and a slice of coffee cake.’

  ‘You’re an expensive date!’

  ‘You offered.’

  He watched as his daughter walked to the counter and placed the order. Of all his children, she most resembled Danny in looks, but her character was the polar opposite. She’d always been a sweet, happy child, while his dead son had been turbulent and difficult from birth.

  She sat back down. ‘I heard something on the news, Dad.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ said Finn, pretending not to know what she was about to say.

  ‘Dusky. He got shot. He’s dead.’

  ‘I know, it’s really sad. But you know the life he led.’

  ‘Like yours, you mean?’

  ‘No, not like mine.’ He shook his head. ‘You know that I’m not part of that any more. Now I know why you wanted to meet me in public, not the house.’

  Gillian looked unconvinced. ‘That’s not the reason.’ She held out her hand and grabbed his. ‘Well, maybe in a way it is.’

  Finn looked into her green eyes. It was like a mirror, sometimes comforting, now disconcerting. ‘If it’s about your mother, I’ll make sure she’s okay. She’s already at the house in Howwood. It’s been empty for two months, apparently.’

  ‘I’m not worried about her.’ Suddenly Gillian looked disgusted.

  ‘She’s your mum, remember. Whatever happens between her and I, that won’t change.’

  She gripped his hand more tightly. ‘I know what she’s been doing, Dad. Her affairs. It’s disgusting.’

  ‘She thought I was dead.’

  ‘She was at it long before you left. I’m not stupid.’

  He sighed. ‘Our marriage has been over for a long time. Don’t blame her. The thing with Danny hit us all hard. It gets to you in different ways, you know?’

  ‘I guess so.’ She paused. ‘I need to tell you something.’ Her face was now pale and serious.

  All of a sudden the bottom fell out of Zander Finn’s world. It was the same feeling he’d had when he’d been told about Danny’s murder. ‘You’re sick. I knew it! Look, there’s nothing of you.’

  ‘I’m not ill, just a bit stressed with the course. I should eat more.’

  ‘Yes, you should!’ he agreed enthusiastically.

  ‘I have something to tell you. Please don’t make a fuss.’

  Finn stared at his daughter. ‘Well, go on. Let’s get this over with.’

  ‘I’m seeing someone.’

  Finn sat back in his chair. ‘Not another one of Mannion’s sons! Don’t tell me that.’

  ‘No, but you’ve met this person.’

  Finn thought hard. ‘If it’s one of Danny’s old pals, I wouldn’t recommend it.’

  ‘The ones that aren’t dead, you mean?’ She stopped. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.’

  ‘No, it’s true.’ Finn swallowed back the emotion.

  ‘I’m seeing Kirsty. You met her when we were with Robbie.’

  It took Finn a moment to process this information. ‘So, you’re gay?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She pushed her hair back off her brow.

  ‘Well, you’re either gay or you’re not. If you’re seeing a girl – like that, I mean – it’s pretty straightforward, no?’

  ‘I still fancy boys.’

  ‘That’ll be your mother in you.’ He laughed.

  She stared at him. ‘You mean, you’re not bothered about it?’

  He leaned across the table and touched her face. ‘Of course not! What do you think I am? I just want you to be happy. Life is for living. Just be yourself, whatever that is.’

  At this, their order arrived.

  ‘Dad, you never stop surprising me, do you know that?’

  ‘I’m not sure how your Uncle Malky would have reacted if it was Jenny.’

  ‘Oh, I dread to think.’ She laughed.

  ‘Right, if that’s the big revelation over, I want you to eat half of this toastie.’

  ‘You know, I’m actually quite hungry now.’ She reached over to his plate.

  ‘I don’t suppose you’ve told your gran.’

  ‘No, I was kind of hoping you would.’

  ‘Oh great, egg, chips and beans for two and a flea in my ear into the bargain.’ Father and daughter laughed together.

  Outside, the sky was getting darker.

  24

  Malky Maloney had woken in a bad mood. His night had been restless, plagued by dreams of Dusky.

