Slammer

Slammer Page 6

by Allan Guthrie

  'I don't.' He didn't.

  'David was a mistake.'

  'I know.'

  'So why are you fucking around?'

  'It wasn't like that.'

  'Ah,' she said, 'not denying it any more?' She poured herself another glass. 'It's just me you don't want to do it with. She pretty, is she? Young? Slim? Big tits? Nice tight fanny, not like the bucket Caitlin left me with?'

  'Don't be gross.'

  'Jesus shit, you're so fucking prissy.'

  'You're so fucking drunk.'

  'I'm not drunk enough.'

  'I went to visit someone,' he told her.

  'Who?'

  'Doesn't matter. Point is, the girl was already there.'

  'Like shite.'

  'She was, Lorna. Listen to me.'

  'You'll just lie. Lie, lie, lie.'

  'Hear me out. Just for a second.'

  She ran her tongue over her teeth. 'Go on then.'

  He explained about finding the bedroom door open, the girl looking like she was being raped. 'I thought I was helping.'

  'You didn't touch her?'

  'No.'

  'Expect me to believe that?'

  'What do you think happened? Really?'

  She was quiet. 'I don't know.'

  He tried placing his hand on hers again. This time she didn't pull away. 'Who told you?' he asked.

  She gulped more wine down. 'He did.'

  'Who?'

  'Him.' She screamed. 'Him.'

  Glass looked at the wine bottle. It was tempting to knock back a glass or two. Really tempting. 'Watt?'

  She nodded. Repeated his name.

  How did Watt know where he'd been? And even if the bastard had been following him, how would he know about the girl?

  Glass asked, 'What did he say?'

  'Said you were busy … shagging some little tart. Said he thought I should know what my husband was like.'

  What a bastard.

  'I told him he was talking shit,' she said. 'You wouldn't do that, I said. He asked me if I knew where you were. I said I did, but I didn't. And I think he knew.'

  She knocked her glass over. Might have been deliberate. It hit the table and rolled in an arc. Didn't break. No spillage. She'd already emptied it. She left it there.

  Glass set it upright.

  Lorna continued: 'He said it was on video, you and the slut. Said he'd send me proof. In a brown jiffy bag.'

  Glass kept his voice even. 'It's a lie.'

  'Why would he lie?'

  Glass wasn't sure, but he could guess. 'He's messing with us.'

  'Is he?'

  'Believe it. There's no video. There's nothing for him to send.' He paused. 'It's a lie,' he said again. 'You'll see.'

  She dragged her glass towards her. 'I don't know what to believe.'

  'I don't understand,' he said. 'Why don't you believe me? I've never given you any reason to think I'd be unfaithful to you.'

  'Blame me, that's right.'

  'I'm not.'

  'Well, it sounds like it. I'm the one who was unfaithful. Just keep reminding me of it, why don't you?' She refilled her glass. 'What were you doing there?'

  He looked at his hand. Rubbed his thumb over his knuckles. 'Okay,' he said. 'If you must know.' He took the gun out of his pocket, laid it in front of him.

  She moved back in her seat. 'Is that real?' she asked.

  'Yeah,' he said. 'That's my shopping. That's what I was buying.'

  'Get it out of here.'

  'It won't bite.'

  'Get it the fuck out of here.'

  'Okay.' He picked it up, put it back in his pocket. 'Better?'

  'No,' she said, on her feet. 'I want that out of here. Out of the fucking house.'

  'It's for our protection.'

  'I don't give a shit. Get it out of here.'

  'You believe me about the girl?'

  'Get that away from here or I'll call the police.'

  He laughed. 'Come on, you're definitely drunk.'

  'You think that'll make me less likely to do it?'

  'Okay,' he said. 'I have to go out anyway. I'm meeting Watt.'

  'With that?' she said, indicating his pocket.

  'Yeah, I don't think he'll be bothering us any longer.'

  'Don't.'

  'It's just to scare him.'

  'Don't go.'

  'I work with criminals every day. Watt's just another one. I'll be fine.'

  'What about me? And Caitlin?'

  'I won't be long. You'll be fine too. I'm making sure of that.' He really wanted to believe it. He leaned towards her. Kissed her cheek. Stepped back.

  She looked at him, eyes shiny. 'I can't live like this.'

