by Todd, Ian
“Whit’s up then?” Snappy wheezed, plapping that arse ae his doon oan the grass, hivving qualified fur the four and eight hunner yards finals, as the wee priest slipped ‘Ma Sweet Lord’ oan tae his turntable.
“Johnboy’s worried aboot Silent,” Tony informed him.
“Ah’m no surprised. Hiv ye seen the state ae him running up and doon that side-line? Somewan should tell him that it’s a game ae fitba and no basketball that he’s supposed tae be keeping his eyes oan.”
“Tony’s jist been telling me how he cannae wait tae get his hauns oan Wee Pie,” Johnboy said, diverting the conversation.
“Aye, well, jist you inform his lordship that there’s far mair important basturts nearer tae hame than Wee Pie that could be daeing wae being dealt wae first,” Snappy said, nodding towards The Tormentor. “Right, that’s me…ma presence is required,” Roger Bannister announced, jumping up and running across tae the start line.
“Johnboy, Ah’m telling ye, don’t worry aboot Silent. Ah’ll look efter him.”
Johnboy looked at Tony, thinking back tae when Tony hid goat a couple ae wan-bedroomed flats, across in Hathaway Street, between Ruchill and Maryhill, a week efter they’d done the bank. Silent and Snappy hid been across helping Tony tae square it up before wan ae Simon’s boys hid gone roond tae carpet the place. Johnboy hid goat Pat tae drive him o’er tae drap aff a change ae clothes fur Silent. When Johnboy and Pat hid arrived, it hid been like a scene oot ae an auld black and white George Raft movie. Ben and Simon hid been staunin in the kitchen arguing o’er whether it wis Marc Benno who played lead guitar oan The Doors’s ‘Riders Oan The Storm’ or whether it wis Robby Krieger himsel, while ‘Be-Bop-a-Lula’ by Gene Vincent wis blasting oot ae a wee portable record player that wis sitting oan tap ae the electric cooker that hidnae been wired up. When Johnboy hid glanced through the kitchen door tae the living room, he’d no been able tae believe they eyes ae his. Python Lee Jackson hid been lying strapped tae a builder’s plank, oan his back. The plank hid been strung across a big square pouffe stool and Silent hid been sitting oan Python’s shins. Underneath, running parallel tae the plank, an auld galvanised tin bath, three quarters full ae water, wis being used as a makeshift torture device. While Tony, Jake and Snappy stood aboot laughing, Silent hid been lifting his arse up aff ae Python Lee’s shins and his heid wid disappear under the water. Efter whit seemed like ages, Silent wid put his weight back doon oan the plank and a drenched, spluttering, howling Python Lee wid re-emerge.
“Whit’s gaun oan wae them then?” Pat hid asked Simon, as Ben drapped Gene Vincent back oan tae the turntable.
“Ach, they kidnapped Python Lee efter spotting him walking alang Firhill Street oan the way across here. They’re trying tae find oot where the fuck Toffee Arse Simpson’s living these days. Ah’m no sure he’s gonnae gie them whit they’re efter though. Ah’m surprised he hisnae drooned wae the length ae time they’ve been ducking him in that bath,” Simon hid replied indifferently. Toffee Arse Simpson wis the youngest ae The Simpson Brothers. He’d been in borstal at the same time as Silent and Johnboy. It wis him that hid stabbed Silent in the back wae a chisel in the pallet workshoap the day he’d been let oot ae the digger. The Mankys hid been oan the look-oot fur Toffee Arse since Silent and Johnboy hid goat liberated fae borstal oan Hogmanay, back in 71. Withoot his big brothers tae protect him, Toffee Arse wis as good as deid. Seemingly, Python Lee Jackson hid been sheltering Toffee Arse fur a while, bit the trail hid gone cauld.
“Johnboy, Silent’s safe wae me, so he is. Ah’ll make sure ae that,” Tony promised, breaking intae his thoughts.
“Tony, unless ye hivnae noticed, Ah’m goosed, so Ah am. Christ…fourteen years. Ma earliest date ae lib is July 1982, so it is.”
“And Ah’ve jist telt ye, ye won’t be daeing anywhere near that kind ae time, trust me.”
“It’s okay fur you tae say that, bit fae where Ah’m sitting, Ah don’t even hiv a whiff ae a tunnel never mind seeing the lights at the end ae wan.”
