'It's the way you walk and those high cheekbones. You've definitely still got it, Jackie. You don't do online dating by any chance?'
'You're kidding me, right? That's just for the terminally sad and desperate.'
'My thoughts exactly,' said Jack. 'I just wondered, you know.'
'Look, isn't there some way we could make this whole thing just go away, Mr Davidson?' said Jackie huskily, as she edged her chair a few inches closer, so that her knees brushed against Jack’s. ‘Instead of involving all of those nasty policemen, perhaps you could take down my … particulars?’
Annie joined them in the holding room at that moment and after a moment’s hesitation, Jack coughed loudly and replied, ‘I'm afraid not, Jackie. Not this time. We've got you bang to rights, in possession of an electronic security jammer. There's only one use for that and it's all been captured on video by my partner here. So the cops are definitely coming for you this time and it's an easy collar for them. With your record, there will definitely be a big fine, that's a given. And, who knows, if you're unlucky on the day and get a sheriff whose piles are killing him, you could even be looking at some prison time. Don't laugh, it does happen occasionally.'
Completely unfazed, Jackie smiled and replied, 'what can you do, Mr Davidson? It's just part of the game, isn't it? But to tell you the truth, although I say it's a game, shoplifting isn't nearly as much fun as it used to be. I do still get the same old buzz when a raid on a store goes exactly as planned, but it's really hard to get good people nowadays. I mean the youngsters just won't listen, you know.'
Jack looked knowingly at Annie, then replied, 'Yeah, tell me about it.'
'They think they know everything and won't be told. Know what I mean?'
'You're not wrong,' said Jack.
'And the other big problem nowadays is that a lot of the kids have their heads messed up by drugs, so they start to get sloppy in their work and end up getting caught more often. Then I have to pay their fines into the bargain. I tell you, some weeks after I've covered all of my out of pocket expenses, I'm hardly breaking even.'
'Okay, get the paper hankies and violins out, Annie, I can’t take much more of this.'
'Look, you don't need to feel sorry for me, Mr Davidson. I'm thinking of packing it in anyway, because I can't be arsed anymore with all the hassle. I've got a nice frontline apartment, bought and paid for over in Gran Canaria for my retirement. It's got everything I want. A nice big balcony and all the sun, sea and sand I can handle. Then on top of that, there's the cheap booze and fags, all my soaps on satellite television and an endless supply of fit young men. So what's not to like, as they say? They even have some decent local boutiques, where the rich German bitches go to shop, if I ever feel the urge to keep my hand in. You know what I mean?'
'That sounds really nice,' sighed Jack. 'You don't have a spare room for visitors from Scotland by any chance? I've still got my bucket and spade lying around somewhere and I could bring over emergency supplies of square sausage and Irn-Bru.'
'Well there might be, for the right person. Know what I mean, Jack? How about you give me your business card and I’ll send a postcard the next time I'm over there.'
As they left the store and began walking back up Buchanan Street to collect their car, Annie hissed, 'please tell me you weren't serious back there? Chatting up that horrible old bitch, trying to blag a free holiday over in Gran Canaria. It was totally pathetic.’
'She's not that old, Annie. Probably just a few years younger than me, now I come to think about it, and still quite well preserved. In fact, is she not one of the fascinating Glasgow cougars you were telling me about just the other day?'
'Yes, she would be suitable for a date, if she wasn’t a crook and a complete chancer. Men are so pathetic and predictable, I mean the way she was playing you back there. Mark my words, boss, your face will end up splashed all over the front page of the Daily Record. I can see the headlines now, 'Bent ex-cop and glamorous granny share a love nest in Gran Canaria, paid for by stolen handbags.'
'It does have a certain ring to it, now you come to mention it,’ said Jack. ‘But I don't think anyone in the Royal Bar would give a shit, to be honest.'
Chapter 26
The next morning Annie picked Jack up from his flat, for the trip to Edinburgh and a meeting with Henry Dunn.
Jack settled into the passenger seat of the leased Corsa, put his seat belt on and for the first time took a proper look at the interior of the new car. 'It's very nice, Annie, but where's the cassette player?'
