Dumfries

by Todd, Ian

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

  The Prime Minister, Edward Heath, informed Cathcart MP, Mr Teddy Taylor in a letter received today, that he is considering moving up to 3,000 civil service jobs north to Scotland…

  Police from Liverpool arrived in Glasgow last night to try and establish how the body of well-known Glasgow drug dealer, Anthony Charles, came to be discovered, entombed in the remains of a car that had been crushed by an industrial car crusher on a boat in Liverpool’s docks, bound for a smelter plant in Belgium. Mr Charles’s body was discovered after dock workers loading the vessel with the crushed car blocks were alerted by the foul smell. On further investigation, Liverpool police discovered Mr Charles’s body along with another unidentified male, who appeared to be in his thirties, in what had been the boot of a 1969 Ford Cortina. It is understood from forensic scientists that both men appeared to have been tortured and their hands tied behind their backs before the vehicle was crushed. Police are checking scrap dealers in and around Glasgow who operate car crushing machines…

  Glasgow City’s Lord Provost, Jimmy Calderwood and Councillor Ron Booker, Chairman of the tourist committee have released the results of a major survey carried out in the city by tourist bosses over the past two years which reveals that visitors believe that Glasgow is tops for attractions and one of the safest cities in Europe to visit…

  A nineteen-year-old-youth was stabbed to death in a gang fight on the corner of Bilsland Drive and Balmore Road last night. Local Police Inspector, Duggie Dougan has appealed for any witnesses who were in the vicinity of the area to call…

  Eighteen-year-old Paul James and nineteen-year-old Peter Ford have been given a life sentence by Lord Campbell of Claremyle, at the city’s High Court today, after stabbing another youth to death in an unprovoked attack in front of his grandmother on Springburn Road in March of this year…”

  Chapter Twenty Three

  So, this wis Dumfries, Johnboy wis thinking tae himsel as he bobbed through the ground flair ae B-Hall, lying stretched oot oan tap ae a stretcher, as the two struggling YOs, escorted by a screw wae a limp, struggled tae keep him upright. He felt seasick. The place reminded Johnboy ae the assessment hall in Polmont, back in 1971…red lino oan the flair, strong smell ae flair polish, wooden varnished railings running roond the two-storey gantries above him, cell doors aw the way roond and a dirty, frosted wired-glass-covered roof, towering above the hall tae let in the natural light. Fae where he wis lying, he could make oot the webbed feet ae a pair ae seagulls trying tae keep their grip oan the glass, as they slid doon wan ae the dirty panels. He could make oot their wings flapping like the clappers tae help wae their balance. He mentally placed a bet wae himsel, picking the seagull nearest tae the bottom ae the slope tae find its feet first, jist before its mate, higher up, flopped oan tae its chest and slid by Johnboy’s chosen wan and disappeared oot ae sight. He wis chuffed wae his choice and hoped that this wis a sign that his luck wis changing fur the better. He’d jist been looking fae left tae right, wondering whit cell he wid be getting allocated, when the YO in front ae him, at his feet end, started tae descend doon some steps underneath the white painted steel frames ae the stairs leading up tae the galleries. He quickly clasped the side’s ae the stretcher tae stoap that arse ae his sliding forward. Beyond the landing stairs, he jist managed tae clock two glass doors wae a snooker table covered in a white sheet beyond them before he disappeared doon intae the bowels ae the hall. At the bottom ae the steps, another lazy basturt ae a screw wis haudin up the building wae his shoulder blades, chewing gum, patiently waiting, haudin the steel-barred gate ajar wae his left leg, as Johnboy wis stretchered through. The décor mirrored the ground flair ae the hall he’d jist descended fae, except fur the disappearance ae any natural light. Before being dumped intae his cell, Johnboy managed tae clock the names oan the cards that wur sitting in their wee slots oan the other cell doors that hid mattresses, blankets and pillows sitting oan wee wooden pallets ootside ae them. The screw and the stretcher-bearing YOs hidnae hung aboot either. Wance Johnboy wis gently tipped aff ae the stretcher oan tae the horse hair mattress that wis sitting oan tap ae the oblong concrete plinth oan the flair, silence descended, apart fae the hum ae a generator somewhere in the distance.

  “Tony? Tony, ur ye there?” Johnboy shouted in a whisper, a few minutes efter the noise ae the feet hid disappeared heavenwards.

  “Johnboy, is that you?” Snappy shouted back.

  “Aye.”

  “When did ye arrive in Dumfries then?” Tony asked fae the cell opposite, surprise in his voice.

  “Aboot five minutes ago.”

  “Fuck, Ah thought Silent’s record ae making it doon here in an hour wis something,” Snappy said, laughing.

  “Aye?” Johnboy asked, grinning tae himsel.