“The trouble wae you, Johnboy, is ye’re jist too pessimistic, so ye ur. Christ, if ye think your situation is bad, ye want tae read some Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn and The Count ae Monte Cristo. It’s jist as well Ah’m only daeing three years and Ah’ll be oot in May ae next year. If Ah wisnae, where wid ye be then, eh? Ah’ve telt ye, Ah don’t know how Ah’ll dae it, bit something’ll come up and we’ll be oan tae it. Ah’ll hiv ye oot, running aboot, before ye know it. Ah jist need tae get oot ae here withoot being dragged doon by that mad fucker running roond in circles oan that track doon there. C’mone, Snappy, ya fat tadger, ye, get that arse moving!” Tony shouted, as ‘Knocking Oan Heaven’s Door’ came o’er the tannoy. “Nothing kin happen wae your situation while Ah’m still stuck in here. Ah mean, it’s no as if we’re dealing wae sensible, real people, is it? Ah’m no sure that Wan-bob will go fur it efter aw this time, which means hivving tae go through The Big Man. How the fuck Ah’m gonnae manage that, is anywan’s guess. Ah cannae see him inviting me o’er tae Spain fur a wee visit noo, kin you? Blame that Wee Pie wan. If he hidnae fucked wae us, Ah wid’ve been oot there getting everything sorted oot, well in advance, before yer trial wis called up tae the High Court. Christ, yours wis the easy wan tae fix. It wis Silent’s situation wae that thumb print, that hid me worried.”
“When we wur up at the High Court, Silent started tae take an interest in spree killings, so he did,” Johnboy said, rolling o’er oan tae his stomach.
“Did he noo?”
“Aye, some plonker ae a turnkey filled his heid full ae shite aboot some guy called Peter Manuel, so he did,” Johnboy replied, before gaun oan tae explain the conversation between Silent and the turnkey while they wur stuck beneath the south court.
“So, how dae ye know he ended up being interested in it then? Maybe he wis jist passing the time ae day insteid ae hivving tae listen tae you bleating oan aboot how hard-done-by ye wur?”
“He brought it up again when we wur up in Longriggend. Christ, he even rattled aff a list ae the people we’d tangled wae, gaun back a few years, so he did.”
“There’s nothing wrang wae keeping lists, as long as ye don’t write them doon. Christ, Ah’ve goat a list the length ae yer erm oan who’s gonnae suffer the consequences when Ah get libbed fae here. Ah’ll need tae remember and pass the names oan tae Silent and he kin keep tabs fur me, in case Ah’ve left anywan oot,” Tony said, smiling.
“Ah don’t bloody deserve tae be in here, Tony. That’s whit makes it so fucking hard, knowing Ah didnae shoot that basturt, Thompson, or that PC Shiny Button sidekick ae his. It widnae be so bad if Ah hid.”
“Look, none ae us deserve tae be in here. The only wan that’s guilty ae whit they’ve been charged wae, as far as Ah kin see, is Silent. Me, Pat and Snappy didnae go roond tae extort money fae Wee Pie and that family ae his. We only went tae get whit wis rightfully oors. Talk aboot injustice?”
“Aye, bit fourteen years?”
“Fourteen minutes, fourteen months…it’s aw the same, Johnboy. Daeing time fur something ye didnae commit sucks. Think ae aw they lost opportunities? Don’t feel doon…feel angry. It’s far healthier and it makes ye want tae get oot ae yer bed in the morning, knowing that it’s another day nearer the gate. Naw, Ah’ve goat a bit ae time tae make up fur, and any fucker, irrespective ae who they ur, better think twice before staunin in ma road.”
Johnboy rolled o’er and looked at Tony. He wis jist o’er a year aulder than Johnboy, yet he’d masterminded blowing the heid aff ae wan ae the biggest gangsters in the toon when he wis jist seventeen. That hid led tae a total shift in the fortunes ae The Big Man’s empire in the city efter Toby Simpson, Tam Simpson’s wee brother, hid been taken oot ae the picture by Wan-bob at the same time as Tony hid done the deed tae Tam. The Big Man noo ruled hauf the city withoot any opposition fae anywan. Nothing happened withoot Wan-bob Broon getting tae hear aboot it…and getting his cut. Very few people knew or hid heard ae Tony, bit the wans that hid, like The
Big Man, Wan-bob Broon and Charlie Hastie, knew how special he wis. Whit other young Turk ae Tony’s age wid’ve hid the opportunity tae be involved in getting shot ae wan ae their ain top men? That’s whit hid happened in The Big Man’s ootfit. It wis unbelievable. The Big Man hid seen the potential in Tony Gucci when he wis a tiny wee snapper back in the Toonheid in the late fifties and early sixties. No matter how much Johnboy thought it o’er, he jist couldnae figure oot whit it wis that Pat Molloy hid seen back then, other than the fact that Tony wis smart, game as fuck and scared ae nowan. Johnboy wondered if the authorities hid even the faintest idea ae whit it wis they hid locked up in Dumfries.