  That was just the drink talking.

  'Nick,' she said. 'I'm sorry about David.'

  'I know you are.' David. Some guy she'd slept with twice about six months ago. Glass didn't even know his last name. It was over, she said. But clearly she'd never managed to get him out of her mind. Another good reason for them to stay in Edinburgh. Go back to Dunfermline and there was every chance it would all start up again. Glass didn't think he'd recover a second time.

  He walked over to the worktop, dropped the cleaver into the sink, put the meat on a plate and wrapped cling film over it.

  'I was going to make stew,' Lorna said, 'but then he phoned.'

  'Don't worry about it,' Glass said. 'I'll bring some pizza back with me.'

  *

  When four o'clock came, Glass was waiting by the north wall of the Castle Esplanade looking out across the Firth of Forth.

  Tourists spilled out from the Castle in regular spurts. They milled about, gibbering in languages Glass didn't understand, pointing, exclaiming, crossing from one side of the Esplanade to the other, taking in the scenery, snapping photos.

  A solitary fat cloud squatted in the sky. Hardly a breath of wind. Stunning views. In fact it was beautiful.

  But it wasn't what Glass wanted. The weather was wrong. It ought to be stormy. Thunder and lightning. Lashing rain. Zero visibility. An atonal kind of weather, dissonant clouds, clashing light and dark.

  Wasn't like that, though. The sun was lower in the sky but still strong. He felt his forehead prickle and knew he'd burned a little. Fair skin. Never tanned. Pain in the arse that he'd had to wear a jacket.

  'Good to see you again,' a voice behind him said.

  Sounded familiar.

  Hand in his pocket, Glass touched the warmed-up gun, traced along the ribbed grip till he touched the base of the magazine, smooth as Caitlin's elbow.

  Could he go through with it? He had to. No choice. With a family of Japanese tourists right next to him? Course not. Lead the bastard to a secluded spot. Show him the gun. Freak him out. Job done.

  'Is that a gun in your pocket?'

  Glass turned.

  Watt looked different with his clothes on and, somehow, Glass doubted that his real first name was Brad. Maybe that wasn't even his porn name. But here he was. From bedroom to Castle. Having seen Glass make a fool of himself just a short time ago.

  'I hope you'll use it. Don't want you fannying about like earlier.'

  What the hell had Mafia's brother been doing at Mad Will's? Well, Glass knew the answer to that. He was making a porno. And, actually, it wasn't all that surprising that Watt and Mafia would know the same people. They'd both run with Caesar. Watt still did. And Mad Will was probably one of Caesar's suppliers. The signs were all there. Glass was an idiot. He had to learn to pay attention, not let his mind drift all over the place.

  He noticed Watt was dressed for colder weather too. Brown suede jacket, not unlike one Glass had at home. Didn't match the combat trousers and boots.

  'Why did you tell Lorna I'd slept with that girl?'

  Watt laughed. 'Just wanted to see how things were between you. I don't think she loves you, you know. Too quick to believe you'd cheat on her.'

  'She didn't believe you for a minute.'

  'That what she said?' Watt grinned. 'She's l
ying to you.'

  'I should kill you.'

  'Why don't you?' Watt planted his feet firmly, folded his arms. 'Go on. Shoot me.'

  'What do you mean? I can't shoot you here.'

  'So where then? Tell me and we'll go there. I'll make it easy for you.'

  Glass didn't know what he could say to be taken seriously. 'I will shoot you.' He hoped he sounded convincing. 'You better believe it.'

  'Oh, my.' Watt unfolded his arms. 'Look, let's stop fucking about. Forget about your new toy. Just take the gear into the Hilton like Caesar wants. Piss easy.'

  Glass shook his head. 'I can't do that.'

  'But you can shoot me? You're all messed up, Nick.'

  'You think?'

  'Officers don't get searched, so I'm told. There's no risk for you.'

  'Course there's a risk,' Glass said. 'We can get searched any time. Your information's wrong.'

  Watt stared at him.

  Glass squeezed the gun tighter. There was a risk. What did this prick know? Rub-downs of officers were rare, but they did happen. It was well within the prison authorities' rights.