  “Yer feet could hardly hiv touched the ground. Nice wan,” Tony acknowledged.

  “Aye, well, it’s funny ye should say that. The dirty basturts carted me doon here oan a bloody stretcher,” Johnboy said, tae mair laughter.

  “So, where’s Pat then?” Johnboy asked.

  “Ah’m here. Ah’m sitting oan ma chanty in the corner, gieing it a late breakfast, so Ah am. Ah don’t know whit’s the smelliest, the chanty itsel or that arse ae mine feeding it,” Pat grunted.

  “Christ, so, we’re aw in the digger then?” Johnboy exclaimed.

  “Never mind aboot that, whit aboot yersel? How ur ye daeing then?” Tony asked.

  “Aye, no bad. Ah goat the stiches oot oan ma heid and ma ribs and erm ur still strapped up. Ah’m still pishing blood every noo and again.”

  “Basturts!” Snappy growled.

  “Whit aboot youse then?” Johnboy asked, trying tae get comfortable oan the lumpy mattress withoot daeing himsel further damage.

  “Silent gied The Governor a bit ae lip efter he arrived and they dumped him doon here fur his cheek. Ah went and spoke tae The Governor tae find oot whit the score wis and the mad fucker slung ma arse doon here as well. The stupid basturt claimed Ah threatened the staff and the good order ae his establishment. Ah’d watch whit ye say tae him when ye meet him. He’s a sensitive fucker, so he is,” Tony replied, chortling.

  “So, how long ur youse doon here fur then?”

  “Who knows. Me, Pat and Silent hiv been doon here fur nearly three weeks…Ah think. We’re oan rule thirty six, so we ur,” Tony replied.

  “Rule thirty six? Whit the hell’s rule thirty six?”

  “Rule thirty six is when they kin sling yer arse in the digger fur as long as they want, twenty four hours a day, if they think ye’re up tae nae good or cannae be trusted tae behave yersel,” Pat volunteered.

  “And whit aboot you, Snappy. Ur ye oan rule thirty six as well?” Johnboy asked.

  “Me? Naw, naw, they’ve goat me doon here oan rule thirty nine, so they hiv.”

  “Ur youse taking the mickey oot ae me?” Johnboy asked, as the sound ae cackling laughter echoed aroond the dungeons ae the digger.

  “Ah wis accused ae punching wan ae the screws, a pathetic basturt called The Tormentor, who’d attacked Silent efter gieing The Governor a bit ae cheek…even though Ah’m innocent ae aw charges. That wis aboot two weeks ago,” Snappy said, slipping in the innocent part quickly.

  “Aye, watch whit ye’re saying, Johnboy. We’ve goat a stoat-the–baw doon here amongst us, so we hiv,” Pat warned, before Johnboy could reply tae Snappy.

  “Okay, Ah gie in. So, whit the fuck is rule thirty nine then?”

  “Well, while they tadgers ur deemed ‘undisciplined and no conducive tae good order,’ Ah’m whit they call a prisoner who’s awready been convicted ae daeing time, bit separately charged wae an assault, so they’ve goat me marked doon as an untried, convicted loser, so they hiv. That means Ah’m doon here as a rule thirty-niner. Special as fuck, eh?” Snappy snorted.

  “So, whit aboot yersel then, Johnboy?”

  “Ah’m no sure. Nowan his
telt me anything. Ah’ve jist arrived, efter lying stretched oot oan tap ae a stretcher oan the flair ae the van, straight fae Monklands General in Airdrie. Ah thought Ah wis being transferred back up tae Longriggend.”

  “Oh, well, ye’re probably oan rule sixty nine then,” Snappy volunteered.

  “Sixty nine? Whit the fuck’s that?” Johnboy asked, frowning, as he looked across at the steel, studded cell door.

  “You suck and Silent’ll lick,” Pat replied tae guffaws fae the others.

  “Is that that fucking wanker ae a stoat-the-baw hivving the cheek tae join in in oor wee banter that Ah hear? Hoi, ya bloody stinking pervert, ye, if Ah hear ye laughing or lugging in tae oor conversation again, ye’ll be feeding oan yer ain baws when Ah get oot ae here, so ye will, ya prick ye,” Snappy snarled tae the faceless stoat-the-baw.

  “Who is he?” Johnboy asked.

  “Ye’ve heard ae Robert The Bruce, the ex-king fae Stirling, who fucked the English at the Battle ae Bannockburn, hiven’t ye?” Tony asked Johnboy.

  “Er, aye.”

  “Well, we’ve goat Robert The Beast fae Stirling doon here wae us who fucked a crisp poke. It wis that basturt who snatched that wee school lassie last year. Remember?”

  “Naw.”

  “Ye dae…it wis in aw the papers, so it wis. They never found her body, so they didnae. Well, it wis him that did the dirty, so it wis. He’s called King Beast in here. He’s well-protected, so he is, the prick. Nowan kin get their paws oan him.”

