by Ian Todd
“Tony, hurry the fuck up and get tae the juicy bits.”
“We get tae use the notebook tae hit the basturts back when they come fur Johnboy wae mair ae the selective shite that wis disclosed in the papers and oan the news recently.”
“Who says ye’ve goat permission tae use it in the first place, eh? And, ur ye no jist letting the other side know that ye’ve goat access tae the contents?”
“Although Graham Portoy probably widnae agree, we believe it’ll help the prosecution realise there’s nae point in objecting tae the release ae the notebook tae the defence seeing as the contents will be getting drip fed tae The Glesga Echo o’er the next few weeks.”
“Whit makes ye think that?”
“Because the only leaks so far hiv come fae the bizzies. If we leak it, they won’t know where the fuck it’s come fae. The quicker The Crown hauns it o’er tae the defence, the easier it’ll be tae try and charge Graham fur contempt ae court and get the notebook buried fae being used in the retrial. It means they kin blame him fur any future leaks. That’s why we need tae start using the juicy bits jist noo tae send a shot across their bows,” Tony explained.
“Next.”
“We need access tae The Rat.”
“Nae chance.”
“Look, it’s obvious they’re using a contact in the TV studios up in Hope Street. Did ye hear whit that prick ae a news reader spewed oot recently? Everything he came oot wae wis a direct lift oot ae the notebook, so it wis.”
“Look, Ah’m committing tae nothing, so don’t feel Ah’m agreeing tae anything…carry oan.”
“The Glesga Echo his a history ae battling wae the polis and their corruption. This wid jist be another notch oan their belt. Nowan is gonnae be surprised if The Rat starts heidlining whit The Stalker and his pals hiv been getting up tae.”
“Like whit?”
“No disclosing that a witness telt him that Johnboy Taylor wis innocent fur wan thing. Ur the polis no supposed tae be upholding the law fur everywan, irrespective ae who they ur? Look at the Hanratty case? That story is pretty big jist noo, efter they hung him despite his innocence being so obvious. The public won’t agree wae Johnboy being fitted up, despite his background. Kin ye imagine whit The Rat will dae when he gets a story countering the shite that wis in the news recently? ‘Bizzies Daughter in Bed Wae Thug The Night He Wis Supposed Tae Hiv Done Away Wae Tap Glesga Gangster,’” Tony beamed, haudin up baith hauns, swishing the heidline across the front ae The Big Man’s face wae his thumb and forefinger, emphasising the size ae the front page heidline, as the baith ae them cackled.
“Right, hurry up, Ah hivnae goat aw day.”
“Pat’s found oot that his main partner in Papa Fraser’s is Wan-bob.”
“So?”
“So, he’s upset. He thinks he wis conned.”
“And whit the fuck dae ye want me tae dae aboot that?”
“Let him buy oot the rest ae Papa’s share ae the business.”
“Papa only owns aboot another five percent.”
“Aye, Ah know, bit it wid be a nice gesture and wid gie me a break. Ah’ve been locked up wae the whinging basturt fur the past two years. If something’s no done soon, Ah’ll end up swinging fur him, so Ah will.”
“Ah’ll talk tae Wan-bob,” The Big Man agreed, laughing.
“We want tae hiv a real go at Honest John. He still owes Simon fur carpeting his shoap.”
“Ach, ye’re still no oan aboot that auld chestnut, ur youse?”
“We’ll leave it six months tae a year, so youse will hiv plenty ae warning when we go fur him, bit ye’ll need tae intercede wae The McCaskill Brothers meantime. Ben’s really sorry fur whit he done, truly, and Ah need the space and time tae find ma feet withoot hivving tae be looking behind ma back tae see whit that bunch ae black-arsed snakes ur up tae,” Tony pleaded.
“Is that it?”
“Ah’ve made a brilliant contact in the coke trade…a seasoned operator who works across borders aw o’er Europe. Ah need access tae the docks oan this side ae the river,” Tony replied, haudin his breath, as The Big Man’s eyes narrowed intae slits.
“Keep gaun.”
“We need a categorical signed statement fae that ex-inspector fae Paisley, stating that it wis Johnboy that he haunded o’er the package tae, oot in Linwood, at exactly the same time as the bank in Maryhill wis getting tanned. He disnae need tae bring Danny’s name intae it. Wid that be an issue fur him?”
“Ah don’t think so. We paid aff his mortgage efter he wis refused his pension rights,” The Big Man replied.
