Elvis The Sani Man

by Ian Todd

  “Hello? Is there anywan there?” she’d shouted, taking her radio oot fae under her jaicket. “Hello, Angel Eye, this is Angel Two, come in. Over.”

  “Aye, Angel Two, Anything? Over.”

  “Ah’m doon oan Waterloo Street, Angel Eye. Ah’m staunin at the opening ae whit Ah think is Bishops Lane. Ah…Ah think there’s somewan injured. Ah kin hear her crying oot fur somewan tae help her. Over.”

  “Injured? Over.”

  “Er, aye, bit Ah’m no sure whit the score is. Ah think we might need an ambulance. Over,” Collette hid coughed in tae the radio, looking up and doon the quiet street, as whoever wis up the lane, a female, opened up again.

  “Help…help…somewan, help me,” the echoic voice hid pleaded.

  “Look, Angel Eye, Ah’m gonnae go and check it oot. Over.”

  “Angel Two, you jist bloody-well staun where ye ur. That’s an order. There’s an ambulance oan its way and Ah’ll be wae ye in the next four or five minutes. Over,” her radio crackled.

  “Oh ma God, please…please…somewan help me,” the unseen, eerie cries fur help that sounded like a cat wailing in distress, hid started up again, interrupted by a distant cough.

  Shit. Hid that been the cough ae the victim or fae the assailant, her brain hid demanded tae know, as she felt the hairs oan the back ae her neck staun oan end. Despite shining the beam ae her torch intae the pitch darkness, she’d no been able tae see anything, apart fae a solitary, silver wummin’s sandal, lying oan its side in the middle ae the cobblestones, twenty or so feet intae the lane, the ankle strap hinging loose fae its wee buckle fastening. Collette hid started hivving flashes ae a wummin being dragged, struggling, intae the gunnels ae the lane.

  “That’s a negatory, Angel Eye. It sounds really bad doon here, so it dis. Ah’ll hiv tae go and check oot the situation…it’s definitely a female. Over.”

  “Angel Two…Collette! Do not, under any circumstances, enter that fucking lane oan yer lonesome. Ah’m bloody well warning ye…wait until me or the ambulance arrives. It could be a set-up,” The Sarge hid screamed at her, as Collette turned doon the volume oan the radio and entered the pishy-smelling lane.

  She’d jist aboot jumped oot ae her skin when her big toe kicked an empty beer tin and sent it clattering across the cobbles, jangling her awready shredded nerves. The voice hid also started up again, this time louder, as she’d stumbled deeper intae the bowels ae the tunnel.

  “Hello?” she’d shouted, jumping at the sound ae her echo bouncing back at her.

  Silence.

  “Hello? Is there somewan there?”

  Silence.

  “Ma name’s WPC Collette James. Me and Sergeant Burke here hiv come tae help ye. Where ur ye, hen?” she’d shouted.

  “Help me…Oh God, please help me…he hurt me…” the distressed cats voice hid pitifully wailed in fits and starts, as Collette carefully quickened her pace, cursing they stupid high heels ae hers under her breath.

  At first she’d thought she’d travelled too far up the tunnelled cavern. She’d stoapped tae look aboot, confused, wondering how that could’ve happened, as a wet, moss-covered brick wall loomed up vertically, twenty or so feet in front ae her. Behind her, suspended drips wur landing in a puddle somewhere, sounding like something oot ae that film, Run Silently Run Deep, jarring her awready tattered wits. Looking up, the glow fae the orange streetlights beyond the tap ae the wall hid seemed tae be stealing whit wis left ae the light that wis trying, bit failing, tae penetrate doon tae the darkness below where she wis staunin. She’d shifted her beam across tae the left, where the cobbles veered sharply aff in that direction. The sight that confronted Collette that night wid remain wae her fur the rest ae her life. Under the beam ae her polis torch, smack bang in the middle ae the narrow lane, a figure wis slumped, wae her hauns stretched oot in front ae her, Madonna style, her knees touching each other, bit wae her legs splayed oot oan either side ae her. Jean Harris hid attempted tae shade her eyes fae the beam wae her left erm, as the light fae the moving torch beam glistened aff whit looked tae Collette tae be a butcher’s boning knife, lying discarded oan the cobbles aboot eight feet away fae the injured wummin. Although it hidnae been raining, the victim’s hair hid looked wet and matted. Even in the semi darkness, Collette could see that her face and the whole ae the front ae her dress wis awash wae blood, as she dashed forward.