  “Is that why he’s doon here then, under protection?” Johnboy wondered.

  “Naw, Ah’ve jist telt ye, Johnboy. Oan ye go, Snappy, tell Johnboy whit Robert, King ae the Beasts goat caught daeing.”

  “He goat seven days in the digger fur getting caught shagging an empty Golden Wonder crisp packet, so he did,” Snappy assured him, as Johnboy joined in wae the laughter.

  “Fuck aff,” Johnboy eventually grunted.

  “Ah’m telling ye. Wan ae the screws unlocked his door swiftly and caught the perverted basturt staunin there bare-arsed wae his blankets folded intae a block oan tap ae his locker wae an empty crisp packet stuck in the middle ae the folds ae them. He’d splodged the inside ae the packet wae wet soapy shaving lather before gieing it big licks wae that dick ae his. Ah heard the screw saying that that spotty arse ae his wis gaun like the clappers as his hauns wur pressing doon oan the blankets tae maximise the friction fae the Golden Wonder packet.”

  “Did he manage tae cum?” Johnboy asked, as everywan hooted.

  “Ah don’t know aboot that, bit he certainly shot his bolt doon here fast enough,” Snappy said, tae mair laughter.

  “So, whit’s the score wae you and that Baxter wan ye attacked, Johnboy?” Tony asked him.

  “Ah’m no sure. The basturt kept eyeballing me every time ma door wis opened up. There wis nae way Ah wis gonnae let him get in there first. Christ, Ah don’t even know the prick,” Johnboy said, feeling a twinge ae pain oan his scalp where the wee sexy nurse hid taken oot his stitches a week earlier.

  “So, ye still don’t know who he is then?”

  “Naw, should Ah?”

  “Snappy, tell him,” Tony said.

  “Dae ye remember when ye wur up at the High Court and ye telt us that The Crown mentioned tae Lord Santa Claus that somewan hid awready been sentenced tae nine years fur the bank job?” Snappy asked him.

  “Ah’m listening,” Johnboy replied, ears pricking up.

  “Aye, well, he’s yer man, so he is.”

  “Whit wis that? Hing oan a minute. Ur ye trying tae tell me that Baxter’s the wan that goat sentenced tae nine years fur the bank job up in Maryhill…oor bank?”

  “Aye, how’s that fur bad luck, eh?” Snappy replied.

  “And wis he involved? Is there any mair shite aboot whit happened in the bank that Ah should know aboot?” Johnboy asked, bewildered and confused.

  “No that Ah’m aware ae,” Tony replied.

  Johnboy lay back oan his pillow as the banter continued amongst the other Mankys. How the hell hid he no made the connection between The Scowler and this James Baxter being wan and the same person in Longriggend? If Baxter wis the wan that hid been convicted fur the Maryhill bank job, then why the hell wis he up in an untried nick like Longriggend? Whit the hell wis gaun oan? He’d wanted tae grill Tony aboot it, bit he’d hiv tae watch whit he wis saying because ae the stoat-the-baw, lugging in tae whit wis being said. Why did Graham Portoy no make mair ae it efter The Crown hid telt Lord Hee-Haw that somewan else hid awready been sent doon fur being involved in the robbery? Fur Johnboy, it aw made sense noo. The Scowler hid obviously been taking his bad luck oot oan him and Silent, which wis understandable. Well, fuck him, it wisnae Johnboy’s fault that he’d been sent doon fur a crime he hidnae committed. He wisnae the only innocent basturt hinging aboot the place, Johnboy telt himsel, gently easing his hauns behind his neck tae get comfortable. Johnboy wid see whit the scowling bam wanted tae dae aboot it wance he managed tae get himsel oot ae the digger and up tae full fitness. He’d enough oan his plate tae be getting oan wae. He couldnae stop fae smiling. If there wis anywan in the whole world that he couldnae imagine lying in a digger, it wid’ve been Pat McCabe. Johnboy wondered whit hid brought him doon tae the digger. He wanted tae shout across and ask Pat, bit his eyelids felt heavy and he found it hard tae keep them open. The wee nurse at the hospital hid confirmed whit the doctor hid said in that his tiredness and heidache’s wid probably keep coming and gaun fur a while yet before it goat better.

  “It’s jist yer body’s way ae healing itself,” she’d explained.

