She went home crying and told Johnny. The man was never seen again. He seemed to have dropped off the face of the earth.
On the money front, Johnny had been careful. He had been told all the Asians were placing their money in a Pakistani/Indian bank where they did not ask questions about where the cash came from. It was an ideal place to deposit his ill-gotten gains. When Johnny went to see the Asian bank manager, called Abdul, a fellow in his 40s, he was amused by it all. Abdul spoke in very stilted English. He sat down in the bank’s office, made a cup of Darjeeling tea, and said, “Mr McGrath, we welcome your good business. We are a very good bank, your money safe here. No questions asked, put in as much as you want and take out as much as you wish. Your bank account is a secret with us.”
As a result, Johnny deposited thousands, safe in the knowledge that his account was hidden away from the British authorities. He knew a lot of people took the piss out of the Asians. But he knew another thing. They were not stupid with money, that’s why so many “invested” their cash with this bank. The Asian fellow who ran the local corner shop, who the locals called “John the darkie”, told Johnny, “You put your money in a British bank and the UK authorities can look at it. With the Asian bank they know fuck all.” He took the shopkeeper at his word. After all, he was the only Asian businessmen he knew who drove a Mercedes.
As Archie said, “The Asians come fae little villages in Pakistan and India and live in real poverty, where people are dying of starvation. It makes the poverty in the Gorbals look like paradise. That’s why they are careful wi’ their dough and where they put it.”
Johnny nodded his head in agreement and smiled when he thought of the eccentric Asian bank manager who had a large unsightly wart on his nose. It was certainly not the kind of thing you would see in the Bank of Scotland. Also, you would never find dodgy untraceable accounts there.
He reckoned a lot of the Asian businessmen were crafty bastards, ducking and diving all the time. They succeeded, despite racist attitudes towards them. Archie told him a joke that summed up the racist attitudes they faced: “A guy dies and goes to the gates of Heaven. St Peter said, ‘You can only get in here if you are a good speller. Spell cat.’
The guy replies, ‘C-a-t.’
‘You’re in.’
Another guy turns up. St Peter says, ‘Spell dog.’
‘D-o-g.’
‘You’re in.’
An Asian guy turns up, wearing a turban. St Peter says, ‘Spell… Engelbert Humperdinck.’
Suited and booted and back to work on Monday, Johnny held court with Goo Goo in the lounge of the Mally Arms. He had decided to use it as an informal office so his clients and pals could drop in and see him, usually between one and three in the afternoon. He was still awaiting news from Billy and his cohort Stevie. He wondered whether they had got the money from the Irish labourer Mick.
He didn’t have to wait long. Both of them walked into the lounge looking rather sheepish. Billy had a black eye and Stevie had a plaster on his forehead. Goo Goo looked at them and gave a wry grin, “What the fuck happened to you two?”
Billy found it hard to get the words out of his mouth and left it to sly Stevie to explain the score, “Well, we went into the Seaforth bar on Friday night as we knew Irish Mick would just have been paid. The problem was he was drinking wi’ a mob of his navvy pals. When we asked him for the money he knocked back a large Bushmills whiskey and shouted, ‘You’re getting nothing, so fuck off.’ We were then set about by him and his pals and we got a bit of a hiding.”
Johnny looked incredulous, “Got a hiding fae a bunch of fucking navvies? Where the hell is the money? Ah’m getting fed up wi aw these hard luck stories.” Goo Goo agreed, “Why did you put yourself in that position? You should have waited and banged on his front door in the morning when he had sobered up wi’ a hangover.” Johnny was extremely angry with his so called enforcers, “You two have a lot to learn, you’re a couple of fucking amateurs. Get tae fuck out of ma sight before ah chib the two of you. You useless wankers.” They did as they were told and left as sheepishly as they had come in. Just as they were leaving, wee Alex appeared and his drug overdose had certainly not cured his drug addiction. He looked as high as a kite. He said to Johnny and Goo Goo, “Those two bampots couldnae get money out of a piggy bank. That Irish Mick knows they are a couple of mugs, that’s why he’s bumped you for the money.” Goo Goo said, “So what would you do, Alex?” Alex got straight to the point, “Simple. Set fire tae him. I’ll do it. When he staggers out of the pub drunk, ah’ll pour lighter fuel over him and strike a match. Poof! He’ll be a Donegal ball of flames!” He looked at Johnny, “Do you want me to do it?”
