by Todd, Ian
“Right, Mrs Taylor, jist tae show that it’ll never be said that ye didnae get a fair shout in ma courtroom, ye kin call yer witnesses.”
“They’re no aw here,” Helen replied, efter being ordered tae staun up and face JP.
“Right, in order tae gie ye time tae contact them, Ah’m remanding ye tae Gateside Wummin’s Prison in Greenock fur seven days. If ye need mair time, jist gie’s a shout and Ah’ll be happy tae oblige. Next.”
Chapter Twenty Nine
Johnboy wis fair chuffed wae himsel. He hidnae a clue where he wis and then two things happened at wance. Efter walking fur aboot twenty minutes alang Edinburgh Road, in the direction that the bus hid gone, he came across Alexandra Park. He recognised it as soon as he clapped eyes oan the boating pond, hivving nearly droont in it a couple ae dozen times when he wis a snapper. He wis staunin at the V-junction beside the picture hoose, looking across at the park, watching aw the traffic coming towards him, before either veering aff tae his left fae where he’d come fae or tae the road oan his right. No only that, bit a big BRS lorry wis heiding his way. When he clocked that big red BRS beauty, he prayed that the traffic lights wid stoap it in its tracks. He went and goat intae position. It wis sitting three cars back in the queue wae its engine running. Wan wee look tae his left and right and then he wis up and oan the back ae it, making himsel comfy. Oan the way intae the toon, some lorries that wur heiding in the opposite direction tae him, hid boys sitting oan the back ae them, who, oan clocking him, gied him a wee wave oan their way past. When the lorry hit Castle Street, he jumped aff as it turned left, before it disappeared doon Stirling Road tae the right. It wis great tae be back. Although it hid only been two weeks, it hid felt like two years. He’d missed the sights and the sounds ae the traffic and the black soot-covered tenements. He entered the pishy smelling closemooth oan Glebe Street that he used as a shortcut, tae take him across the puddle-strewn back courts tae the close oan the corner ae Stanhope Street, opposite Fat Fingered Finklebaum’s pawnshoap. A couple ae seconds later, wae the smell ae horse shit still fresh in his nostrils fae the stables, he wis strolling doon McAslin Street, looking fur his pals. It seemed strange tae be wandering aboot the streets when he should’ve been at school, so he kept his eyes peeled fur the school board men, who wur always oan the go, trying tae catch the school-doggers like him. He couldnae wait tae tell everywan that he’d cadged a hudgie back hame oan his lonesome. Efter an hour ae aimlessly wandering aboot the backs, whistling and looking up at the broken stairheid windaes ae the stairwells fur a reply, he started tae wonder if Paul and Silent hid been recaptured. He’d been up at the Nolly, oan the stable roof in Stanhope Street and up and doon Parly Road, bit they wur naewhere tae be seen. He wis jist staunin at the corner ae Taylor Street and Parly Road when he clocked Calum Todd, The Big Man’s runner, whizzing past, heiding doon McAslin Street and running like the clappers. Calum must’ve jist come fae The McAslin Bar, Johnboy thought tae himsel. Johnboy raced doon Parly Road tae try and heid Calum aff, either at Murray Street or oan St James Road. When he came tae Murray Street, he caught site ae Calum disappearing past the far corner, still heiding towards St James Road. Johnboy stepped up a gear and practically ran intae Calum at the traffic lights beside the wee roond Tollbooth building, where the doctor’s surgery wis.
“Johnboy, ya wee manky toe-rag, ye. Ah thought it wis you Ah spotted tracking me. Whit ur ye up tae?” Calum asked him, running oan the spot.
“Ah’m looking fur Tony, Joe and Paul.”
“Ah saw them earlier gaun intae Rodger The Dodger’s wae a big length ae cable.”
“Dae ye know where they ur noo?”
“Naw.”
“If ye see them, will ye tell them Ah’m looking fur them?”
“Aye, nae bother. Look, Ah’ll hiv tae shoot the craw. The Big Man’s waiting fur me tae come back wae an answer he wants fae wee Tam McBride. See ye later, Johnboy.”
“Aye, see ye later, Calum,” he said, walking up towards the scrap shoap opposite his school.
“Aye, there wis four ae them in here earlier,” confirmed Rodger.
“Dae ye know where they went tae?”
“Tae get mair stuff, probably.”
“So, where wid that be then, Rodger?”
“Oh, Ah don’t think Ah’m in a position tae disclose that noo, am Ah?”
“Why no?”