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

  Scottish Prison Officer’s Association Chairman, Mike Johnston, has caused outrage in legal circles by demanding that the Secretary of State for Scotland sack Lord Berwick after his lordship asked for a public enquiry into allegations of systemic abuse against prisoners by prison officers in the country’s solitary confinement blocks. Lord Berwick’s call for the enquiry came as he found two prisoners not guilty of orchestrating a riot in Peterhead Prison in August of last year that caused a quarter of a million pounds in damages. Lord Berwick had to clarify the meaning of perjury to a number of prison officers, some of them in senior positions within the prison service, after they contradicted statements given at an earlier date. Lord Berwick said ‘It is quite clear that widespread abuse of inmates is taking place at regular intervals, including the use of excessive force in our institutions, which contradicts the government’s attempts at rehabilitating some of the worst offenders in society. Unless this excess is curbed, there is a danger that already dangerous individuals will leave prison more dangerous to communities than they were when first incarcerated’…

  The Federation of European Car makers claim that Glasgow has the worst record of car thefts in Western Europe after statistics revealed that a car is stolen every fourteen minutes …

  A police constable in the city’s Marine Division has been charged with taking bribes and perverting the course of justice. The unnamed officer, who has sixteen years exemplary service, including The Police Medal for bravery, is due to appear up in court at a later date. No details of the actual offences have been released…

  An attractive eighteen-year-old girl was raped by two men at a party in a house on Barshaw Road, Penilee last night. The distressed youngster, who was heavily under the influence of drink, was rushed to the city’s Western Infirmary. Chief Inspector Ronald Bowling, caused outrage today after informing journalists that the girl was fine and allowed home from hospital after her ordeal. He then went on to issue a warning to teenage girls about the effects of alcohol and going out dressed provocatively to parties where temptation by drunken youths under the effects of alcohol played a big factor in their behaviour. Jill Shand, a ward sister at The Royal Infirmary and leading women’s rights campaigner has demanded that Inspector Bowling be severely reprimanded and demoted after the outrageous co
mment. Ms Shand went on to tell this programme that…”

  Chapter Twenty Four

  They sat patiently, in silence, as Miss Beaker noisily spread oot the cups and saucers oan the wee coffee table while she flirted unashamedly wae Thomas Peacock, The Department’s fat legal brief. There wur five biscuits oan the plate that she held oot tae each ae them in turn. A chocolate digestive, two ginger snaps, a custard cream and a Dumfries YOI kitchen-made, rich tea biscuit. The Brief goat offered first choice and swiped the chocolate wan. Next, the custard cream went tae the governor, followed by a ginger snap each tae Angus Diamond, the Scottish Governors’ Association rep and tae Dumfries’s newly installed chief prison officer, Henry Baker. SO Dick, the Prison Officers’ Association rep fae Dumfries YOI wis the only wan tae thank Miss Beaker, as he gratefully picked up the dry, tasteless piece ae cardboard that masqueraded as a Rich Tea biscuit. He wisnae bothered aboot the obvious pecking order oan display roond aboot him, he telt himsel. He wis jist happy tae be allowed in tae the big boys’ meeting. Getting fed crumbs or hit o’er the heid wae the shitey end ae the stick wis aw par fur the course fur the dedicated frontline staff within the Scottish Prison Service. The invitation tae the meeting hidnae come too soon fur him. He’d picked up grumblings doon at the club oan Friday night that some ae the boys hidnae been too happy aboot his representation ae their needs lately. The assault oan Specky Hamilton, The Tormentor, in the corridor leading tae the dining hall three weeks earlier hid forced the crack open and there wis noo a definite dribble ae pish running oot. When he’d received the invite, oot ae the blue an hour earlier, fae Miss Beaker, asking if he could attend the meeting, it hid come as a surprise. Nowan hid telt him that there hid been a meeting planned. Wan ae the boys across at the gatehoose hid phoned across and alerted him efter he’d clocked the fat arse ae the Edinburgh brief turning left intae Terregles Street in a car wae Department number plates oan it, the sly fucker. Efter receiving his invitation in the form ae a wee scrawled message oan a piece ae paper that hid been sent across tae the sewing machine shoap, he’d quickly managed tae let it be known amongst the staff that, as the key POA rep in the institution, he’d forced Governor Crawford’s haun and hid demanded inclusion. The only sticky bit hid been when Bob Stafford fae the sewing machine shoap hid asked him whit the meeting wis aw aboot. The SO hid managed tae body-swerve his way oot ae replying by telling Bob and the other three officers in the shoap that he hid tae go and dae a bit ae preparation and that he’d explain everything later. The main thing he’d assured them ae, wis that Donald Dick wis oan the case and that he’d be back wae good news fur them later oan in the day. It hid been that last bit that hid concerned him. He hidnae a bloody clue whit the meeting wis supposed tae be aboot. Bob, the stupid basturt that he wis, hid telt him in front ae the others that he wid call a meeting ae the members at five o’clock roond in the club when the YOs wur locked up efter they hid their evening meal. Aw the SO knew wis that he’d been invited, and that, as far as he wis concerned, wis his opportunity tae redeem himsel in the eyes ae the POA membership.