Johnny deliberated for a moment, “Nah, Alex, it’s a very kind offer but ah think we can do it without setting fire to our customers.” He looked at Goo Goo, “You got any suggestions, wee man?”
Goo Goo laughed, “If Alex sets fire to Irish Mick we’ll never get our money back. Leave it to me.” Goo Goo then left the pub looking like a man on a mission. Johnny bought Alex a pint of Tennent’s lager.
Alex said, “How’s Bobby doing?”
“No’ bad Alex, he’s gone into rehab to kick the drugs and all that shite. What about you, you still partaking?”
Alex shrugged his shoulders, “Just a wee bit, no’ as bad as before. A wee bit of hash, a wee bit of Charlie, no heroin anymore. Besides, that Morty fella has disappeared from the scene after you sorted him out. Fucking jelly babies, man!” They both laughed at the ludicrousness of it all. The next day at about the same time, Goo Goo turned up at the Mally pub and put three tenners on the table in front of Johnny.
“What the fuck!” Johnny exclaimed, “Did you get this from Irish Mick?” Goo Goo nodded his head, “Yeah, ah got two of ma Cumbie pals to knock on his door this morning. His missus answered it wearing a green dressing gown. She shouted for him and he came to the door reeking of last night’s booze. Ah stuck the nut on him and he fell inside. Ah broke his nose ah think. A few minutes later, his missus was bawling her eyes out and handed over the cash. So, there it is. There’s nae pain without gain, is there Johnny?”
“Too right,” Johnny replied, “At least we didnae have to set fire to him!”
Goo Goo smiled, “Ah don’t know, maybe Alex was right. A wee fire might have warmed us up in this cold weather!”
Chapter 61
RETURN
Bobby was back. Bobby was back with a vengeance. When he went into the lounge of the Mally one afternoon, he looked like a changed man. A month away had done him the world of good. He had lost nearly two stone in weight as a result of the no booze and drugs regime in rehab. He had also been encouraged to work out as much as possible. So apart from the gym he went for long walks every day, and the weight just fell off him. Three weeks of “fucking torture” then a week with his old pal Pat in Marbella. The sun had given him a glow and with his new image he looked every inch the successful businessman. He had lost the fat, seedy gangster look and adopted a more sophisticated image.
“So, how did it go?” Johnny asked surprised to see him looking so well. He looked ten years younger at least. “It was hard going. I had a craving for cocaine and booze but after a week, the urges went after a bit of cold turkey. Then they had me like a rabbit eating lettuce all the time. Ah’ll tell you what, while ah was in there, ah would have killed for a black pudding supper.” So how did he feel now that he was back in the Gorbals? “Yeah, it’s good to be back. Marbella did the trick, didnae touch the booze though. Pat thought ah was boring. But fuck him, ah’ve had enough cocaine and booze tae last me a lifetime, maybe two lifetimes.”
Johnny noticed straight away that his pal and boss was ten times sharper and leaner than when he had been on the drugs, he had got his mojo back. The spell in rehab, like the time he had spent in Borstal years before, had given him a short, sharp shock. Johnny informed him that things were going well with considerable profits being made. He said sales of Charlie and hash were “going th
rough the roof” but was unsure of how much they were making as it was all in the hands of Percy. Bobby listened carefully but his newly acquired sharp mind could detect a major flaw in the feedback, “Have we got a copy of the drug account books?” he asked. Johnny replied, “Nah, Percy keeps the accounts close to his chest, except to say that profit and turnover are exceptional.” “Exceptional?” Bobby said, “Well ah want tae see how exceptional our business is.” He looked at Goo Goo and said, “Hey young fella, go and find where Percy is and bring him here. We need a meeting straight away.”