“Uh-oh, don’t look noo, bit yer new best pal is heiding this way?” Tony grumbled, breaking intae Johnboy’s thoughts again.
“Right, don’t say a word. Let me dae the talking,” Johnboy warned him.
“Hoi, don’t ye worry, pal, ma lips ur sealed. Hunchback or no, he’s still a priest as far as Ah’m concerned.”
“Ah mean it, Tony.”
“Hellorerr, Father. That wis some play-list if Ah don’t mind saying so masel,” Tony said in welcome.
“Oh, hello there, Anthony, and how are you today?”
“Daeing time, the same as yesterday and the day before that,” Tony replied drily.
“And you, Johnboy? I was wondering if you’ve had a chance to consider helping me out with my Sunday services.”
“Ach, Ah’m still contemplating the offer, Father.”
“I see. So, what exactly are your misgivings then?”
“That he disnae believe in the wan true Holy Spirit, Father,” Tony volunteered.
“Is that right, Johnboy? Is that really your reason?”
“He says as a bluenose he’ll feel stupid setting up the vestments in a Catholic chapel and playing guitar in honour ae something he disnae believe in. Total heathen material, so he is,” Tony continued, picking up a blade ae grass and chewing oan it.
“Johnboy?”
“Well, Tony dis hiv a point there, Father. Ah mean, Ah’ve read the bible and aw that when there’s been nothing else, bit there’s absolutely nothing that Ah’ve read in it so far that leads me tae believe that whit they wur up tae, back then, kin be physically replicated in front ae us here in this day and age…at least no that Ah kin relate tae…if ye get ma drift?”
“So, you’re saying that if I can give you an example of an event or happening that occurred two thousand years ago that you can witness, evidence or feel now, you’ll play in my service?”
“Aye, something like that,” Johnboy sniggered, glad tae get the priest aff ae his back.
“Well, now, that will give me something to think of tonight,” the priest admitted, smiling, turning roond and walking back tae his wee canopy tent where he put oan ‘In ma Ain Time’ by Family, wan ae Pat’s favourite bands.
“Whit’s this aboot a bit ae wood then?” Pat panted, plapping that skinny arse ae his doon oan tae the grass beside them.
“Johnboy, tell him.”
“Naw, you tell him, he’s your mate.”
Tony explained the plan tae steal the ammunition clip fae Stafford. There wis a few times that it wis obvious that Pat wanted tae ask a question, bit decided tae let Tony finish first.
“And ye call that a plan, dae ye?” Pat asked, scowling across at Johnboy.
“It’ll dae fur the time being, unless ye’ve goat a better wan that’ll keep that dunderheid occupied until oor lib date comes aroond,” Tony replied, nodding tae the runners oan the track.
“Tony, Ah cannae bloody well believe you. Ah’m sorry, Johnboy, bit wid ye dae us aw a big favour and stoap filling everywan’s heids full ae shite. There’s a lot at stake here, so there is.”
“Me? Whit the fuck his this goat tae dae wae me?”
“Because when Tony wis talking like a gargling prat, Ah could jist hear yer voice in there, somewhere in the background, scheming away, playing games withoot thinking ae the rest ae us…like some selfish cunt who’s daeing loads a time so hisnae goat anything tae lose.”
“Look, Pat, aw Ah’m trying tae dae is help youse aw oot here. And anyway, it wisnae jist ma idea…everywan hid an input.”
“Ah thought ye said we hid tae keep oor noses clean in here, Tony?”
“Ah did. Whit’s that goat tae dae wae anything?”
“Because youse ur aw gonnae get huckled and drag me doon wae youse, ya bunch ae selfish basturts,” Pat harrumphed, as Tony and Johnboy burst oot laughing.
“Bloody hell and tae think he’s ma co-accused,” Tony said tae Johnboy, smiling.