“Oh, in case Ah furget, Kim Sui gied me four tickets fur the show the night and asked me tae pass them oan,” Tony remembered, taking the fancy gilded envelope oot ae his jaicket pocket before haunin it o’er.
“Is that everything?”
“Baby Huey.”
“Who?”
“He’s wan ae yer doormen and debt collectors in the toon. Ah need him tae come and work fur me…as ma driver,” Tony replied.
“Tony, if Ah find oot that any ae oor personnel hiv been blabbing tae you or any ae yer manky-arsed pals behind closed doors, Ah’ll fucking bury them alive, so Ah will.”
“Baby Huey helped us tae escape fae Thistle Park Approved School back in 1968 at great cost tae himsel. Ah’ve always felt guilty aboot that and wanted tae repay him by trying tae get him tae come and join us, bit he’s too loyal tae youse tae make the move.”
“Nowan leaves us. We decide oan things like that.”
“Exactly, that’s why ye’ll hiv tae sack him first or he won’t come voluntarily.”
“So, is that everything noo?” The Big Man demanded, exaggerating his exasperation.
“Er, aye, Ah think so.”
“Right, so whit dae Ah get in return fur aw this generosity?”
“We’ll take care ae Harding Lennox and take o’er the running ae the cook that’s been bringing the gear in. He kin work fur us fae noo oan. That way, youse kin honestly plead ignorance if and when The McGregors happen tae come bleating aboot poor auld Harding. We kin get shot ae Harding as publicly or as discreetly as youse want.”
“And the independent who set up the rat line?”
“We know exactly who he is and he’s oan oor list awready. Before he goes, we’ll milk him dry fur any useful gen he might know ae. We’ve been getting shot ae aw the local independent hash dealers in the north ae the city o’er the past six months, in anticipation that we’ll be taking o’er the scene up there. We’ll also share oor profits fifty-fifty wae ye fur the first two years and then it’ll be a seventy-thirty cut in oor favour efter that.”
“And that includes aw the shipments wae this new contact?”
“Everything.”
“Let’s walk,” Pat suggested, wincing as he stood up.
Pat hid two choices. He could either wipe oot Tony and his wee band ae Mankys…in which case, he’d lose a good income stream…or let him go forward and multiply, causing aw sorts ae untold grief in the future. Shaun Murphy hid been bleating fur years fur The Big Man tae dae something aboot young Tony Gucci and that bunch ae manky-arsed bandits ae his. Maybe Shaun hid hid divine sight and knew that eventually, Tony wid be the end ae him. If he wis honest wae himsel, Pat wis envious ae the young Atalian. He reminded him ae himsel when he wis Tony’s age. The only difference being, he’d hid his da behind him. Tony Gucci wis daeing it aw by himsel, wae the help ae nowan…nae mean feat in a place like Glesga. Aw that shite aboot keeping his hauns aff ae Honest John fur up tae a year hid made Pat want tae burst oot laughing. Young Tony couldnae keep his hauns aff ae his ain dick, let alone somewan that hid crossed him, fur mair than five minutes, even if he wanted tae. There wis nae doubt he could and wid be a pain in the arse, bit wis that a reason tae get shot ae him? When he’d been sitting playing poker wae Wan-bob and Charlie the night before, they’d discussed their options. Everywan hid agreed that Tony hid some exceptional young wans roond aboot him. Charlie Hastie wis fair impressed wae Simon E
pstein, The Carpet Blagger.
“Fucking ruthless and smart tae boot,” he’d said.
“They aw ur in their ain way,” Wan-bob hid agreed.
“Aye, bit tae hiv the brains behind the brawn is special…and rare.”
“His temper lets him doon. If he could only keep himsel in check, withoot letting loose maist ae the time, he’d be hard tae beat. Look at aw this shite wae Honest John? And o’er whit? A few measly quid?”
“It’s the principle involved though. That’s where this wee crowd ur different fae the rest ae the herds in the toon, so it is. Fuck wae them and they won’t rest until they’ve come back and kicked ye in the baws when ye least expect it. That’s why Ah like them,” Charlie hid argued.