  Dusky was impetuous, that he knew. He’d always been the one most likely to land them in trouble. But he was also a fine man to have at your back. On more than one occasion, especially in their youth, Dusky had saved him from a beating, or a knife in the ribs.

  Zander had ordered it, so it had to be done. But the results still sickened him.

  For a moment, he wondered if he’d made the right decision in bringing his old friend back from ‘dead’. But under the circumstances he knew he’d had little choice. They were slowly being enveloped by Glasgow; consumed, as though by some terrible wasting disease prompted by a host parasite. But he was still in an awkward position. After all, everyone had to swim to survive. He’d seen that shit on nature documentaries. In turn, Mannion’s empire was being eaten away by the faceless Albanians. It was the law of the jungle.

  Malky Maloney couldn’t think about Joe Mannion now. Though he knew for a fact that Dusky had become involved with the man. It was Senga who had driven him away – she’d driven everyone away.

  Maloney knew the nature of his best friend, Zander Finn. When he thought about it, he’d always known there would be a reckoning, on his return. And he knew it wouldn’t end with Dusky’s death. There was more to come, of that he was sure.

  ‘Mandy! Where’s they scants I like?’

  He listened to his wife’s distant reply and located his underpants in the appropriate drawer. He pulled on his jeans, sucking in his stomach in order to get them buttoned below his waist, pulled on a heavy jumper, thick socks and then his boots. It was cold, and the man who’d once worn a T-shirt to show off his muscles in all weather now hid his middle-age spread under as many layers as he could.

  Dressed, he thudded down the stairs, almost trampling over their cleaner, who was bent over the vacuum, wrestling with an over-full bag.

  ‘Murder they things, eh, Dina?’

  ‘They sure are. Especially this bastard!’

  ‘I’ll get Mandy. She used to work in the Hoover factory before we got married.

  ‘That’s before all this went space-aged, Malky.’

  ‘It’s near before they invented the fucking wheel!’

  He left his cleaner laughing as he went in search of his wife. He found Mandy in their big kitchen, baking furiously.

  ‘That’s enough to feed an army. Have you started your own catering company?’

  ‘It’s for these poor weans in Africa – Gambia, you know?’

  Maloney scratched his head. ‘It’s rice and stuff they need, dear, not cupcakes.’

  ‘Aye, that’s me baking cupcakes to send over to the starving children. I thought they’d like a treat.’

  Maloney shrugged. ‘You’ve always had a big heart, darlin’.’

  ‘It’s for a coffee morning down the community centre tomorrow! Do you really think I’m going to send these off to Gambia? We’re raising money for the kids.’ She raised her eyes. ‘Sometimes I wonder if you’re living in the same world as the rest of us.’

  ‘Ach, you never make yourself clear enough. It’s like fighting a snake in the dark.’

  ‘I’ll snake you!’ She chased him round the kitchen with a handful of flour.

  Malky grabbed her round the waist. ‘Listen, I need to go. D
o you need me to bring anything back later, shopping or whatever?’

  She looked into his pale blue eyes for a moment, the expression on her face suddenly serious.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I’ve been thinking about what happened to Dusky.’

  Maloney hugged her, whispering into her ear. ‘You know what the big fella was like. He was careless, hot-headed. You mind he was never out of the jail when we was kids.’

  ‘He didn’t deserve two bullets.’

  ‘Listen, I don’t know. I’ve not seen much of him recently.’ Though Maloney was determined not to show it, his feelings of guilt were beginning to constrict his throat.

  ‘And what about your lord and master, eh? I hear he flung Senga out of the palace.’

  ‘She’s hardly on the bones of her arse, is she? That house in Howwood is big enough for a family of twelve.’

  ‘Still and all, he comes back, out of the blue, and everything starts to happen. No coincidence, is it?’

  Malky kissed her on the forehead. ‘You know how things are now. We’re into the pubs and clubs. It’s all legitimate – has been for yonks. In fact, I’m off to meet some guy that wants to sell me a hotel in Dumbarton. What do you think of that? Us in the hotel business, eh?’

  ‘Okay, Rocco Forte. If you can, bring home some steak from Tulloch’s and we’ll have it for dinner. You can’t beat their sirloin, so you can’t.’

