‘Look, stop whining will you? It’s done now and you actually look years younger.’
‘Really?’
‘Yeah, you only look about sixty-five now,’ said Annie with a smirk.
‘Cheers Annie, remind me to look out your P45 when we get back to the office. But I must admit, the hot shave was really good. I actually fell asleep after ten minutes buried under the hot towels and then, when that little prick Simon suddenly whipped out an open razor, I thought just for a minute that I was a rookie cop again, back on the beat in the Calton. I was almost reaching for my old police baton.’
‘Anyway now that the haircut’s taken care of, are you up for phase two of the makeover? You badly need some new clothes. Especially after what happened to your trousers in the park.’
‘Okay then, let’s just get it all over and done with in one go. What kind of look do you think I should I be going for? Do I need a new suit?’
‘Honestly, nobody bothers too much about that anymore. The places where I’ve worked recently, all the guys in charge just wore smart casual clothes. But I always think it’s worth paying a little bit more for better quality and cut. Other people notice these things a lot more than you might think.’
‘So I take it we’ll be giving Primark a body swerve.’
‘There’s nothing wrong with Primark, I absolutely love it. But not to-day.’
‘Okay, where then?’
‘Just follow me.’
They then walked half a mile to yet another of Annie’s former places of employment, a large department store with a well-stocked men’s department. Jack hesitated at the door, reluctant to enter the upscale emporium, saying, ‘I don’t know about this. I really don’t like buying clothes.’
‘I’d never have guessed,’ replied Annie, rolling her eyes in mock surprise. ‘Come on, I’m pretty sure that we can get everything you need in here, and I might even be able to blag a decent discount as well.’
Half an hour later, they were back on the pavement outside the store. Annie was triumphantly holding a black plastic bin bag, containing all the outer clothing Jack had worn on the way in.
Her employer was now resplendent in new Kurt Geiger brogues and a pair of Ted Baker slacks, which complemented a tailored open-neck shirt by Ralph Lauren and a dark blue Tommy Hilfiger, single-breasted blazer. He was also self-consciously holding a clutch of brightly coloured carrier bags containing additional supplies of shirts, trousers and shoes. Anxiously scrutinising a lengthy till receipt as he struggled to check that the addition was correct, he spluttered, ‘Fucking hell, Annie. Did you see what all this came to?’
‘You’ve got to speculate to accumulate, boss,’ she replied. ‘These new clothes you’ve just bought are actually an investment, and you might be able to offset some of the cost against tax.’
‘But Jesus, seven hundred and fifty-nine quid …’
‘Look, I saved you almost a hundred pounds on the deal. So just build a bridge and get over it, okay? The makeover’s all done, so check out your reflection in the store window. I’d say you’re looking pretty good. Well, for a man of your age and physical condition. Go on have a twirl.’
Grudgingly, Jack had to agree. ‘Well I maybe do look a little bit better, fair enough. But what about all of my old stuff? There’s years of good wear in it yet.’
Annie snorted and replied, ‘Look, if it was up to me, all your old kit would be going straight into the nearest skip. But if you insist on keeping it, you have to promise never to wear it again to work, unless you’re going undercover down at the night shelter.’
‘But …’
Brooking no further protest, Annie insisted, ‘Stop right there. That’s it, no more buts. For the avoidance of doubt, boss, potential new clients expect you to be well-groomed and smartly dressed, because image is everything nowadays. If you look successful, that gives them the extra confidence that they’ve picked the right man. That’s just the way it is. Trust me, you have to look the part. You didn’t before, but now you do. Job done. End of.’
Chapter 11
Back at the office Jack took a phone call from the out of pocket insurance company, with an update on Frankie, the footballing fraudster. He briefed Annie afterwards, ‘That was my contact at First Mutual Insurance. They’ve had another phone call about Frankie boy. He’s been spotted again playing five-a-side out at the Greenbank Sports Centre, on the south side of the city. Apparently he was in a quite a violent altercation during the game. The other guy involved thought he recognised him from a roof job Frankie had worked on at his mum’s house. So he was only too pleased to shop him in exchange for a reward, if his information checks out.’