And then there wis Jake McAlpine…another cracker, The Big Man thought tae himsel. Hard working, smart, equally as lethal, as well as being no a bad businessman. Wan-bob hid picked up a whisper that it hid been him who’d been the gunman that goat shot ae The Driving Instructor oot in Kirkintilloch. Well, there wid be nae tears shed there. The Big Man wis always convinced that it hid been that arrogant prick that wis behind his good Horseman Thief Pouter doos being blagged in the mid-sixties, which hid caused his early retirement fae the doo-breeding business. If it wis him, then hell mend the basturt. There wis nothing worse than a low-doon snake who stole another man’s good doos. Wan-bob hid also admitted he wis impressed by the other wan, Ben McCalumn, who wis noo starting tae develop a good reputation ae being efficient in scaring aff any trouble, either before or efter anything happened. That wis the sign ae a real professional in the making. They’d aw agreed that they wid’ve goat shot ae Snappy Johnston long ago, despite his good earning capacity in the goods trains and lorry business. Much too lippy fur maist people’s tastes, everywan hid agreed. Oan the business and income generation side ae things, as well as the jeweller, Pat McCabe, they hid Peter Paterson, who everywan, withoot exception, agreed wis a total gentleman. It wis a funny set-up though. Oan the wan haun, ye hid Tony who oversaw everything and then ye hid Peter Paterson, The Runner. It wis his job tae make sure everything flowed by keeping the demand high. It wisnae how The Big Man wid’ve allowed his runners tae operate. He saw them as being exactly whit it said oan the tin…running messages. Tony’s runner practically ran the business side ae their set-up. Another thing that everywan agreed oan wis that it wis a young man’s game nooadays and the modern ways ae daeing things wisnae tae everywan’s taste, bit if it worked, well, that wis progress fur ye. Everywan liked young Johnboy Taylor, who wis smart and funny, being the closest tae Tony, bit he jist lacked that killer punch.
“Heid in the clouds maist ae the time,” Charlie hid acknowledged.
Nowan could make oot or understaun whit the fuck the quiet wan they called Silent wis or wis supposed tae be. Everywan laughed and agreed that oot ae them aw, he wis the wan that gied them the willies. None ae them could ever remember hivving heard him speak, even though Tony swore he did occasionally. Total psycho hid been the general opinion.
“The problem is that they’re aw o’er the place. Aw they seem tae dae is argue amongst themsels. Ye get them tae agree wae something and before ye know it, they’re fucking upsetting the world wae their antics. Ah’m aw fur democracy, bit if Tony wants tae be aroond in ten years’ time, he’ll need tae take the time tae instil a bit ae discipline intae them,” Charlie hid tut-tutted.
“So, dae ye think that’s how long it’s gonnae take fur The Atalian tae become ready tae take oan some real responsibility then?” Pat hid asked the baith ae them.
“At least,” Charlie hid replied emphatically.
“Charlie’s right. Young Tony allows them too much rope, insteid ae telling them tae get oan wae it,” Wan-bob hid agreed.
“Dae ye know whit the new nickname is fur him up in Springburn and Possil? The General, wid ye believe? Mair like a fucking corporal if ye ask me,” Charlie hid snorted. “Well, The General better get they boys ae his reigned in because Ah’m sick ae fucking warning them.”
“So, how big hiv they become…number wise, Ah mean?” Pat hid enquired.
“They’ve aw goat aboot ten tae twenty boys working fur them, no coonting the legit employees in the businesses they’ve developed.”
“Oan the positive side, they’re definitely progressing the way it should be done…Ah’ll gie Tony that,” Wan-bob hid admitted.
It wis nae secret amongst them, that Pat hid a lot ae time fur young Tony Gucci. He’d watched him grow and although he’d never trust him as far as he could throw him, he admired Tony’s baws and determination tae dae good wae his life. The fact that he’d always spurned becoming part ae The Big Man’s set-up, hid also endeared Pat tae gie him a break. He wanted Tony tae succeed. Tony Gucci wis the boy that Pat hid never hid. He didnae know why he’d never ended up wae a squad ae brats himsel, bit that wis the way the dice tumbled. Ten years? He’d be well intae his sixties by then. Wan-bob, Charlie and aw the rest ae the crew wid be the same, even though new blood wid emerge internally o’er time. Despite the doubts aboot Snappy Johnston and the quiet wan, baith Wan-bob and Charlie hid agreed that they’d still welcome The Mankys tae be part ae their overall set-up. It wid soon be time tae haun o’er tae the next generation. Pat couldnae think ae anywan better tae take up the reigns, bit Tony still hid a long way tae go tae prove he hid it in him first.
