by Todd, Ian
“Fine. So, whit’s happening wae Sean’s gambling chips?”
“We’ve put the word oot. So far, there’s been nothing, bit it’s early days yet.”
“Right, well, if there’s nothing else, Ah’ve goat a wee horse tae put oan that’s running at Chepstow, called…and Ah swear tae God Ah’m no making this up…The Bobbing Dwarf, wid ye believe?” The Inspector said, as they burst oot laughing, following him oot the door intae the corridor.
Chapter Thirty Eight
By the time Paul and Johnboy goat back wae their scaffolding poles, Tony and Joe wur baith sleeping. Johnboy and Paul didnae hing aboot either and heided straight tae their kip when they arrived back. Johnboy lay thinking aboot whit they’d jist witnessed. He wondered who the deid body wis and whit he’d done tae be getting slung doon the foundation shaft ae a multi-storey block ae flats. He wondered how many people The Big Man hid goat shot ae in his time. He’d always wondered who it hid been that The Big Man and Shaun Murphy hid hid in the boot ae The Big Man’s Jag, wae his hauns tied behind his back and a hood o’er his heid, the night that Johnboy hid showed Tony, Joe and Skull where they could plank their dosh in the dipping yard behind Grafton Square. If it hidnae been fur the two local sergeants turning up and demanding his release, whoever it wis wid’ve been a goner. Johnboy’d hid nightmares fur years efter seeing that. When he’d mentioned his nightmares tae Tony, Tony hid jist laughed.
“Well, jist make sure it isnae gonnae be you someday.”
Johnboy thought aboot Tiny. The Big Man hid asked if they’d come across him oan their travels? Did that mean he wis deid? Although Johnboy hid wanted tae prove who it wis that hid killed Skull, it hid never really entered his heid whit they wur gonnae dae aboot it wance they found oot. He’d been too preoccupied trying tae find oot if he wis doo-lally or no. He wis right glad Tony hidnae questioned him o’er his hesitation up at the blind water tank. He broke oot in a sweat every time he thought aboot making the wrang decision. It hid been a close wan. If Tiny hid kept his trap shut fur a few seconds longer while Johnboy fought tae make the right decision, he wid’ve passed the end ae the spare rope doon tae the wee murdering basturt. Tony hid been right wae his challenge. Skull wid’ve clocked whit Tiny wis up tae fae five paces away. If Johnboy hid helped Tiny oot, the lot ae them, him included, wid’ve ended up beside whoever it wis that hid been slung doon intae the multi-storey foundations…nae question aboot it.
He wis right glad that it wis tae be wan ae the others that wis gonnae be shooting Mick Murphy. When it came doon tae it, he didnae think he wid’ve been able tae pull the trigger. He hid nae doubts that Paul wid be in there like wan ae The Wild Bunch, aw bullets flying. He lay wondering how they wur gonnae pull it aff. Johnboy wis well used tae how Tony, Paul and Joe went aboot things. Wance they goat an idea intae they heids ae theirs and discussed who wis daeing whit, they usually jist went fur it. Everywan kept their thoughts tae themsels efter a decision wis taken. Every noo and again, whitever wis tae be done wid be discussed and then, it wid be silence until the next bit ae damage needed tae be dished oot tae whoever hid upset them. It hid felt strange being doon at The Capstan Club. While Tony wis speaking tae The Big Man, Johnboy hidnae been able tae stoap himsel fae watching Mick Murphy, pished as a fart, snarling and scowling at the world. Johnboy jist couldnae figure oot whit the benefits wid’ve been in getting shot ae somewan like Skull. Johnboy remembered how Skull could be a nippy wee sweetie, bit he hidnae deserved tae be burnt tae death because ae a bit ae lip. And whit hid poor Elvis ever done tae deserve being toasted? Johnboy hid wanted tae shout at Mick that his time wis fast approaching, bit that wid’ve been a death sentence fur them aw.
“Ah still think the wee knob goat aff lightly,” Joe hid declared oan the way across the tracks the day they’d heided intae the toon efter their wee pow-wow wae Tiny.