  “Where ur ye hurt, hen?” she’d cried oot, taking aff her skimpy wee jaicket oan route and wrapping it roond the victim’s shivering shoulders, as she knelt doon beside her.

  “Help me,” the lassie hid whimpered, slumping in tae Collette’s freezing, shivering erms.

  “Don’t worry, hen, ye’ll be okay noo. It’s the polis. Ye’re safe noo,” Collette hid reassured her, while trying tae disentangle hersel fae the erms that wur gripping her.

  “Look, let me see ye…let me see that ye’re awright, hen,” Collette hid pleaded, gently, bit firmly, pushing the lassie’s body away fae her and shining the torch intae the bloodied, sobbing face.

  Collette hidnae heard the scream ae horror that wis emitted fae the back ae her ain throat efter the back ae the lane where her and Jean Harris wur sitting, shivering, lit up wae the heidlights and the swirling blue flashing lights ae the ambulance at the same time as the driver switched oan his bells tae alert her that they’d arrived. Sitting there, confronting her, hid been the sight ae the left haun side ae Jean Harris’s cheek, hinging aff ae her face, like a lump ae flapping dough, fae her ear tae a quarter ae an inch below her bottom lip, leaving the bottom row ae her teeth and tongue exposed tae the elements. It hid been clear, even in the dark, that some basturt hid taken the knife that she’d spotted lying oan the cobbles nearby, tae that poor face ae hers.

  “Er, excuse me, hen, bit, er, ur you Collette James, by any chance?” a voice in front ae her suddenly asked, breaking intae her train ae thought and startling her.

  Collette couldnae remember hivving walked aff the wee bridge tae take a seat oan the vacant wee bench at the side ae the canal. When she’d turned up earlier, a couple ae auld codgers hid been sitting there, arguing o’er Partick Thistle’s League Cup thrashing ae Kilmarnock the previous Saturday. Despite the win, some guy called Bertie Auld, who’d she assumed must’ve been the manager, hidnae been too pleased wae the overall performance ae the team.

  “Er, aye, Ah am, hen. Why, dae Ah know ye?” Collette asked the smartly-dressed lassie staunin in front ae her, wae a toddler fast asleep in a pushchair, as she shaded her eyes against the sun wae her haun, wondering if Jean Harris hid sent somewan doon tae let her know she widnae be turning up.

  “Er, we used tae work thegither, at least, worked oot ae the same station, so we did.”

  “Oh.”

  “Of course, that wis a few years ago noo, so ye probably don’t remember me.”

  “Er, Ah’m sorry, hen, ma brain’s a wee bit frizzled jist noo. Ah wis expecting tae be meeting somewan here aboot an hour ago,” Collette replied, looking aboot tae see if there wis any sign ae Jean.

  “Oh, right, er, sorry. Ah didnae realise that ye might be undercover,” the lassie apologised, turning the pushchair roond.

  “Naw, naw, wait. Don’t go. Naw, Ah’m no oan duty…at least, no officially,” she replied, shifting alang the bench. “Look, why don’t ye grab a seat? It’s lovely aboot here, so it is.”

  “Well, as long as we’re no interfering. Why not, eh?”

  “Look, Ah don’t want tae be cheeky, bit although Ah vaguely remember yer face, Ah’m a bugger when it comes tae names. No exactly the first thing Ah told the panel when Ah wis at ma interview,” Collette admitted, as the baith ae them laughed.

  “Ma name’s Susan…Susan McFarlane. Ah used tae be in traffic until Ah left.”