  ‘A wee bottle of red to wash it down, eh?’ He fluttered his eyelashes teasingly.

  ‘Huh! I’ll be too knackered after all this baking for any bedroom gymnastics, you bugger!’ She rubbed flour in his face.

  ‘Only on my birthday these days, honey.’

  ‘Aye, if you’re lucky.’ She wiped the flour from his face and kissed him on the cheek. ‘Good luck with the hotel.’

  ‘We’ll see. I’ve never heard of this guy, so I don’t know how it will go. Could be a pig in a poke.’ He heard loud music burst into life upstairs. ‘What’s m’lady up to today?’

  ‘Jenny? What do you think? Lying in her bed all day listening to that racket, or sitting glued to thon Netflix. Then she’s off out tonight – again!’

  ‘She’s young. You know what we was like, Mandy.’

  ‘We had jobs – well, you sort of had.’

  ‘Hey, have I not brought you riches beyond the dreams of avarice?’

  ‘Aye, so you have.’

  ‘Listen, if this hotel thing comes off, I’ll get her in there. You know, get some bugger to show her the ropes then she can manage the place, like.’

  ‘Good luck with that!’

  ‘I’d rather she was a healthy, happy lassie than cloaking about like Gillian Finn. She’s like the walking dead. I got a shock when I saw her.’

  ‘You need to be thin to be an actress, Malky.’

  ‘She could do with some of those cupcakes.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Here, I better get going.’

  As he was leaving the kitchen, she called to him. ‘Maybe get a bottle of red, right enough.’ Mandy winked.

  ‘Yes, on a promise!’ He smiled. ‘After last night, I just had a feeling today was going to be a good one.’ Maloney hurried off.

  When he pulled the front door of his home he stopped, looking across at the view of Kelburne Cricket Club’s ground. The air was cold but sweet. Though he could no longer smell the smoke from thousands of fireplaces, winter was certainly in the air; his favourite time of year. This day did feel different. Bit like the day you were off on holiday, he thought.

  *

  The Marston hotel looked in reasonably good nick. The windows were boarded up, but roof looked sound enough to Maloney’s untrained eye. Though he could see some water damage from broken guttering down one gable end. A dark stain was slathered down the white walls. But that was minor stuff.

  When he walked round the front of the building the view was, to say the least, impressive. To his right, Dumbarton Rock loomed. It still guarded the estuary to the Firth of Clyde and the city of Glasgow beyond. He remembered the history he’d been taught in school: everyone from the Romans and ancient Britons to the Vikings had occupied the fortress on the rock at one time or other.

  He could hear the broad Clyde make its way to the sea. Seagulls squawked overhead, and the tang on the air made him feel even more like going on holiday. This was a great spot. Depending what he found inside, this could make for a superb location to do something special.

  ‘Mr Maloney?’ He heard a woman’s voice and turned towards it. She was tall, dark-haired and well turned out. A typical estate agent, he reasoned. Now for the hard sell, he thought.

  ‘I’m Grace Turner, pleased to meet you.’ She held out a delicate hand and shook his.

  ‘How are you doing? I’m Malky Maloney.’ He turned back to face the Clyde. ‘Brillant place to have a hotel, eh?’

  ‘Oh yes, just beautiful. You can imagine how lovely it is on a nice day in the summer.’

  ‘What happened to the previous owners? Be hard not to make something of this.’

  ‘Oh, they are over-extended at the bank, I think. Took on too much. I suppose you’ll know all about that, having been in business for so long.’

  ‘Aye, a fair bit about it, that’s for sure. Folk think running bars, clubs and hotels is easy, especially if they’ve no experience in the game. They associate them with good times. You know, getting pissed and all that. It’s not as easy as you think. Even in a place like this.’

  ‘Right, then. Would you like to have a look inside?’

  ‘Aye, sure, lead on. Hope you’ve got a torch!’

  ‘I think they have temporary lighting in place. We should be okay.’

  ‘Brilliant!’

  Grace Turner produced a set of keys from her handbag and they headed towards the main entrance of the hotel.