  'All right,' Watt said. 'Maybe there is a risk. But it's hardly one that bears comparison with what'll happen to you if you shoot me. And if you shoot me, you'll get caught. No doubt about it. You had those nice policemen pay me a visit. To be honest, I'm pissed off at you for that.'

  'Great,' Glass said. That was good to know. Felt like a small victory and any kind of victory was welcome at the moment.

  'Not really. Pretty stupid of you, in fact. Who are they going to suspect now if I turn up dead?'

  Glass said, 'How do I know you won't keep this up? How do I know that if I smuggle the dope in, that'll be an end to it?'

  'You don't. But I'm just doing what Caesar asked me to do. Once the job's done, I'm out of your face. You'll never see me again.'

  'Why should I believe that?'

  'Cause I don't work for free. Got my standards. No matter how pleasant the work.'

  Glass hesitated. It was possible Watt was telling the truth. 'If I do this, you'll leave Lorna and Caitlin alone?'

  'You have my word. Scout's honour.'

  Right. 'Swear on your brother's life.'

  Watt's face tightened. 'What does he have to do with this?'

  'Swear on Mafia's life.'

  Watt shrugged. Then he laughed. 'Okay, if that makes a difference to you.'

  'Say it.'

  'I swear.'

  'If you're lying, I'll kill you. I promise. And I'll walk right into the police station afterwards and hand myself in.'

  'Fine,' Watt said. 'Now, if the melodrama's over, can I give you the merchandise?'

  And contrary to Glass's expectations, Watt took a package out of his jacket pocket and handed it to him. In broad daylight and in full view of dozens of people.

  Glass took it. The package was wrapped in gold paper like a box of chocolates. There was an envelope sellotaped to the outside. 'This is it?'

  'That's it.'

  'Bit bulky.'

  Watt sighed. 'Open it when you get home.' He turned, said, 'And be careful with that gun, now. Don't want to have an accident.'

  Glass winced as a sharp pain struck him from behind. Felt like something sharp had slammed into his shoulder. But there was nothing there.

  Watt winked.

  Glass took his hand out of his pocket, rubbed his shoulder. Just a nerve playing up, muscle spasm, something like that.

  *

  Half eleven, Glass was watching television alone.

  'Hope curry's okay,' he had said to Lorna when he returned. 'Got a korma for Caitlin. Didn't fancy pizza.'

  'Anything to soak up the booze. How did it go?'

  Glass told her the cops had visited Watt. 'He got the message.'

  'That's it? No need for us to worry?'

  'None at all. He won't bother us again.'

  'And you got rid of that gun?'

  'Dropped it down a drain.' He was getting better at lying. He'd hidden the gun inside an old chocolate biscuit tin at the bottom of a tea chest in the garage.

  'Give me a hug.' She leaned towards him.

  He smelled her. Sour wine mixed with something sweeter. He put his arms round her. She was warm.

  She said, 'I'm sorry about earlier.'

  'That's okay,' he said.

  Caitlin appeared in the doorway.

  'Hi, baby,' Lorna said. 'Come and join us.'

  Caitlin padded across the room, her favourite teddy, Mo, in her hand. She stretched her arms wide, flung herself at Glass and Lorna hard enough to make Lorna take a side step.

  'Hey,' Lorna said. 'You're knocking me off my feet.'

  'It was Mo,' Caitlin said and giggled. She pressed her cheek against Glass's thigh. 'Are you happy now, Daddy?'

  'Yes, babygirl, ' Glass said. 'We're all happy now.'

  A few hours later, in the kitchen, Glass made himself a couple of cheese sandwiches. Wrapped them in foil. Put them in a Tupperware container.

  Then he popped into the garage. Got Watt's package out of the boot of the car. He unstuck the envelope from the outside and opened it. A bunch of twenty-pound notes. He counted them. Three hundred quid. Paying him was Caesar's idea of a joke. Fuck him.

  He put the money in his wallet for now. Opened the box.

  It was full of bags of brown powder. A couple of dozen of them.

  He started to salivate. It was like he was starving and the bags contained food. His belly ached with a hollowness that needed filling and the solution was right in front of him.

  'Take some. It'll stop the ache.'

  He shook his head, swallowed.

  'Take some. It'll stop all aches.'

  'I don't think so,' he said aloud, hands shaking.

  'Don't you want to?'