“Because, if Ah tell other people where people goat the stuff they bring in here, it wid make me an accessory tae whitever they’re up tae, if ye see whit Ah mean.”
“Bit, they’re ma pals.”
“So you say.”
“Rodger, if Ah’m wae them, it means mair hauns oan the job, which means mair stuff coming tae you.”
“Aye, well, Ah don’t know aboot that wan.”
“Ah’ve jist spent two weeks in The Grove fur trying tae get stuff fur ye.”
“Aye, Ah thought ye looked a bit clean roond the gunnels.”
“So, where ur they getting their stuff fae then?”
“See, that’s whit Ah mean. Ye get caught and before ye know it, it wis me that sent ye aff tae get it and Ah end up in the clink.”
“Okay, so whit wis it they brought in then?”
“Aye, well, ye see, that puts me in a tricky situation, if ye know whit Ah mean?”
“Wis it some sort ae cable?”
“Aye, well...”
“Ach, furget it,” Johnboy said, realising he wis wasting his time.
Jist as he wis wondering where they’d be getting the cable fae, he clocked them. Rodger’s door wis bang oan the corner ae St James Road and McAslin Street, jist below where the painter wummin used tae live. It wis a good spot tae position a scrappy. It gied Rodger and his punters, who wur taking in knocked-aff scrap, a good opportunity tae see in baith directions at wance, allowing them tae make a quick exit if the bizzies wur oan the go. There, straight in front ae him, he saw Tony, Joe, Paul and Silent, spread oot across Dobbies Loan, dodging in and oot ae the traffic and running like whippets towards the traffic lights where he’d jist spoken tae Calum The Runner. Behind them, hauf way up their arses, wur Crisscross, Jobby and that big sergeant, whitever his name wis, pounding efter them. They turned left oan tae Parly Road. Fur a second or two, Johnboy wisnae too sure whit tae dae. If he didnae catch up wae them noo, he probably widnae find them again fur hours. He leapt forward and legged it up McAslin Street, jist as the four ae them appeared oot ae Murray Street wae Crisscross and Jobby aboot twenty feet behind them. Johnboy couldnae see where the big sergeant hid goat tae. He upped his gears and shot efter them. It didnae take him long tae pass Jobby.
“Whit the...Crisscross!” Jobby wheezed, startled, panting like an auld cranking steam engine as Johnboy ran past him, dodging the attempted grab he made at Johnboy’s collar.
Johnboy soon caught up wae Crisscross. He must’ve thought Johnboy wis Jobby, because in between his wheezing, he spluttered, “Heid the basturts aff up through the backs in Taylor Street, Jobby.”
Brilliant idea, Johnboy thought, as he passed oan the right ae Crisscross, heiding intae Taylor Street.
“Whit the fuck, ya cheeky wee basturt, ye?” Crisscross whined like the skelly-eyed fud pad that he wis, still keeping tae the boys’ tails, as Johnboy veered away tae the right.
Johnboy wisnae too sure if he’d been imagining things as he shot through auld Shitey Sadie’s whitewashed closemooth. Crisscross looked as if he’d been wearing a Lone Ranger mask. His pals wur jist leaping o’er the wall at the back ae The McAslin Bar oan tae the wee midgie dyke as he exited the back ae the close. By the time they landed, he’d caught up wae them.
“Johnboy, ya tit, ye. Run! We’ve goat Crisscross and Jobby oan oor tails,” Joe shouted withoot missing a step as he splashed through a puddle that Johnboy hid avoided earlier, no wanting tae get his feet wet.
“Aye, Ah know. Ah hid tae pass them tae get tae youse,” Johnboy shouted back tae a cackle ae laughter, as they piled oot intae Stanhope Street and th
rough the closemooth opposite, beside Manky Malcolm’s rag store.
They heided up tae the back ae Skull’s hoose oan Barony Street, opposite St Mungo’s Chapel and nipped intae the auld air raid shelter opposite his ma’s kitchen windae.
“Where the fuck hiv youse been? Ah’ve been looking aw o’er the place fur ye?” Johnboy panted.
“Blagging copper cables fae o’er in the auld railway tunnel behind Dobbies Loan.” Paul replied. “So ye’re oot, ur ye?”
“Aye, they slung me oot oan ma arse this morning. How ur ye daeing, Silent?”
“Er…” Silent said wae a smile.
“Ye kin tell he’s jist oot. Look how clean he looks,” Tony scoffed, sitting wae his back against the shelter.