Smirking, she replied, 'there isn't one, boss. In case you don’t know, technology's moved on and so has popular music. We're actually in the twenty-first century now, remember?'
'But that's no good,' said Jack anxiously. 'I mean how will we get some decent tunes?'
After being tortured by Jack's country music compilation tapes, when she started working at JD Investigations, Annie had been eagerly anticipating this particular conversation. Smiling to herself, she replied, 'it's simple, we get music by turning on the radio, or by doing this … she pressed a button and Sam Smith started to warble "Stay with Me." She started humming and tapped her fingers happily on the steering wheel in time to the music and explained, 'it's so simple, my iPhone makes a Bluetooth connection with the car's DAB radio, and I can have all my favourite playlists with me while I'm driving. I absolutely love it.'
Unimpressed, Jack slumped down in his seat and grunted, 'Anyway, who the fuck is that trying to sing?'
'Oh, that's Sam Smith … he's really good, eh?'
'Huh … sounds as if he's snagged his balls on a barbed wire fence, if you ask me,' snorted Jack.
'Well I'm not asking you. It’s my car, my rules okay? The driver controls the music, that's the way it works.'
'But …'
'No buts allowed, boss,' said Annie with a big grin. 'So, be a brave soldier and just suck it up, the same way I had to for weeks on end. Remember?'
Continuing on the drive through to Edinburgh, Annie enjoyed torturing Jack with a specially selected playlist, comprising James Blunt, Ed Sheeran, Coldplay, Mumford and Sons and James Morrison. Truly, revenge is a dish best served cold.
After half an hour of stony silence, apart from the music, Jack said, 'look I can't stand this bloody racket any longer. Stop the car, Annie, this is a medical emergency. I need to get out, slit my wrists and lie down in the outside lane to end it all quickly.'
'Okay then, now you know how I felt, okay?' replied Annie with a satisfied grin. 'Trust me, you're getting off lightly, because I suffered your endless crappy cassettes for at least six weeks, when I started working with you. Remember? All of those wailing women and, of course, Hank bloody Williams, senior and junior. Honestly, it nearly did my head in.'
'Okay, I humbly apologise from the bottom of my cassette collection, for any unintended offence caused.'
'Apology accepted,' said Annie with a satisfied grin. ‘I'll put the news on.'
Still on the M8 motorway, a few miles before the Hermiston Gait roundabout, Jack said, ‘I'd never admit it to old Henry, but on a nice sunny day like this when you're driving into Edinburgh from the west, the city skyline is really beautiful. If I remember correctly, it's just around here … yes, just for a moment you can see the Pentland hills on the right, then around the bend there's Arthurs Seat in the distance, with Edinburgh Castle there in the middle and Corstorphine Hill over on the left. It's quite something isn't it?’
'Sorry, boss,' said Annie, checking her rear view mirror. 'I can't take my eyes off the road because I've got a guy who's been tailgating me for the last two miles. It's so stupid when there's heavy traffic in both lanes and there's nowhere for anybody to go.'
Jack looked round and shrugged, 'Oh, don't worry, Annie. It's just the prick in the Porsche.'
'Do you know him?'
'No, I don't know him personally. It's just a type, Annie, and there's thousands of them, unfortunately. I remember reading somewhere that these idiots who pe
rsistently tailgate are showing signs of repressed homosexuality.'
'How so?'
'I think it’s something to do with deriving pleasure from creeping up really close behind complete strangers' back bumpers. Probably a load of bollocks. I usually just blow them a kiss, when I pull over and let them past.'
Five minutes later they found themselves stationary in a traffic jam at the notorious Hermiston Gait roundabout, caused by a minor shunt between a lorry and a white van driver, who had jumped lanes at the last minute without indicating.
‘They do this just to get you used to the traffic jams when you eventually reach the city centre. At least back in Glasgow the traffic flows most of the time.’
Jack could see that Annie was becoming increasingly frustrated by the hold-up and decided to share a secret with her to take her mind off the enforced delay.
‘I've thought a lot about what we spoke about in the car last week. You know, your aunt Peggie’s idea that I should give online dating a try.'
'When you didn't say anything more, I thought you'd just forgotten about it.'