  'Why would I?' he said, and bundled the bags into two piles of six. Wrapped them in foil. Added them to his lunchbox. 'Why would I?' he asked again.

  'When you smoke it, it takes seven seconds to hit your brain. Then God caresses you from the inside.'

  'I don't want to touch it.'

  'Takes away your troubles, your anxieties. Makes you feel safe, protected.'

  'I'd rather feel like this.'

  'A warm intense glow in the pit of your stomach. Pleasure radiating throughout your body.'

  'Not me. No.'

  'You feel it?'

  He felt it.

  Maybe a little toke now wouldn't hurt. He could use all the help he could get.

  SUNDAY

  He hated having to work on Sundays. Only done one so far, but the time had passed even more slowly than usual. All he could think of was how much he'd rather be at home. Even with the new alarm installed and locks on the windows and chains on the doors, he didn't like leaving Lorna and Caitlin alone. But he consoled himself with the thought that Watt no longer had a reason to go anywhere near them.

  No reason at all, now that Glass was taking the stash of heroin into the Hilton.

  When he arrived at reception, he said hi to the guys.

  Crogan, one of the older and friendlier officers, said, 'You're early. Don't want to be too keen, you know.'

  'Didn't realise how empty the roads would be.'

  Crogan grunted. 'Sunday traffic.'

  A trustee, Donald Moore, was on duty, bringing cups of tea for Crogan and another officer, Aitken. 'Want one?' he asked Glass.

  Glass shook his head. He didn't want to hang around here. Certainly didn't want to talk to the trustee. Some of them could be bigger sticklers than the officers. Wanted to do their jobs right. Not that there was much to be a stickler about.

  'Go on,' Crogan said. 'Have a cup of tea. Not as if you don't have time.' He offered Glass his mug.

  'Milk and sugar?' Glass said.

  'Yep. Your lucky day.'

  Glass took the mug, nodded his thanks to Crogan and Moore. The trustee looked at Crogan and the look Crogan returned was enough to send Moore off to get another mug.

  This was
just what Glass did not need. He wanted to get through the metal detector and get con-side as soon as he could. Get it over with.

  Normally, he just walked through and headed for the locker room. Nothing to it. He looked guilty, though. He knew he did. He expected Crogan and Aitken could see him sweating. The tea was piping hot, making it worse. His armpits were drenched. He could feel the rough, cold fabric of his shirt rubbing against him. Felt a dampness at his hairline. He clutched his bag tight. Same bag he always took in. Same bag they could check if they wanted but they never did. Not yet, anyway.

  Another sip. Spilled some on his chin. Pretended it wasn't there. Let it itch until it evaporated.

  All they'd find would be sandwiches.

  It'd be fine.

  'You okay?' Crogan asked.

  'Fine,' Glass said. Shit. Crogan knew.

  'Got a drop of tea there.' Crogan pointed at his face.

  'Thanks.' Glass wiped his chin with the back of his hand. 'Yeah, I'm fine. Couldn't be better.'

  'The thought of working with some of those wankers,' Aitken said. 'It's enough to make anyone feel like shite.'

  Glass wasn't sure who Aitken was referring to: the officers or the cons. But he appreciated the sentiment. 'I feel fine,' he said again.

  'Fox'll get his comeuppance,' Crogan said.

  Nobody liked Fox. Well, nobody apart from Ross. 'Not a fan of his?' Glass asked.

  Crogan lowered his voice. 'Between you and me. And Aitken.' The trustee returned, handed Crogan a steaming mug. 'And Moore here. Between us, what Fox needs is a good hiding.'

  'Aye,' Moore said. 'That cunt needs to get his cunt kicked in.'

  'Exactly,' Crogan said. 'Almost as bad as Caesar.'

  Glass went cold in the forehead. Why was Crogan talking about Caesar? Was it just a coincidence? Or did he know something? 'You had a run-in with Caesar?'

  Crogan laughed. 'One or two. Work here long enough, you'll have a run-in with him.' He sighed. 'All in the past now, though. Stuck here in the gatehouse till I retire. Never have to see him again. And that makes me very happy.'

  He sounded genuine. Maybe he was just letting off steam. Didn't look like he was going to push the topic anyway.

  'I really better go,' Glass said, and handed his mug to Moore.

 

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