Elvis The Sani Man

by Ian Todd

  “Geraldine? Whit’s been happening up at The Royal, hen?”

  “Right, Wee Issie couldnae be here the night tae represent Stobhill nor could Big Sheila fae The Western, bit they’re fine wae me reporting back oan their behauf. We’ve hid two get-thegithers since the last Showgirl meeting. Nothing’s changed wae regard tae the activities ae the consultants and porters we spoke aboot the last time. We’ve agreed tae focus oor attention back oan tae the polis admissions, as there’s been movement there.”

  “Ye might want tae briefly gie a wee bit ae backgroond info oan the issue, so that oor new member Alice here, kin catch up, Geraldine,” The Purple Dove suggested.

  “We’ve been trying tae get a rep fae the polis since The Showgirls started, bit due tae who they ur, ye’ll appreciate that it’s been difficult…trust issues, and aw that,” Geraldine explained tae Alice, as wee wry smiles appeared oan the faces roond the circle. “Anyway, that hisnae stoapped us fae trying tae find oot whit’s been gaun oan within the service itsel, particularly in relation tae the sexual harassment and bullying ae younger WPCs. A few years ago, a female sergeant, based in Central, hid bullied and harassed a young WPC that bad, that she left the force. The reason the WPC hid left wis because she’d been getting hassled by the sergeant fur refusing tae go oot wae another sergeant who fancied her and who wis based across in the Gorbals. No long efter the WPC handed in her notice and left, a newly recruited young WPC wis sexually assaulted in a toilet across in the polis social club in the Gorbals. The perpetrator wis none other than the same big sergeant who fancied the first WPC. Okay, so we’ve goat a repeat offender that management his clearly been ignoring and no daeing anything aboot. Given the size ae the organisation, there’s nothing unusual there, so there’s no. However, ye’ll no be surprised tae learn that the second WPC, who’d been assaulted in the toilet, hid been encouraged by her sergeant tae go oot wae the Gorbals sergeant. Noo, here’s the twist. The Gorbals sergeant is the brother ae the female sergeant, based in Central, who encouraged the two WPCs tae get in tow wae that brother ae hers.”

  “Did ye find this oot fae the WPC hersel and dis that mean she signed a statement?” Alice asked.

  “Good question bit unfortunately, the answer’s naw, Ah’m afraid. We picked up the information fae a friend ae a friend ae the first WPC, who works as a phlebotomist up in Stobhill. There wis an internal investigation intae the alleged sexual assault ae the second WPC, a Francis McFarlane, bit her allegation ae sexual assault wis demolished by the internal investigation team.”

  “So, is the sergeant still operating across in the Gorbals?” Alice asked.

  “Naw. Although they found that he hid nothing tae answer fur, they shifted him oot tae Penilee. Despite us putting oot feelers, baith the WPCs didnae want tae pursue it, probably through fear ae a comeback.”

  “Whit aboot the sister, the female sergeant?”

  “She’d been included in the investigation, bit like that brother ae hers, she wis cleared ae any professional misconduct.”

  “So, Geraldine, hen, ye widnae be bringing this up unless there his been further developments,” The Purple Dove interrupted, aw eyes focussed oan the nurse.

  “Jist o’er two weeks ago, a young WPC, though no as young as the earlier two, goat admitted tae The Royal. She’d tried tae hing hersel by tying a washing line tae wan ae her pulley hooks in the kitchen ae her flat. Efter staunin up oan a stool, she used wan ae her feet tae push hersel aff ae the stool, using her kitchen sink fur leverage. Fortunately fur her, the hook oan the ceiling eventually gied way wae that weight ae hers and she landed oan the flair, bit no before hauf asphyxiating hersel. Luckily, the neighbour below her, who keeps a spare key tae her flat, ran up and managed tae get the rope aff ae her neck. She’s wan lucky lassie, Ah kin tell youse.”

  “So, how auld is she, Geraldine?”

  “Twenty-four. She’s been a poliswummin fur aboot three years noo, Ah think. Anyway, no long efter being put up tae ma ward fae casualty, she goat a visit fae an inspector and a sergeant, and naw, it wisnae the female wan fae Central,” she added quickly, as a few people started tae ask that very question. “Bit ye’d be right tae assume that somewan like her wid’ve been in there somewhere. The reason the lassie tried tae top hersel wis because she wis suddenly informed that she wis getting shipped oot ae her polis station up in Possil and transferred oot tae Yoker. Seemingly, Yoker’s viewed by maist ae the pavement pounders in the toon as Siberia.”