“Did ye jist say ye hid tae pass the bizzies tae catch up wae us?” asked Joe.
“Aye, Ah saw youse heid up McAslin Street so Ah thought Ah’d better catch youse up before ye disappeared again.”
“Ye’re bloody bonkers, Taylor. Ah widnae get too cocky wae they bampots. Look whit happened tae Skull,” Tony quipped, as Joe and Paul jist smiled across at him.
“So, whit’s happening then?”
“Nothing much, other than me and Silent hiv goat oorsels a nice wee palace tae live in. Wance the coast is clear, we’ll take ye roond tae see it, if ye want,” Paul said.
“Whit? A real hoose?”
“Aye, it’s even goat a front door, bit we’ve nailed that up fae the inside tae stoap they bizzy pricks trying tae creep up oan us when we’re kipping.”
“Aye, it’s pure dead brilliant, so it is.” Joe said, nodding.
“Where aboot is it?”
“It’s an empty hoose alang oan Ronald Street. Tae get in, ye hiv tae go up the loft at the tap ae the stairwell and then doon through the ceiling in the lobby. It’s goat running water as well. We’ll take a run doon wance we gie Crisscross and that shitey eejit, Jobby, time tae fuck aff,” Joe volunteered.
“Wis that a Lone Ranger mask Ah clocked oan Crisscross’s face?”
“Naw, we aw thought that as well. Somewan must’ve gied him two black eyes. They’re bloody stoaters, so they ur,” Tony replied, busy looking at the names scrawled aw o’er the walls ae the shelter.
“So, whit else his been happening then?”
“We’ve started tae dae a recce ae aw the pubs and licensed grocers. The Big Man his asked us tae see if we kin get him some bottles ae vodka, whisky, gin or any ae the other shite they’ve goat hinging up oan the optics ae the pubs,” Tony said.
“Whit? Ur we back speaking tae him efter whit happened tae Skull?” Johnboy asked, surprised.
“Aye, he spoke tae me oan Parly Road last week. Ah wis gonnae fuck aff, bit the place wis busy, so Ah hung oan efter he shouted me o’er. He wis oan his lonesome, so Ah felt safe enough,” Tony said, trying tae gouge his name intae the brickwork using a stane. “It wis that pair ae sergeants that torched the cabin. According tae The Big Man, they still thought The Murphys owned it. There’s been a lot ae run-ins between The Big Man and that Sergeant Thompson wan fur a while. Remember, we clocked them jist aboot tae hiv a square go in the dipping yard behind Grafton Square, no long efter ye goat oot ae The Grove, Joe?”
“If ye believe the lying basturt, that is,” Joe said, clearly no convinced.
“Well, it sounds aboot right tae me,” Tony said, turning roond tae face them. “Think aboot it? We’re still here. Dae ye think we’d be walking aboot if he thought it wis us that blagged aw his doos? If he believes that it wis the bizzies that wur behind the loft being tanned, then who ur we tae make him think otherwise? He also telt me that he’s goat proof it wis them, bit that he disnae hiv any hard evidence.”
“How dae ye mean?”
“Ah’ve jist telt ye. He says that there wis other stuff gaun oan, other than oor cabin and the Murphys’ loft getting tanned. He also said that he’s keeping it quiet aboot the loft being broken intae and aw their doos being blagged.”
“Well, Ah hope he disnae find oot that we’re the missing link,” Joe said as they aw laughed, except Silent, who frowned at them, clearly no getting the joke.
“It wis us that tanned the loft and stole aw his good breeding doos,” Johnboy said tae Silent.
“Oh.”
“He says he’s goat some guy oan the case…some sort ae investigator…who’s gonnae prove that it wis they bizzies.”
“Whit aboot that Jobby wan and Crisscross?”
“Naw, he’s convinced that it’s the two sergeants, Thompson and Big Jim Stewart.”
“So, where ur we in aw this?” Johnboy asked.
“We’ve started tae really upset them since ye’ve been away oan yer holidays, Johnboy. Paul and Silent set their wee blue phone box oan St James Road oan fire last night,” Joe snorted.
“Ah never knew there wis a polis box oan St James Road,” Johnboy said.
“Doon at the lights, jist roond fae The Grafton picture hoose. It’s tucked in behind the corner ae the doctor’s surgery, beside the slater’s yard, or it wis.”
“Is that whit that wis? Ah saw the big black pile earlier when Ah wis looking fur youse.”