Johnboy hid been blowing hot and cauld o’er the shooting ae Mick Murphy. He’d been trying tae convince himsel that wance it came tae it, they’d bottle oot. He turned in the darkness and could jist make oot the dark shapes ae the three sleeping bodies beside him. Deep doon, he knew they widnae mess aboot. He knew Mick Murphy wis as good as deid. Fur the first time since they’d legged it fae Thistle Park, Johnboy realised that life wisnae gonnae be the same fae here oan in. He wished he could change the clock back…bit tae when? He wondered whit his ma wis daeing. He wondered if he ever crossed Senga Jackson’s mind? He hoped Silent wis okay and he wondered where the fuck Skull wis and where he’d come fae. Despite fighting it, he couldnae keep his eyes open and felt himsel drifting aff, still shivering wae the cauld. When he woke up in the morning, he wis oan his lonesome. He’d jist goat the fire started when Tony and Joe arrived back, wae Paul a couple ae minutes later, at their backs.
“We’ve goat a problem,” Tony announced.
“That drunken prick, Mick Murphy and The Goat ur daeing the roonds, demanding the casino chips back that we flogged. Mick Murphy is claiming they belong tae him,” Joe added.
“How dae ye know that?”
“Because Manky Malcolm telt us. They hauf-dragged Malcolm oot ae The Atholl Bar last night and demanded his chips. They then escorted him back hame and he haunded them o’er. He says that they’ve also tracked doon Fat Fingered Finklebaum and goat his batch aff ae him as well. Seemingly, Fat Fingered hid them oan him when they confronted him and he haunded them o’er, under threat ae getting oan his face whit Malcolm’s goat doon the side ae his.”
“Did they gie him back whit he paid fur them?” Paul asked.
“Did they fuck. Malcolm’s demanding his money back fae us, seeing as we sold them tae him in the first place.”
“Well, he kin fuck right aff. There’s no way we’re haunin o’er any money. He should’ve telt that Murphy basturt tae fuck aff or taken it up wae The Big Man.”
“Whit aboot Aleck The Humph? Any word ae him?” Johnboy asked, looking across at Paul, who clearly twigged where he wis coming fae.
“No that we know ae. Alex won’t gie them up so easy though. Him and Foosty will tell Mick Murphy where tae get aff, so they will.”
“Ye better tell them, Paul,” Johnboy said, opening a pint ae milk and taking a sip fae wan ae the bottles that Paul hid turned up wae.
Tony and Joe never said much when Paul telt them the story aboot whit Johnboy and him hid clocked up at the building site.
“Whit makes ye think it wis Humphy Aleck?” Joe asked, butting in.
“We couldnae make oot who it wis, bit it wis definitely Mick and The Goat though. They wur practically staunin oan tap ae us,” Paul replied.
“It seems too much ae a co-incidence. Ah bet Aleck telt them tae fuck aff and that’s where he’s ended up. Fur a few lousy quid?” Tony said, looking at them.
“Ah cannae wait until Ah get that evil basturt in ma sights,” Paul grumbled.
“Aye, well, ye better get him oan the first shot. He might be a drunken basturt, bit he’ll be nae pushover either,” Tony warned him.
“So, how hiv ye goat oan wae another den?” Johnboy asked, changing the subject.
“Good. We’ve goat a nice wee tap flair, wan-bedroom hoose roond in John Street. It’s the first close, jist up fae The Band Ae Hope building…the wan right next tae the hairdressing college’s wee car park. It means that if we hiv tae get oot ae here in a hurry, we’ve no goat far tae hike. They’ll still be coming through the door and we’ll be tucked up in a bed ae warm coats, so we will,” Joe laughed.
“Oh…and another thing…they’ve found Tiny,” Paul said.
“Eh?”
“How dae ye know that then?”
“Ah jist bumped intae Gabby Maggie up oan Grafton Square. She telt me that they wur aw gabbing aboot it in Curley’s earlier oan. ‘Floating face doon, deid in the invisible water tank, he wis. He wis so embarrassed aboot being a midget wae a club fit, that insteid ae gaun fur a swim up in the Toonheid Baths like everywan else, he chose tae go fur a swim up in that tank oan his lonesome every week, tae h
ide that shame ae his, so he did,’ she said. Ah found it hard no tae pish masel laughing at the shite she wis coming oot wae,” Paul said, laughing.
“Fuck, it’s aw happening the day.”
“So, whit ur we gonnae dae wae the rest ae the casino chips then?” Paul asked, looking across at Tony, who jist shrugged his shoulders. “Nowan will take them noo that the word’s oot that Mick Murphy is tracking them doon,”
“When ur ye heiding back doon tae Erchie The Basturts, Tony?” Johnboy asked.
“Me and Tony ur heiding doon there this efternoon,” Paul said.
“Why don’t ye see if he’ll take them? There’s no way Mick Murphy wid even try tae take them aff ae somewan like him.”