  “And she tried tae hing hersel because ae that?”

  “Aye and naw. The person that wis transferring her wis the inspector who’d arrived up at the hospital wae the sergeant in tow. She’d been hivving an affair wae him, despite him being a married man and aw that. Because ae the stramash she’d caused by her attempted suicide, he telt her that he’d been under pressure at hame, his wife wis a nagging cow…his words, no hers, that his sixteen year auld daughter wis pregnant plus the pressure ae work…anyhow, ye get ma drift.”

  “So, where dis the female sergeant in Central come in then?” somewan asked.

  “The female sergeant wis in charge ae wan ae the two undercover sex teams operating in the toon centre, tackling guys looking fur sex up and aboot Blythswood Square. Baith teams wur temporarily shut doon earlier in the year efter wan ae the WPCs jist aboot lost her life, efter being strangled by a madman. Apparently, the back-up squad wur a bit slow in responding tae her calls fur assistance. Anyway, oor WPC worked under the female sergeant before she wis suddenly shipped up tae Possil. That wis efter the wife ae a chief inspector, a notorious wumminiser, hid marched in tae the station demanding tae know why her man wis being allowed tae conduct an illicit affair wae a young WPC right under the nose ae management. As far as oor WPC wis concerned, that wis the reason why she’d been shipped oot that very day. Also, and here’s the sting, Sally Burke, the female sergeant in Central, wis the wan that introduced oor WPC tae the wumminising chief inspector. Seemingly, the female sergeant wis notorious fur telling aw the WPCs in the sex squad that the only way tae be guaranteed protection fae sexual harassers while they worked undercover in Central, wis tae blag themsels an inspector that wid guarantee them protection.”

  Silence.

  “Oh, it gets worse. According tae oor suicidal WPC, getting shipped oot tae Yoker wisnae jist aboot being put oot ae the way either. This wis aboot getting passed oan alang the line, tae some other inspector tae be sexually exploited.”

  “Whit?”

  “Never!”

  “The pigs,” a chorus ae voices exclaimed, as aw the wummin started talking across each other, shocked.

  “Carry oan, Geraldine, hen. Ye’re daeing fine,” The Purple Dove said encouragingly, as the curses and chatter piped doon.

  “The problem that Wee Issie, Big Annie and masel hiv is that we’re no too sure ae whit we dae wae this…Ah mean, ur we the right people tae pursue this?”

  “His the WPC gied a statement, Geraldine?”

  “Naw, that’s the problem. Whit Ah’m relating tae ye is whit Senga Jackson, wan ae oor spotters who works in casualty, related back tae me.”

  “Aye, we aw know Senga, Geraldine. If Senga says this poor soul came oot wae aw this, then that’s exactly whit happened, so it is.”

  “Oh, Ah’m no doubting Senga fur wan minute, Purple Dove. When Ah asked Senga aboot a written statement, she warned me aff, saying the lassie wis too traumatised, which Ah agree wae, by the way, as it wis me that wis nursing her.”

  “So, where’s the WPC noo?”

  “Gone, discharged, presumably back tae Possil or…or oot tae Yoker fur aw Ah know.”

  “This sergeant, the female at Central. It’s definitely Sally Burke?”

  “Aye, her wae the rapist brother.”

  “Whit’s everywan else’s thoughts?” The Purple Dove asked them.

  “Ah feel uncomfortable aboot this, so Ah dae. Ah mean, whit if this poor WPC attempts tae kill hersel again and God furbid, succeeds?”

  “Babs, w
id The Glesga Echo run wae this?” The Purple Dove asked her.

  “They’d need a lot mair than whit Geraldine’s come up wae. They’ve goat four journalists covering this notebook carry-oan wae The Stalker up in Springburn full-time, so they hiv. Ah’d doubt if The Rat, Sammy Elliot, the crime desk editor, wid release anywan tae investigate this deeper jist noo. Ah’m no a journalist, so Ah could be wrang.”

  “Ah think that wid be the same fur The Evening Citizen. This wee Ned who appears tae hiv been fitted up by the polis is their priority investigative story. There’s competition oan whit paper’s getting wan o’er oan the other wan. Ah also don’t think John Turney up at the studios oan Hope Street will touch it either, unless there’s mair conclusive proof tae show them. We widnae want tae show oor haun too early,” Margaret warned everywan.

  “Geraldine?”

  “Baith Senga and masel agree that this poor sister is really vulnerable jist noo. It widnae take much tae tip her o’er the edge. She telt Senga that if she could’ve goat her hauns oan a gun, she wid’ve shot the basturt…oops, sorry sister,” Geraldine said, apologising tae the nun, who smiled and made the sign ae the cross in her direction.