“Ah’m sick ae youse basturts taking advantage ae ma good nature, so Ah am. Ah’m in here daeing time because ae youse losers. Ah wis awright before Ah met youse…earning a decent few bob here and there, noo look at me? A fucking scummy jailbird, who disnae even like the taste ae porridge,” Pat whined, before gieing in and joining in wae their laughter. “Ah’m bloody serious. Youse basturts ur daeing ma heid in…and don’t mention that fucking Snappy wan. If Ah wisnae in the jail awready, Ah’d be daeing time fur murdering the fuck oot ae him, so Ah wid.”
“It’s goat nothing tae dae wae Johnboy. We need tae keep Snappy occupied or he’ll end up getting himsel, and us, intae bother,” Tony said.
“Fuck Snappy. Since when hiv you become a social worker? Tell him tae go and hiv a session wae that Fanny wan…that’s whit she’s supposed tae get paid fur.”
“Look, aw ye need tae dae is jam a wee ammo clip intae a block ae wood, fur fuck’s sake,” Tony said tae him.
“And whit aboot poor Silent, eh? Ye know fine well he wants that barber’s job, so he dis.”
“Well, if ye don’t fuck it up at your end, then he’ll still get it then, won’t he?” Tony retorted, still amused by Pat’s predictable ootburst.
”So, ye’re no gonnae join in and help us keep Snappy amused then, Pat?” Johnboy challenged him. “Is that whit ye’re saying?”
“Johnboy, shut the fuck up, this his goat fuck aw tae dae wae you, ya loser, ye…whit size is the clip, anyway?” he asked, sitting doon and untying his laces, tipping the heel ae his trainer, as the three ae them sat watching hauf the cinder ash fae the track trickle oot oan tae the grass.
“Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.
There was tight security today at Glasgow Cathedral as members of the royal family and a whole host of the great and the good gathered for the wedding of Beatrice, Archduchess of Austria-Este, ex-Duchess of Kyle, to Glasgow’s own Lord Frank Owen, proprietor of The Glasgow Echo and The Sunday Echo. In attendance were the Archduchess’s ex-husband, The Duke of Kyle and their beautiful daughter and lead bridesmaid, Lady Saba Blair MacIain MacDonald, who was at the centre of a kidnap scare involving police forces from throughout Scotland back in 1969. It transpired that the fourteen-year-old Lady Saba left her romantic ancestral seat, Culrain Castle, in the Highlands to travel to her grandmother’s home in England without telling anyone. Lord Frank’s estranged ex-wife was not in attendance. The only glitch of the day came when the famous Glasgow Police World Championship Pipe Band’s van, carrying their bagpipes and drums, was stolen from the Rottenrow, where it was parked during the service, despite heavy security in the area. Unfortunately, the pipe band could not play and had to arrange public transport home, as the happy couple and guests left the cathedral into the bright sunshine. The bride wore a…
Colleagues and patients at The Western Infirmary were today mourning the death of thirty two year old Dr Bernard Walsh, who was found dead at his home in Hamilton Avenue, Pollockshields, this morning. It is believed that Dr Walsh committed suicide by hanging himself. A report has been sent to the procurator fiscal…
Police arrested eight women and thirteen of their clients in an upmarket brothel in the city’s West End late last night. A report has been sent to the procurator fiscal…”
Chapter Thirty Eight
Johnboy wis watching Silent’s back. His heid
and shoulders wur bent forward. Johnboy could tell that he wis starting tae get anxious, as his sewing machine wis gaun like the clappers. It wis Friday and if they didnae blag the ammo clip that day, then Silent wid miss oot oan the show, as he wis aboot tae become the only barber in the nick, starting the following Monday morning. Although he hidnae said anything, aw The Mankys knew he wis desperate tae be involved, so wur praying this wis the day. Pat, who wis next door in the joinery shoap, hid been whinging aw week, demanding tae know whit the fuck wis happening. He said that the screws hid been gieing him funny looks fur hinging aboot the big planer machine up beside the door leading intae the sewing machine shoap. It hid taken a few days ae tweaking tae get their plans right oan how they wur gonnae blag the clip. Dockland Sammy hid been fair chuffed when they asked him tae be involved. At wan point, Tony hid tae tell him tae stoap looking doon at them in anticipation every time he came through fae the painters’ shoap next door.
“And fur Christ’s sake, slow doon, Sammy. Ye’re shooting through that door, pushing yer trolley in front ae ye like a spaniel, expecting tae find a bitch oan heat oan the other side ae the door,” Tony hid warned him.