“And me and Joe hiv been targeting their squad cars, bit they’re awfully suspicious jist noo. Remember when they use tae jist disappear up a close, leaving the car sitting there? No any mair, they don’t. Wan ae them is always ootside hinging aboot. It wis Joe that picked up oan that wan, so it wis.”
“Ye don’t think they’ll claim that it wis the same wans that burnt doon the polis box that burnt doon the cabin, dae ye?” Johnboy asked.
“It wis them that burnt doon the cabin,” Tony reminded him.
“Aye, bit wid that no gie them the excuse tae blame us if we get caught, setting fire tae their boxes though?” Johnboy asked.
“Hmm, maybe. We never thought ae that,” Paul mused, looking across at Tony.
“Aye, bit that disnae mean we cannae still hiv a go at the basturts every chance we get. We’ll jist avoid using matches when we’re hitting them, that’s aw,” Tony said and everywan nodded.
“So, hiv ye been hame yet, Johnboy?” Tony asked him, staunin back tae admire his haundiwork.
“Naw, Ah came looking fur youse first, so Ah did. Ah’ll go hame later.”
“Right, ur ye wanting tae see oor wee palace then?” Paul asked Johnboy, staunin up.
“Aye.”
“Well, let’s go then.”
Chapter Thirty
Helen wis still in a state ae shock. Hauf an hour hid passed since she’d been led back alang tae the cells and she wis gieing hersel a hard time, wondering if she should’ve goat they shyster lawyers, Howdy and Barker, tae represent her. She closed her eyes and shook her heid tae see if she could waken up fae her nightmare. When she opened them, she wis still sitting wae her back against the cauld tiled wall, listening tae the hum fae the pipes. She wondered whit Jimmy wis daeing. He wis probably at work or he wid’ve been in the court insteid ae Isabelle.
“Christ, whit am Ah gonnae dae noo?” she said oot loud, fighting tae haud back her tears.
How could that parasite ae a man, JP Donnelly, sit up oan that bench and believe the shite he wis being telt in court by the biggest lying basturts this side ae the Clyde? Surely even a thicko like him, a so-called man ae the common people, widnae hiv been taken in by the lies that hid been puked oot in that courtroom? Surely tae God there wis such a thing as justice in this stinking rotten city? Why her? Whit hid she done that wis so wrang? Helen could feel the tears drip aff the end ae her nose as she sat there brooding. Ah’m a big-moothed blethering idiot, that’s why, she admitted tae hersel. Why could she no hiv jist done whit Jimmy kept telling her and leave people tae themsels? She hated tae admit it, bit Betty and the lassies hid been right. Whose battles wur they fighting? Who’d asked Helen tae get involved? Who wis she tae interfere? And whit wis it JP hid said? Seven days oan remand in Gateside wummin’s prison in Greenock tae gie her time tae call her witnesses and if she needed mair time, she shoul
d get back tae him. How the hell wis she supposed tae dae that fae a jail cell, oot in Greenock? She knew she wis goosed...and fur the first time in a long time…frightened. She looked up and quickly dried her eyes wae the sleeve ae her cardigan as she heard footsteps coming alang the corridor and stoapping ootside her cell door. Wae the sound ae keys rattling, the door swung open.
“Ye’ve goat five minutes, hen,” the creepy-looking turnkey said tae Isabelle, staunin aside tae let her pass.
“Ma, Ma, ur ye okay?” Isabelle wailed, dashing past the turnkey and bursting oot greeting oan route.
“Fur Christ’s sake, Isabelle, don’t show these people that they’re getting tae us,” Helen croaked stiffly before bursting oot greeting hersel, as she hugged her eldest daughter.
“Oh Ma, whit ur we gonnae dae?” Isabelle sobbed.
“It’s only fur a week. Ah’ll be back hame next Friday. Don’t worry, hen.”
“Where’s Greenock? Will we be able tae come and visit ye?”
“Aye, Ah’m sure ye will.”
“In case Ah furget, ma da asked me tae try and get these tae ye before ye went up this morning. Ah tried tae get them haunded in tae ye earlier, bit they widnae take them aff ae me,” Isabelle said, taking a packet ae twenty Embassy Reds and a box ae Swan Vestas oot ae her pocket.
“Aw, that wis nice ae him. How is he?”
“He wisnae happy when he found oot that you and hauf the wummin in the Toonheid hid been arrested. It wis efter ten o’clock when he arrived hame fae his work. He turned aboot and trooped aw the way doon here, only tae be telt he couldnae get in tae see ye. It wis efter midnight before he arrived back hame.”