  “Unless we kin gather up mair evidence, no jist oan whit’s been happening wae this poor soul, bit oan this female sergeant who seems tae be encouraging and colluding wae whit’s gaun oan, then there isnae much we kin dae fur the time being.”

  “Geraldine, ur you, Big Annie and Wee Issie willing tae keep tabs oan this fur a wee while longer, hen?”

  “Oh, aye. It’s hospital related anyway. Ah’ll also speak tae Senga tae see if the WPC’s been back in touch, bit Ah widnae haud ma breath.”

  “Okay, thanks. Come and speak tae me before ye heid aff later, will ye? Right, Helen, how’s the pub trade in the toon this month?” The Purple Dove asked, moving oan.

  Chapter Twenty Four

  “Where ur we gaun?” Lisa Marie wanted tae know.

  “Will we tell her?” Priscilla asked him, as the car sat idling at the traffic lights oan Jamaica Street, opposite The Glesga Bridge.

  “Who?”

  “The voice in the back seat.”

  “Nah.”

  “Ah know fine well whit youse ur daeing, so Ah dae, and it won’t work…and the lights hiv changed, by the way,” she informed her da at the same time as the taxi behind him tooted its horn.

  “She’s starting tae sound like you every day, so she is.”

  “Me?”

  “Aye, you…the way she talks tae me and orders me aboot.”

  “As if,” a voice fae the back seat chimed in. “Okay, Ah gie in, where ur we aff tae?”

  “If you want tae tell her then go aheid. It’s your surprise, so it is,” Pricilla said, fighting tae keep her face straight.

  “Ma-ah!”

  “Whit?” Pricilla asked, smiling, turning roond tae look at Lisa Marie.

  “Ye know whit…ganging up oan me wae him.”

  “Hoi!”

  “Don’t hoi me, deadbeat singer,” Lisa Marie retorted and the three ae them laughed.

  “That’s it.”

  “Whit?”

  “Ye’re definitely no being telt efter that bit ae cheek, so ye’re no.”

  “Arrggghhh, whit did ye marry somewan like him fur…Ah could’ve hid a normal da!” Lisa Marie shouted.

  “Right, we’re jist aboot here, so get yer feet aff ae the back ae ma seat, in case somewan sees the abuse Ah hiv tae put up wae, even when Ah’m driving.”

  “Where’s where?”

  “Eglinton Toll.”

  “Kilmarnock Road.”

  “Ye mean ye’ve taken me away fae Flossie Burn’s hoose, where Lucy Begg and me wur getting tae try oan her ma’s make-up, jist tae show me a couple ae roads? Tell me Ah’m in a nightmare!” she howled.

  “Ach, Lisa, shut yer geggy and stoap being a drama queen. It’s no as if it’s the end ae the world.”

  “And you actually conspired wae him as well?” she accused her ma.

  “Oh, haud yer wheesht, Lisa. Dae ye know where ye’ll get parked, Elvis?”

  “Aye, Ah should get a space across there in Maxwell Place. We wullnae be too long,” he replied.

  “We’re gaun tae see yer da’s new car,” Pricilla telt her.

  “A new car? Da’s goat a new car? Why did ye no tell me then?” Lisa Marie shouted, excitement in her voice.

  “Because we thought ye’d moan like a stuck record, so we did.”

  “Me? Ah widnae hiv moaned if Ah knew we wur gaun tae pick up oor new car. Whit colour is it?”

  “Lisa, we’re no picking up the car the day…it’ll be a wee while yet,” he warned her. “And don’t leave anything sitting oan yer seat where people kin see it. They’d steal the eyes oot ae yer heid aboot here, so they wid,” he said, as they goat oot ae the car.

  “Why ur we heiding intae here? The billboard says there’s ballroom dancing oan this weekend,” Lisa Marie asked, efter they managed tae get across Eglinton Street in wan piece.

  “Ye’ll see,” Elvis replied, haudin open the glass doors ae The Plaza Ballroom.

  “Wow! Is this it?” Lisa Marie exclaimed, looking at her da. “And it’s pink!”

  “Dae ye like it then?”

  “Whit is it?” she asked, staring at the pink and white, two-tone shiny car wae the white painted tyre walls.

  “It’s a 1957 Cresta PA.”

  “Look, it’s goat a white steering wheel…cool! Is it American?” Lisa Marie shouted in excitement, as her and her ma opened the doors, climbed in and sat oan the white vinyl front bench seat.