A relieved Annie began a new Google search on her MacBook, for details of the Greenbank Sports Centre, and then announced, ‘So that makes things much easier. We can find out when his team is due to play their next game and then be ready at the sports centre waiting for him.’
As Jack started to make himself a toasted sandwich, Annie popped a can of high energy fizz, took a gulp and asked, ‘You never told me how you lost your driving licence.’
‘Well, long story short, I drank and drove, then drank a bit more and got caught. You know, the usual boring story.’
Never one to settle for less than the full details about anything, Annie replied, ‘Yeah, I get that bit. I’m just curious about the actual circumstances.’
Jack sighed before replying, ‘Okay, to be perfectly honest, it could have happened anytime in the last thirty years.’
‘But I mean, why do it at all? It’s completely stupid.’
‘Of course it’s stupid. But the thing is I was pretty good at it and, although I never drove when I thought I was drunk, my limit was quite a bit higher than the legal one. Anyway, the night when I got caught, I wasn’t actually driving at the time, which is quite funny. I was just sitting in my car, on a stakeout job watching a house in a quiet residential side street, and the bum I was waiting to come out spotted me parked outside and immediately phoned the police to complain. So they turn up, smell the booze on me right away and get the breathalyser kit out. It was as simple as that. Complete pain in the arse, of course, but I had a good run, Annie. I really shouldn’t complain.’
‘Maybe it’s just Karma.’
‘Pardon me?’
‘Well you wouldn’t have such a wonderful new assistant, if you hadn’t been caught drunk in charge.’
Jack looked unconvinced and said, ‘That’s one way of looking at it, I suppose.’
Picking up his newspaper, Jack then said, ‘I think I’m on a roll with the crossword again, but as usual there’s one sodding clue that’s got me stumped. You ready for another one?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Annie, yawning.
‘Okay then, what’s that thing that thousands of scientists have spent a huge pile of taxpayers’ money building over in Switzerland? To try and discover if something that nobody has heard of, or even cares about, actually exists.’
Annie scratched her head, and said, ‘Oh wait, I think I know that one. Is it the Large Hard-On Colander?’
Jack looked sceptically over his reading glasses at his young colleague and once more perused the crossword. He counted along the boxes, before announcing, ‘Nope, doesn’t fit in.’
‘Sorry boss, I did say it was a large one,’ said Annie, with a deadpan expression.
‘You’re right, it is a huge complex. I’m sure I read somewhere that it’s even visible to the naked eye from the moon.’
‘Just like that big rose tattoo on Cheryl Cole’s arse,’ said Annie, smirking.
Smiling, Jack replied, ‘But you could be onto something here, kiddo. Developing a Large Hard-On Colander would be much more useful to mankind than what they’re actually doing. You should send them an email, we might scam a hundred million euro grant out of them to knock up a prototype. I can see a Nobel Prize beckoning.’
Annie stared at her employer, then rolled her eyes and shook her head in mock pity. ‘I’ve be
en meaning to ask you about all this mad shit you come out with. Have you always done it, or is it maybe an age thing?’
‘I’m not entirely sure, but I have definitely noticed that people do shed their inhibitions as they get older, and just say whatever it is they’re thinking, regardless of the consequences. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, mind you, but there is a really unfair trade off as you reach middle age. Most things you don’t do as well as your younger self, that’s a given. Like having poorer eyesight and hearing, slower reaction times and so on. All of these things deteriorate gradually over time. But conversely, while all that stuff’s going on, there are a few things that you do actually get better at as you grow older.’
‘Really?’ asked Annie sceptically. ‘Like what?’
‘There are no prizes for guessing that number one on the list is farting, closely followed by snoring and lastly, drooling down your chin like a dog, while asleep.’