'It came to me the very same night. I had just microwaved a frozen dinner for one, followed by an individual fruit tart. Then I was halfway through singing a romantic ballad to the goldfish, when I was stopped dead in my tracks with the realisation that I'm probably going to die lonely and alone, if I don't do something about it soon. So I did. I registered right away with one of the online dating websites and, amazingly, I started to get some interest quite quickly.'
'You’re a sneaky old dog. Have you managed to actually meet up with anyone?'
'Long story short, Annie, I've been out on a couple of dates. You know me, I don’t hang about when I decide to do something. But I didn't say anything to you before, because I knew you would take the piss out of me something rotten.'
'Nonsense, I'm really happy for you. So how did it go?’
'Well the first one was a complete disaster from start to finish. Not entirely my fault but, suffice to say, details of that particular evening will not be released to the public until at least thirty years after my death.'
'And the other one?'
'That was better. I found this woman that I quite liked the look of. So we chatted online and then we arranged to meet in a pub in the city centre. We had a couple of drinks, then moved on for a nice Italian meal and we seemed to get on quite well together. Then she asked me back to her place for a coffee.'
'Very good,' said Annie, who was surprised and impressed. 'You're a bit of a dark horse, boss. So come on, tell me … what happened then? Was it a Netflix and chill evening?’
'I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Annie, but we did have a coffee and got comfortable together on the couch. Oh, and then she gave me a Hobnob.'
'Is Hobnob a new code word for something absolutely filthy?'
'No, Annie, it's a biscuit.'
'So did anything else happen? Was there any … you know, action?'
'Look, a gentleman doesn't share details about that kind of thing,’ said Jack, coyly. ‘The point is that I thought we had both enjoyed the evening, so I've tried to contact her several times since, to arrange a follow-up date. But she hasn't acknowledged any of my calls or texts. I think I've probably been consciously uncoupled. Or do you think she's just playing hard to get? Should I keep trying to get in touch with her?'
'I don't think so, because that would just make you look desperate. I mean, obviously you are desperate, and so is everyone else who's doing online dating. But the trick is not to show it. Let's face it, boss, you've been humped and dumped and she's moved on to the next warm body. But you're a big boy, so just build a bridge and get over it. Men have been doing the same thing to women since the year dot.'
With the jam ahead finally cleared and the traffic starting to move, Jack said, ‘anyway, enough of true confessions for the moment. I’ll tell you the rest back in the office, because I definitely need some tips on the unwritten rules of online dating.’
Chapter 27
Jack had arranged to meet Henry Dunn in the Southsider, a well-known Edinburgh watering hole, which is located in West Richmond Street almost a mile from Princes Street, in the student quarter.
After doing the introductions, Jack asked, 'why are we meeting up here, Henry? It's not exactly the city centre, is it?'
'True but, crucially, it is still possible to get parked around here. The beer's good, the food's not bad either and it's not full of posers and wankers. Apart from us, of course. So what’s not to like? Look, why don't you grab one of the empty booths over there, Annie, where we can all have a nice cosy chat in private, and I'll get the drinks organised. I'm having a pint of their delicious Belhaven Best Extra Cold, by the way. What can I get you?'
'Sounds good, same for me,’ said Jack without hesitation.
Annie quickly put her hand on Jack's arm and cautioned, 'look boss, you know you're not supposed to be drinking alcohol while you're still on the meds.'
Jack then uttered the fateful words, all too familiar to generations of concerned Scottish womenfolk. 'Come on, don't be daft, Annie. One little drink won't do me any harm.'
One hour and three pints of Best later Henry asked, 'so, tell me Jack, as a true Glasgow man born and bred, what would you say is the definition of a good night out?'
Pausing to take a long pull from his fourth pint, Jack replied, 'it's actually been quite a while since I had one. But, from what I can remember, I always know when I'm having a really good night when I accidently light the wrong end of my cigarette and don't even notice, until I come to stub it out.'
'Well I don't smoke,' said Henry with a toothy leer, 'but my test of a good night out is when I wake up the next morning and find that my pants are on back to front and inside out. Or, even better, if I discover I'm wearing someone else's pants.'
'Just as a matter of interest, Henry, would that be men's or women's pants you're talking about?' asked Annie, smiling sweetly as she tried to edge further away from his wandering hand, along the cramped bench seat.