  “Sorta.”

  “Whit dae ye mean, sorta?”

  “Whit Ah’ve jist said. It’s actually a Vauxhall, bit when it first came oot, the company wis owned by General Motors, which is American, so it wis.”

  “So, it is American,” Lisa purred, pressing the buttons oan the shiny, silver-plated radio, getting oot and sliding her haun alang the fin at the rear end. “Ah love the windaes. Will ye drive me and ma pals tae school in it?”

  “They’re wrap-aroonds and aye, maybe, if ye stoap treating me like a bloody doormat.”

  “Did Elvis drive wan ae these?”

  “Similar.”

  “Dis it shift?”

  “Ninety miles an hour.”

  “So, when ur we getting tae pick it up?”

  “In a few months.”

  “Months? That’s ages away, so it is. Why months?”

  “Because that’s when the competition is,” he replied, pointing tae the wee placard that wis sitting oan a pedestal, announcing tae the passing world ootside that the 1957 Vauxhall Cresta, Britain’s two-fingered salute tae the American car industry, wid be handed o’er tae the winner ae the Scottish ‘Elvis Is The Main Man Event 1975’ final.

  “Bit you said…”

  “Ah telt ye, Lisa-Marie, don’t you worry, hen. We’ll be driving hame in this thing or ma name’s no Elvis Presley.”

  “Will you be the only wan that’s entering the competition then?”

  “See whit Ah hiv tae put up wae?” he asked a sparky at the tap ae a ladder, changing a light bulb, as Pricilla and Lisa-Marie raced each other tae see who could get the tae the driver’s door first, tae try oot the steering wheel again.

  The roar ae the traffic ootside announced the arrival ae other visitors.

  “Teddy, it’s yersel,” Elvis said, groaning inwardly.

  “Aye, and Ah hope that sprog ae yers isnae yanking aff the knobs in that car ae mine. It wid be blue murder trying tae replace any ae them,” Teddy Bare scowled, as a wee mini fat Elvis, the double ae his da, swept roond and stood glumly, looking through the driver’s windae at Lisa Marie.

  “Oh, hello, Lesley. Nice day fur it, eh?” Pricilla said tae Teddy Bare’s other hauf, as Lisa Marie screwed her face and stuck her two fingers up at Baby Elvis through the glass, before returning tae push every button, this time using baith hauns, oan the dashboard.

  “Did ye see that, da? Tha
t Lisa Marie wan stuck her two fingers up at me, so she did,” Baby Elvis whined, exaggerating his hurt ten-fold.

  “Well, jist you dae the same back then, Teddy…she’s jist a lassie,” his Da telt him, as Lisa Marie started yanking the indicator stalk furiously.

  “So, ye’ll be getting aw set fur the competition then, Teddy?”

  “Aye, Ah heard ye managed tae wangle yersel through as well.”

  “Wid we no be better coming back later?” Lesley suggested in that shrill voice ae hers, staunin there tapping her right fit impatiently.

  “Oh, right, here ye go, Lesley. Let’s go, Lisa Marie. Lesley and Teddy Junior want tae try oot yer da’s new car.”

  “Naw, Ah’m still hivving a shot,” Lisa Marie replied, smiling at the fat face pressed against her side ae the car, his Brylcreamed bop crushed up against the windae, as she furiously prodded the buttons oan the radio hard and fast, trying tae push doon the button next in line, before the current wan hid a chance tae pop back oot.

  “Kin ye no see whit she’s daeing, Da?” Baby yelped in horror.

  “Lisa…” her ma warned.

  “Whit?”

  “Aye, well, let the best man win, as they say,” Elvis said tae Teddy, as he moved roond tae the driver’s door. “You…oot!” he growled at Lisa Marie, as a big grin spread across the fat, be-bopped face ae the fruit ae Teddy Bare’s loins.

  “Na-na-na-na-nah!” Baby Elvis squealed, brushing past Lisa Marie before she wis fully oot ae the car. “Yeow!”

  “It wisnae me!” Lisa Marie, screamed, as Teddy Junior’s pudgy haun covered his right ear as he howled in pain.

  “Ah’m so sorry, Lesley, she’s never normally like this. Her thirteenth is coming up soon, so it’ll probably be tae dae wae that, so it will,” Pricilla apologised profusely at Lesley’s back, as she scampered roond the front ae the bonnet, putting her fifties bobby–socks and flat soled shoes tae good use, tae comfort her fat squealing assaulted step-son.