Goo Goo left the pub and headed into his car to where he believed Percy was, a nearby tenement flat which he used as his office. Bobby looked at Johnny and said, “What dae you think of that Percy fella? Can we trust him?” It was evident that the spell in rehab had certainly made Bobby more smart and streetwise. His intuition had come back thanks to his sobriety. Johnny was diplomatic, “Percy is his own man. He handles all the drug accounts but it widnae do any harm to look at the books.” “Good idea,” Bobby said, “That’s exactly what ah was thinking.” Bobby bought a large glass of Barr’s ginger beer and took a gulp, “Ah, lovely stuff. Better than the booze and Charlie and it disnae fuck up your mind or land you in rehab or jail.” They had a general chat about things, mostly family stuff and Bobby told him he was proud of his grandson and Cathy who had turned out to be a good, loving mother. Johnny felt the same and a mellowness came over him. If one thing made him feel soft was talk of his family. Family was everything, a great buzz to talk about. A far better buzz than taking cocaine or indulging in binge drinking. The mellowness also hit Bobby hard, “Johnny, you and I might be business partners but don’t forget you are family and that’s all that matters. Never mind the betting, the money lending, the protection rackets and the drugs. Nothing can compare to having a family.” Johnny was lost for words, the sentiment had got to him. He agreed wholeheartedly with the sentiments.
he mellowness between the two men evaporated when Goo Goo and Percy entered the lounge bar.
Bobby rose to meet Percy, shouting, “Hey, ya auld bastard. How’s business been while ah was away? Fancy a wee drink tae celebrate ma new found freedom?”
Percy sat down and looked nervous as if he was concealing something. Both Bobby and Johnny could detect this straight away, but hid it well. Percy said smiling with his yellow teeth, “I’ll have a large brandy, if I may.” Bobby smirked, “Large brandy! Ah told you Johnny, this man has class. He’s a man of education, no’ like us two half educated slum Glaswegians!”He went to the bar and brought the large brandy over,
“Got you the best Percy, old chap. Napoleon brandy, strictly for the toffs!” Percy gave a weak smile and sipped the brandy slowly. Bobby was in a mischievous mood, “So Percy, old chap. How is the Charlie and hash side of the business?” “Oh, very good. We are turning over a significant profit up there with the other sides of the business.” Bobby gave him a slap on the back. It was intended to look friendly but Johnny could detect there was a hint of nastiness about it.
Percy continued, “I see the month away has done you the world of good. It’s great to see you back where you should be – at the helm of it all.”
Bobby smiled but was not taken in by the false flattery, “Aye, a wee rest has put me back on the ball. Now, you know what we want to see, Percy?
“What’s that, boss?” Percy said nervously.
“The books, the fucking books which show how much is coming in and going out.” Percy suddenly put on a show of bravado but Bobby and Johnny could detect it was bullshit bravado. They could see Percy’s lips had begun to quiver. “Well, Bobby I don’t keep books as such, just general figures. We must be careful that the police have no evidence about what we are doing.” Bobby nodded his head in fake agreement “I understand all this Percy, old chap. But you’ve got to knock together some figures that ah can understand. As far as I am concerned two plus two equals four, it’s as simple as that… old chap.” Johnny was amused that Bobby was using the “old chap” patter as a form of intimidation. Suddenly, Percy looked peeved and rose from the table, “Look, boss, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll have some figures for you tomorrow. Thanks for the excellent brandy, it’s my favourite.” Bobby told Goo Goo to run Percy back to his tenement office.