‘It’s funny you should say that, boss,’ said Annie. ‘I actually know somebody who can do all three simultaneously, for hours and hours on end. And it’s not a pretty picture, I can tell you. Actually, it’s the only example of men successfully multi-tasking that I can think of.’
Jack looked somewhat sheepish and said, ‘You’re probably right. But it is true that men’s and women’s brains are wired completely differently, so that explains why they tend to be good at different things. I read somewhere that the theory that men are better at concentrating on single tasks, while women excel when multitasking is required, is actually true. Male brains, apparently, are wired from back to front, with only a few connections bridging across between the two halves. But in the female brain, the connections between the two halves are much more pronounced from left to right. Amazing, isn’t it?’
Annie yawned again and said, ‘I don’t know about that, boss. Most of the guys that I’ve been out with recently, the only thing their brain seemed to be wired directly to was their dick, or maybe an X-Box.’
Chapter 12
Still on the trail of the randy car mechanic, Jack and Annie were parked in a scruffy lane full of railway arch type lock-up garages, which appeared to be used mainly by members of the motor trade. Anxious to prove herself by flying solo, Annie protested, ‘I could have done this job by myself boss, honestly.’
‘Look Annie, legally I’ve got a duty of care to my new assistant and, much more important, I promised your Aunt Peggy to keep you safe, remember? You’ve just started in this business, so you’ve got to be patient and learn the basics before you hit the streets on your own.’
‘But it’s dead simple. We know that Glasgow’s answer to Russell Brand works somewhere down this lane, so surely all I have to do is wait here and then follow him home when he finishes work.’
Jack started to pick a few holes in Annie’s plan. ‘Okay, there are maybe forty-odd lock-ups here. Do you know which one is his?’
‘No, he didn’t give me the number, just the street name.’
‘Okay, do you even know what he looks like?’
‘Yes and no. I did get the client to email a picture of him. I’ve got it here, but it was taken when they were on holiday and he’s wearing Speedos, sunglasses, a straw hat and he’s holding a glass with a little umbrella and a sparkler in it.’
Jack snorted and said, ‘So he should be pretty easy to spot then, in the middle of Glasgow, on a miserable Tuesday afternoon. Here let me see.’
Annie handed him the picture and Jack shook his head. ‘To be fair, he does look as fit as a butcher’s dog, although if he’s pumping half the women in Glasgow he’d need to be. But you really need to explain this to me, Annie. I mean he’s not exactly Brad Pitt, is he? What’s the attraction?’
Annie then tried to explain one of the mysteries of the universe. ‘Some women are like moths drawn to a flame, you know. Always attracted to the exciting dangerous guys, who often aren’t that good looking. The ones who don’t seem to give a shit about anything, but just have the nerve to try it on with every female they meet. The ones I’ve met, the real players, didn’t seem to take it too personally when they got a knockback, or a slap. It’s not personal with them, they just move right along to the next warm body.’
The drift of their conversation gave Jack the chance to ask, ‘Do you have any current boyfriends, Annie?’
‘Well I was seeing someone, but I split with him last month.’
‘What was the problem? If you don’t mind me asking.’
‘Well there were a few issues that cropped up, you know, after the initial heat had cooled down. But in the end, it was mainly religious differences that made me dump him.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that, Annie. It’s amazing in the twenty-first century, that the old Catholic – Protestant thing can still be a real problem for some people here in the West of Scotland.’
‘No it wasn’t that. He thought he was God and I didn’t. What about you?’
Jack smiled and answered, ‘No, I don’t have a boyfriend at the moment either. But I’m always open to offers.’
Annie gave Jack one of her fierce looks and said, ‘No, seriously.’
Jack sighed and looked out of the car window, before reflecting on past mistakes. ‘There hasn’t really been anyone since I got divorced six years ago, after being married for twenty-two years. To be honest, it definitely wasn’t an easy life for my wife, being married to someone who was first of all a policeman and then a private detective. You know, the unsocial hours, combined with lots of drinking, bringing baggage home because of the bad stuff you see at work. So more drinking at home, which leads to arguments and harsh words being exchanged. Anyway, there came a point when she’d simply had enough. But there wasn’t anyone else involved, we’d just drifted apart and it was all quite amicable in the end. Yeah, she got the house, the money, the cars and the kids.’