“Tony, Wan-bob and Charlie hiv been concerned fur a while noo that ye’ve goat a lot ae loose cannons roond aboot ye. This whole carry-oan wae young Johnboy could get a bit messy. Ah’m no prepared tae get involved in yer troubles if it means Ah end up hivving tae be nipping back here every five minutes tae clean up other people’s shit. If we’re gonnae move forward, ye’re gonnae hiv tae focus oan the income side and stoap aw this wanton violence shite. Violence only begets violence. Times ur changing rapidly and we hiv tae be smart and keep wan step aheid ae the boys in blue that ur churning oot aw sorts ae new technology tae use against people like us. While we’re farting aboot, hurting people, jist because we don’t happen tae like them, the opposition ur developing new ways tae undermine us. People like Daddy Jackson and The Stalker ur a dying breed noo. They’ve goat younger and smarter wans coming up through the ranks. Ye’ll hiv tae keep they boys ae yers in check. As long as ye keep us oot ae the heidlines, then Ah’ll support ye…up tae a point. Bit a wee word ae warning,” The Big Man said, stopping and turning tae face him. “Don’t go fucking crossing me noo, because Ah hivnae goat the patience Ah used tae hiv. Hiv Ah made masel clear?”
“Aye, Pat, Ah hear whit ye’re saying, bit…” Tony said hesitantly, relief evident in that voice ae his.
“Bit whit?”
“That fuck-pig ae a brother-in-law ae yours?”
“Whit aboot him?”
“Mind and tell that prick that if he thinks Ah’m gonnae be turning up every five minutes, like some wee pup, then he’s goat another think coming, so he his,” Tony growled, as The Big Man burst oot laughing.
“Ye know, ye kin be such a prick, Tony. His anywan ever telt ye that?”
“Aye, Ah think it wis yersel the last time we spoke,” he replied, smiling.
“Aye, well, jist you remember that. Oh, and Ah’ll need another two tickets fur the show the night, by the way.”
“Nae problem, Pat.”
“Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.
Sensational allegations that appeared on the front page of this morning’s Glasgow Echo, concerning the police inspector at the centre of the so-called ‘Notebook Affair,’ alleging that he withheld vital evidence in at least three murder cases, has been strenuously denied by top police officers in the city. Glasgow’s Assistant Chief Constable Jack Tipple, accused the newspaper of reigniting a historical campaign to smear the honesty and integrity of the city’s brave policemen, who are out there in all weathers, keeping people safe in their communities. The Assistant Chief Constable also said that he was saddened by what had become of a once
fine family newspaper and that honest citizens would be appalled by the scurrilous innuendo and mischief making on a par with Joseph Goebbels, Hitler’s war time propaganda minister.
‘The Glasgow Echo’s Crime Editor, Sammy Elliot, knows fine well that the inspector implicated in the scurrilous article printed this morning has little right of reply whilst there is a current legal challenge over the pocket service notebook that could drag on for a number of months until a decision is taken as to whether Graham Portoy, a Glasgow criminal solicitor, can get access to it. Democracy and justice have not been well served by Mr Elliot and The Glasgow Echo today…
Hollywood, Madrid and Paris glitter came to Glasgow last night at The Edward Hotel on Buchanan Street as stars of screen and stage, along with a host of international designers turned up for one of Scotland’s brightest and best clothes designers, twenty-year-old Kim Sui. Outside, police cordoned off the street between Bath Street and Sauchiehall Street to allow fans and well-wishers an opportunity to witness the glitterati arriving in fleets of limousines. Anyone lucky enough to have got their hands on a ticket for the charity fashion show, would have been stunned by the array of top stars mingling with High Society Scotland. As the Champagne corks popped into the early hours of the morning, all proceeds from the evening, thought to be in excess of three thousand pounds, are to be donated to Glasgow’s only women’s shelter by fashion designer Kim Sui and young clothing entrepreneur, Jake McAlpine, who owns upmarket Dirty Jake’s Boutique further down the street from where the event was taking place...
Another local drugs dealer in the city has been shot. Timothy Harris, a twenty-three-year-old from Finlay Drive, Dennistoun, is recovering in The Royal Infirmary after being shot twice in the head. A hospital spokesman said that Mr Harris is lucky to be alive. Although his injuries are not thought to be life threatening, after an emergency operation, it is thought that Mr Harris will, however, have lifelong injuries that will require constant care…