'Ah yes, very good Annie. I do love a bit of banter. Jack … please, you must tell me where you found this wonderful creature? I've only just met her and I think I'm in love already.'
'I didn't find her. She found me, interviewed me and then moved into the office like a whirlwind and reorganised it, all within the space of a couple of hours. All kidding aside, I consider myself a very lucky man, Henry. I advertised for a temporary summer intern and ended up with the best partner I've ever had. Period.'
Exasperated at the seemingly endless man banter, Annie interrupted, 'excuse me, I've just sat here and wasted an hour of my life that I'll never get back, listening to you two shoot the breeze. Are we ever going to get round to actually discussing the case we came to talk about?'
'All in good time, Annie. This is called schmoozing, an essential step in lubricating the wheels of business. Am I right, Jack?'
'Absolutely, Henry' said Jack, as he raised his glass, with a sly boozy wink to Annie.
Unconvinced, she announced, 'if you two want something to eat, I'll go and order it for you at the bar. Or are you just going to sit here talking bollocks and getting completely pissed?'
'To be fair, Annie, I thought that's what pubs are for,' said Henry cheerfully. 'By the way, the fish and chips in here is highly recommended.'
'Sounds good to me,' said Jack.
As Annie left the table, Henry confided, 'I'm very impressed, Jack. When you told me that you'd recently taken on a new partner, I must admit I was expecting a big thick, ex-copper.'
'Like me, you mean?'
'Sorry, that came out the wrong way. What I meant was, I thought it would be somebody you'd worked with on the force. You know, back in the day.'
'No worries,' said Jack, draining the remains of his fourth pint with relish. As he signalled to Annie to get another round of drinks in along with the food order he said, 'anyway, Henry, tell me a bit more about this job you mentioned in your email
.'
'Oh, I will, Jack. But first, did I tell you the news about a pair of Siamese twins from Glasgow, who have decided to write their life story? It's forecast to be one of the best-selling autobiographies of all time. It's called, "Oor Wullie".
'The old ones are definitely the best,' said Jack, with a smile. 'Boom boom.'
'Okay, I admit that one was crap,’ said Henry. ‘But I've got a better one for you, that you've maybe not heard before. An old granny from Govan was complaining about the high cost of living and explaining to younger family members how her old age pension simply didn't go far enough to cover all of her outgoings. You'll have to forgive my pathetic attempt at a Glasgow accent, as I lapse into character here, okay? 'When I was a wee lassie,' she said, 'ah remember that ah could go tae the shops with sixpence and come back with three loaves of bread, two dozen eggs, six rashers of bacon, four pints of milk, a packet of 20 Capstan Full Strength and six cans of McEwans Export for your grandad's breakfast.'
'Aye,' said her grandson, 'that's absolutely amazing gran. I suppose inflation’s the reason you can’t do it anymore.'
Henry paused momentarily to wipe tears of mirth from his eyes before continuing, ‘granny shook her head sadly and said, 'it's got fuck all to do with inflation, son. It's because of all the bloody security cameras they have in the shops nowadays!'
Returning from the bar, Annie's heart sank as she was greeted with a gale of beery laughter from the booth where her two companions were seated. As she put down another two pints of Best down on the table, Henry was clearly just getting into his stride with the cheesy comedy routine. 'Just in time. I think you'll like this one, Annie. What do you call the Glasgow dwarf who slipped and fell into a cement mixer?'
'Unlucky?'
'No, don't be silly. He's a wee hard man. Geddit?'
'Yes, I do unfortunately. But I won't be getting any more, thank you very much.'
Lifting her courier bag, Annie stood up and fixed Jack with her feared death ray stare, which was accompanied by a stern warning, 'look, unlike the pair of you, I'm bored stiff and stone cold sober. So I'm going to leave you both to it and head off to the shops. That way today won't be a complete waste of time for me. I'll phone you when I'm finished and, if you still want a lift to Glasgow, I'll come back for you. But … pay attention now, Mr Davidson, and read my lips. I'm not going to sit around waiting all day, while you get completely legless. So you better be ready, because the stage will be leaving sharp in two hours' time, with you or without you. Got it?'
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