‘How many?’ asked Annie.
Jack remained true to form and said, ‘We had two. A little Ford Fiesta runabout and Senga, of course.’
Another fierce scowl from Annie elicited the required information. ‘Sorry, we’ve a son and a daughter, both in their late teens and remarkably sane and sensible under the circumstances. I’m lucky, they’re both really good kids.’
However, Annie’s female curiosity was still piqued and her cross-examination continued unabated. ‘So, if your wife got the house, the kids, the cars and the money, what did you get?’
‘Well I got my cassette collection, which was completely non-negotiable, and Senga. Oh, and the business. Combined current value probably around £500, which is mainly in the car. But on a positive note, thanks to a wonderful new key employee, I do have prospects.’
Annie wasn’t finished and continued, ‘But didn’t you have a lawyer? I mean to negotiate a fair financial settlement. You know, like a fifty-fifty split of your joint assets?’
‘No, I felt that it was all my fault, Annie. I’d neglected my wife and children and I didn’t deserve to take anything from the marriage. I still feel the same. It’s not a new story, the late great Hank Williams explained it a lot better than me.’
Annie was none the wiser for Jack’s explanation. ‘So was he like an old friend, or a counsellor?’
Jack nodded and said, ‘Both Annie, he was a famous country singer, who wrote the book on breaking up and heartaches. But in a foot-tapping, catchy kind of way. He’s the main man as far as I’m concerned.’
‘Well I like having my independence,’ said Annie. ‘I don’t think I’ll ever get married. From what I can see it just seems to make most people miserable.’
Cheerfully, Jack then advised, ‘Look, don’t waste time worrying about it, kiddo, you might never get asked. Anyway enough of the true confessions, how are we going to find out where this randy bugger lives, since we don’t know where he’s working, or what he looks like?’
A light bulb above head moment then occurred to Annie. ‘Okay, why don’t I just phone him again and ask which lock-up garage he’s in. Then I can go down
, pretend to fix up a day for my car service and try and find out where he lives at the same time.’
Urging caution Jack warned, ‘No, that’s not the way I usually handle these situations. It’s really best to be cautious and keep any contact with the target to an absolute minimum.’
‘You’ve obviously not heard, boss, but us women do have our little ways. Especially when it comes to dealing with a total radge merchant. Trust me, I can do this and save us a lot of time messing about.’
As she started to get out the car Jack conceded defeat and offered a final instruction. ‘Okay then, fair enough, but try not to come back covered in oily paw prints. I’ve just had the upholstery cleaned.’
Annie spoke briefly on her mobile to the mechanic, then gave Jack a thumb’s up and set off purposefully down the lane.
Chapter 13
Ten minutes later Annie returned to the car smiling smugly and, thankfully, free of oily paw marks. ‘Job done boss, the address of the love shack is 219 Henry Street, top flat left, the red door with a big knocker. You won’t be surprised to learn that he’s a fan of big knockers, judging by the number of nudie posters plastered all over the garage walls.’
Reluctantly acknowledging Annie’s success, Jack smirked and said, ‘Okay then Annie, I’m officially impressed. So how did you do manage to, ahem, pull it off?’
A further fierce scowl from Annie elicited yet another swift apology, ‘Sorry.’
‘Well using the previously mentioned womanly wiles and a touch of the improvisation you talked about yesterday, I talked him out of his first idea, which was the kind offer of a quick and dirty shag bent over the bonnet of a rusty old Vauxhall Vectra. I said to him, “Please, a girl does have her standards. Now if it was a shiny red Ferrari, well … you know, that might be different.”’
Fidgeting with his shirt collar, Jack urged, ‘Okay, just get on with it. I’m starting to feel queasy.’
Fire in the Blood Page 6