  It was dark. Despite Grace’s continued attempts to find the emergency lighting with the aid of the torch on Maloney’s phone, she seemed to be making little progress.

  ‘Listen, Mr Maloney, I’ll need to go back out to the car. I’ve a big LED lantern there for just this kind of situation. I’ll be back in two ticks. I’m so sorry about this. I’ll call the owners if we can’t get this temporary lighting on. You sometimes wonder what people expect from estate agents.’

  ‘A hefty percentage, in my experience. No offence, like.’

  ‘None taken.’

  He watched her disappear in a shaft of light through the front door as he continued to look around by the dim light from his phone.

  Maloney walked from the reception through swing doors into a much larger space. A bar, he supposed. Sure enough, to his right were beer fonts in front of a gantry, empty, save for a few bottles of spirits with dribbles of liquor in them.

  The whole place smelled musty. But he’d been in many places like this. They always looked like lost causes until the workmen had been in; new paint on the walls and bright lights transformed them into small goldmines. If you knew what you were doing, that was.

  Talking of light, he heard movement from behind and turned round, expecting to see Grace, the estate agent, back with the lantern. ‘Let’s get some light on the subject, eh?’ said Maloney, though he couldn’t see her. ‘I’m in the bar, just through the swing doors.’

  Two things happened at once. Suddenly a bright light shone in his eyes. He was about to protest when he was hit hard on the back of the head, sending him spiralling into darkness.

  25

  Zander Finn was in his office at Chancellor Fabrications. He’d arranged to meet Malky and Donald Paton to discuss contracts they were bidding for with Glasgow City Council. It was for fencing surrounding a park and, with the mark-up, would likely bring in a pretty penny, legitimate cash.

  Paton was reading through their proposed method statement, making sure everything was in order before submitting the bid. ‘I assume it’s the usual arrangement?’

  ‘What arrangement?’ Finn replied.

  ‘With MacConachie. He’s still our man o
ver at Darnick Street.’

  ‘That’s Malky’s department. He was supposed to be here about half an hour ago.’ Finn lifted the mobile phone to his ear.

  ‘This phone is switched off. Please try later, or send a text.’

  Finn threw his mobile onto a bundle of papers on his desk. ‘Bugger’s phone has been off for the last two hours.’

  ‘Not like Malky. He spends half his life on that bloody thing.’

  ‘Have you even got one yet?’

  Paton raised his eyes to the ceiling. ‘Yes, I have a mobile phone. But I use it for three things only.’

  ‘Which are?’

  ‘Phoning people, answering bloody emails and finding my way about in Glasgow.’

  ‘Eh? Surely you know Glasgow like the back of your hand.’

  ‘Did know it, you mean. When’s the last time you were up in the Townhead?’

  Finn shrugged. ‘A good while ago. Why?’

  ‘Well, get up there and tell me you have any idea where you’re going. Nothing left of Parliamentary Road, never mind Swann Street.’

  ‘Progress, Donnie.’

  ‘So they say. My brother used to live up in the high flats in Kennedy Path, remember?’

  ‘Aye, vaguely.’

  ‘We used to go to the Hurdy Gurdy – opposite the Royal Infirmary.’

  ‘That’s ancient history.’

  ‘Yes, but it was still a good boozer.’

  ‘Things change, you know that.’

  ‘Rarely for the better, in my opinion.’ Paton turned his attention back to the proposal.

  Finn was back on the phone. ‘Hi, Mandy, how are you?’

  ‘Well . . . a voice from the past,’ Mandy Maloney replied. ‘I haven’t seen you since – well, since you came back.’ She was going to say back from the dead, before remembering the last time she’d seen Finn was at Danny’s funeral.

  ‘We’ll need to go out for a meal. Tell when you’re free. Talking of free meals, have you any idea where that husband of yours is?’

  Mandy paused, clearly puzzled. ‘He was off to see some hotel in Dumbarton, last time I heard.’

  ‘Hotel? He never mentioned it.’

  ‘I think he just got the call about it yesterday. The place is closed. I think the owners are looking for a quick deal.’