“See, Johnboy, ye’re no as daft as everywan thinks ye ur,” Paul said, a big grin spreading across his coupon.
“Nice wan, Johnboy. Okay, who’s fur a game ae Bella?” Tony asked, as they took their seats and Joe started shuffling the cards.
Chapter Thirty Nine
“Right, Mick, spit it oot, and this better be fucking good,” The Big Man demanded, looking up fae his Racing Times, clearly pissed aff.
“Whit?” replied Mick.
“Mick, don’t fuck aboot noo. Fat Fingered wis roond here this morning, bleating like a stuck pig that ye blagged his casino chips aff ae him,” Shaun Murphy snarled at his brother.
“And whit hiv Ah been telling ye aboot the drink, eh? Ah don’t want an alky who’s drunk aw the time, looking efter ma business interests. They make too many mistakes that end up coming back tae bite me,” The Big Man scowled, looking o’er at Shaun and Danny in disgust.
“They wee manky fuckers ripped us aff.”
“Whit wee manky fuckers?”
“The Atalian and his mates.”
“Whit the hell his this tae dae wae them?” The Big Man demanded, looking between the brothers, wondering if he wis missing a trick.
“There wis five hunner quid’s worth ae Chevalier chips in that briefcase. The bizzies hiv put the word oot oan the street that they want them back,” Mick slurred.
Silence.
“So, whit the fuck his that goat tae dae wae us then?” Wan-bob Broon finally asked him.
“Ah deliberately asked that greaser basturt when he wis roond here wae Carrot Heid whit else wis in that case and he body-swerved me. Ye saw it yersel, Pat.”
“Ah bloody-well made it clear tae them that whitever else wis in that case, apart fae whit we wur efter, wid be none ae oor bloody business. Of course he body-swerved ye, ya dumpling, ye. Ah wid’ve done the same. If the bizzies ur looking fur the chips, then it’s obviously a smoke screen. They’re trying tae get tae whoever’s in possession ae the blue folder, which is us, ya fucking eejit, ye. Noo, wae you poking aboot, ripping everywan aff, they’ll find oot that it wis us. Ur ye fucking stupid or whit?” The Big Man raged, face ashen.
“Er, Ah’m sorry, Pat…Ah didnae think.”
“Naw, ye didnae fucking think, did ye? It cost me a bloody fortune tae get the nod that that blue folder wid be in Sean Smith’s car. Ah’ve been waiting patiently fur o’er three years tae get that basturt fur whit he did tae me and ma good doos. That basturt’s responsible fur putting ma da intae an early grave, so he is. He probably thinks Ah’ve forgotten aw aboot it. Right, here’s whit ye’re gonnae dae. Ye’re gonnae haun they chips back tae Fat Fingered the day…this efternoon…and ye’re fucking gonnae say sorry while ye’re at it. Who else did ye take them aff ae?”
“Manky Malcolm hid fifty quid’s worth.”
“He gets his chips back the day as well. Keep gaun,” The Big Man growled, snapping his fingers impatiently.
“Aleck The Humph hid the same.”
“He gets his back as well.”
“Er, there might be a problem there, Pat,” Mick slurred, looking miserable.
“Problem?”
“Er, masel and The Goat managed tae get a haud ae that humph ae his last night and he started tae get a bit lippy.”
“And?”
“Well, Ah cannae remember exactly which wan ae us done it, bit we must’ve skelped him a bit too hard because he went doon like a sack ae coal and whacked his heid aff ae the pavement.”
“So?”
“So, well, the selfish basturt went and died oan us, didn’t he?”
“Ur ye trying tae tell me that yersel and that big glaikit lump ae shite, staunin o’er there at the door, snuffed oot Aleck The Humph fur fifty quid’s worth ae casino chips?” The Big Man asked incredulously, haudin his erms oot in wonder.
“Er, aye,” Mick admitted, as The Big Man launched himsel at him, catching him oan the side ae the heid wae his fist, sending him reeling backwards oan tae his back oan the carpeted flair.
Danny, Shaun and Wan-bob Broon jumped in and pulled The Big Man back.
“Whit the fuck did ye dae wae the body, Goat?” The Big Man snarled, looking across at his driver, gieing his shirt collar a wee tug tae straighten it back tae where it wis before he knocked Mick oot.
“We dumped him in the foundations ae that new multi-storey they’re starting tae build up in Montrose Street late last night.”
“Did anywan see ye?”