After they left, Bobby said to Johnny, “Ah can detect a lie like a fart in a car. That guy is hiding something. What do you think?” “You might be right Bobby,” Johnny said, “But we’ll see tomorrow when he has the figures for us.” The next day, Bobby, Johnny, Goo Goo and Archie assembled at Percy’s office. He put a large black accounts ledger on the kitchen table saying, “There you are, here are the figures you were asking for. I was working all night on them.”
Bobby opened the ledger and glanced at the figures, it was all gobbledegook to a slum boy like him. He scanned the 100 pages or so, jam packed with numbers, but to him it was merely a foreign language. As he glanced through the audit book, he put on a pretence saying, “Looks very impressive, Percy, old chap. You’ve obviously done a good job when I was away. Well done, old chap.”
Percy was becoming increasingly irritated with the “old chap” patter but it had served its intended purpose. It had made him nervous and paranoid, thinking his boss had something on him. He put on a brave façade, “Thank you, boss, all in the line of duty. I think all these figures, and I am not being cheeky, will make no sense to a layman like you.” Bobby felt slightly miffed at being called “a layman.” He realised Percy was using the same psychology on him as he had with the “old chap” patter. Bobby picked up the audit book, “Percy, old chap, ah’m going to take this home with me.”
The accountant looked agitated, “What for, boss?”
“Oh, just to put under ma pillow so ah’ll have sweet dreams about how much money we are making.”
Percy’s lips began to quiver again but he grinned with his yellow teeth, “It’s certainly an unusual request but I suppose there is no harm in you taking the book back home with you for the night. As long as I can have it back in the morning. I need it for the good of the business.” Bobby laughed out loud, “No problemo, old chap. You’ll have the book back, wi’ all the complicated figures, first thing in the morning.” He slapped Percy on the back and bade him farewell.
When they got into the car Bobby said to Johnny, “Ah don’t understand all these accounts, who do you think we should get to have a look at them? It must be somebody good with figures.” Johnny said the obvious candidate was Kenny, as he was a whiz kid with numbers as he had proved on the betting side.
Goo Goo was told to fetch Kenny, who arrived at Bobby’s flat about an hour later. “Take a look at these accounts and tell me what they mean,” Bobby told him.
Kenny sat down at a table and studied the accounts book for almost two hours while Bobby and Johnny waited in the living room. Clutching the book, Kenny walked into see them. Bobby said, “What’s the verdict Kenny boy, good or bad?” “Bad,” said Kenny, “That Percy is a fly bastard. Do you want to hear the good news or bad news first?” Bobby looked slightly angry but covered it well. Give us the good news first, Kenny boy.”
“The good news is the accounts are very professionally done, hundreds of complicated figures, but the bad news is no matter how many figures there are, it’s clear Percy has bumped you for ten grand, at least.” Although they had suspected something, both Bobby and Johnny were taken aback. Bobby exclaimed, “What, you mean the posh fucker has robbed me?”
“Aye ten grand at least is missing, could be more, but he’s hidden the figures in such a way that it’s hard to detect.” Bobby’s face turned red with rage, “Ah knew that Percy bastard was up to no good. We’ll have a meeting with him in the morning.”
“Aye, too right,” Johnny said, “Ye can’t con a con man. Especially a Gorbals con man like you.” He and his comrades made their excuses and left.
Tomorrow was another day, a day of vengeance.
Chapter 62
BOMBAY
He pondered the Percy situation. There was no doubt he was going to get beaten up, but he would take no part in the beating. He had calculated that punishing Percy would be a bad idea as the accountant knew too much about the organisation. Any beating may send him into the arms of the police, and he could testify with enough evidence to have them all sent down for years. No, the best idea was to let the others inflict the beating, but he would have no hand in it. Besides, he believed that if he showed Percy some degree of mercy, the accountant might in turn exclude him from any revelations to the police. It was a gamble, but a gamble well worth taking. Sitting on the bench, he had a deep think about Percy. He wasn’t that bad a guy, even with his dreadful yellow teeth. At times the accountant had even made him laugh out loud, with some of the comments he made.
The Incredible Rise of a Gorbals Gangster Page 33