“Naw. It wis late oan. We checked the place o’er before we took the stiff in. Ah took a run up there this morning and they wur pouring concrete intae the hole wae cement trucks. Even if anywan knew there wis a body in there, there’s no way they’ll ever get it oot. Maybe in aboot fifty years fae noo when they knock it doon.”
“Right, listen up, Shaun, and listen good. It’s Tiny’s funeral at St Mungo’s Chapel oan Friday. Yer brother fucking-well better be sober when he turns up or ye’re finished. Hiv Ah made masel clear?” The Big Man snarled, stepping o’er the unconscious Mick and heiding fur the exit, closely followed by The Goat.
Before he reached the door, The Big Man turned tae face the brothers.
“And another fucking thing…if Foosty Taylor ever finds oot that that brother ae yers done in her man, even Ah won’t be able tae save him.”
Chapter Forty
It wis a new dawn and a new day. A wintry sun wis oot and Johnboy hid jist clocked his ma sauntering intae Sherbet’s fae the windae.
“Why don’t ye nip doon and speak tae her, Johnboy. Ye might no get another chance efter the day,” Tony suggested.
“It’s too risky,” Johnboy replied, looking doon at the shoap front.
“Naw, it’s no. Oan ye go,” Tony nudged him encouragingly.
Johnboy looked roond. Joe wis making the fire and Paul wis fiddling wae the knob oan the radio.
“Dae ye think so?”
“Aye, oan ye go.”
“Hello, Ma,” Johnboy said, startling her as she came level wae the closemooth in Grafton Street.
“Johnboy?” she exclaimed, looking aboot her like a frightened rabbit, before nipping intae the closemooth.
“Ah’m sorry Ah gied ye a fright.”
“A fright? Fur Christ’s sake, Johnboy. Me and yer da hiv been sick wae worry,” she said, patting doon a stray tuft ae his hair, a worried look oan her face.
“Aye, Ah’m sorry.”
“Where the hell hiv ye been?”
“Ach, ye know…”
“How ur ye daeing? Ur ye okay?”
“Ah’m fine. Ah jist wanted tae say hello.”
“Christ, whit the hell happened tae yer front tooth?”
“It goat knocked oot when Ah wis playing fitba,” he lied.
“Where ur ye staying?”
Silence.
“Ye’ll need tae come hame wae me…right this minute,” she demanded, making tae heid oot the close, bit stoapping when she realised he wisnae gaun anywhere wae her.
“Johnboy, the polis hiv been turning the place upside doon, looking fur ye.”
“Aye, well, that’ll be nothing new then,” he replied.
“Look, it’s okay. We won’t haun ye in tae the authorities.”
“Ah cannae. Ah’m wae ma pals. Ah hiv tae stay wae th
em.”
“Why?” she demanded, before starting tae greet.
“Because that’s whit Ah hiv tae dae. If Ah go hame wae you, the polis will only hassle you and Da and ye’ll end up back in the jail,” Johnboy said gently.
“Ah’m scared ae whit they’ll dae tae ye when they eventually catch up wae ye, which they will.”
“Ah’m fourteen noo.”
“No tae me ye urnae.”
“So, whit’s happening at hame then?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yer granny and granda wur asking efter ye. They’ve moved intae the new flats up in Sighthill,” she said, sounding confused.
“Ah noticed their auld building his been knocked doon oan Murray Street. There won’t be anything left in the Toonheid soon.”
“Well, ye look as if ye’ve been eating…that’s something, at least,” she said, clearly back in control.
“How ur ye daeing? How’s ma da?”
“Fine…we’re baith fine. Yer da his jist bought a wee Morris eleven hunner. We hid a run doon tae Loch Lomond a few weeks back. It broke doon twice oan either side ae Dumbarton, bit he managed tae get it started again,” she said, a faint smile appearing oan her face.
“Look, Ah cannae hing aboot. Ah’ll need tae go,” Johnboy said, feeling really shite fur aw the grief he’d gied her o’er the years.
“Bit…”
“Ma, don’t start…please.”
“Ur we okay tae cuddle then?” she asked bitterly, eyes filling up again.
“Aye, Ah think that’s allowed,” he said, smiling, feeling the tears welling up in his eyes as they put their erms roond each other.
Johnboy took a deep breath. She smelled ae Sunlight soap which took him back tae when he wis a wee snapper.
“Johnboy, we…er…we’re being shifted oot. They’re knocking aw the tenements doon roond aboot us,” she said, haudin him oot in front ae her.
“Where ur ye moving tae?”