  “Whit year wid that hiv been then?”

  “Seventy-two.”

  “God, ye must’ve been young. Ye look the same age as me, so ye dae.”

  “Ah’m twenty-four.”

  “Aye, the same
as me. So, why did ye leave then? Ye couldnae hiv been long in the job, if ye left back in seventy-two.”

  “Er, well, it’s a long and complicated story, so it is, ” Susan replied, blushing, leaning across tae the pushchair tae make sure the wean wis fine. “Ah widnae want tae bore ye wae the details.”

  Silence.

  “Oh, er, ye wurnae the WPC that left efter, er, a wee, er, incident in a lavvy across at the polis social club in the Gorbals, wur ye?” Collette asked, haudin her breath and feeling her cheeks flush.

  Silence.

  “Ah’m sorry, Susan. Ah’d nae right tae ask ye that. Furget Ah jist said whit Ah did.”

  “Naw, naw, it’s okay, Collette, hen. If ye’d asked me that a few years ago…in fact, even a year ago, Ah wid’ve been in bits, so Ah wid’ve,” Susan confessed.

  “So, ye’re okay then?”

  “Aye, though it took me a while. Ah felt like gieing up so many times, bit there wur other demands placed oan me that Ah couldnae ignore,” Susan replied, a wee shy smile appearing at the side ae her mooth.

  “Like…”

  “Like this wee terror,” she replied, laughing.

  “Oh, right, of course. How stupid ae me,” Collette laughed. “Duh!”

  “Ach, it’s no your fault, hen. Ah used tae be that way masel. Ah never saw masel being a parent…didnae think Ah hid the mothering instinct in me and then, wham. It hits ye like a beam ae light. Noo, Ah widnae change it fur anything…well, a wee bit mair than ma family allowance coming in wid help.”

  “So, whit aboot the da? Is he still oan the go then?”

  “Oh, aye, he’s aboot. Bit he disnae see him…in fact, Ah’d be surprised if he wis aware that Robert even exists.”

  “Oh?”

  “Aye, he’s the last person Ah’d want near us. No naming the faither cost me a lot ae grief wae the NAB, so it did, bit there ye go. There ur some things that should be left well alane and this wid be wan ae them.”

  “Susan, er, ur ye telling me that the wee wan lying sleeping in the pushchair in front ae us is Willie Burke’s son?”

  “Aye.”

  “Christ.”

  “Let’s hope he disnae turn oot anything like his da, eh?”

  “Bit, Ah, er, Ah thought he’d been accused ae, er, assaulting ye.”

  “He wis.”

  “Bit, Ah, er…”

  “Collette, the basturt raped me, so he did.”

  “Bit…bit, Ah thought…”

  “Of course, he denied everything. Ah wis jist too traumatised at the time tae admit that he’d…well, ye know. Oan the night in question, Ah’d been really drunk and hid staggered aff tae go tae the toilet. Ah kin remember jist sitting oan the lid ae the plastic toilet seat wae ma heid spinning. Willie Burke and a few others hid been plying me wae aw sorts ae drink. Ah hidnae a clue whit the hell it wis that Ah’d been drinking. Ah woke up in the lavvy wae him in me. When Ah tried tae push him away, he jist slugged me wae his fist, practically knocking me oot before carrying oan.”

  “Oh, Susan, Ah’m sorry,” Collette whispered.

  “Oh, don’t worry, Collette, Ah’m well o’er it noo. At the time, Ah jist wanted tae go away somewhere quiet and top masel. Ah’m right glad Ah didnae noo,” she confessed, smiling, looking at the wee boy sleeping.

  “So, whit aboot the investigation then? Ah heard…”

  “Investigation?” Susan bitterly laughed, “It wisnae whit Ah wid call an investigation…me being interrogated fur hours oan end, being called everything under the sun.”

  “So, who wur the investigative officers then?”

  “Initially, it wis Billy Liar and Daddy Jackson before they handed me o’er tae two other inspectors ootwith Central. There wis wan fae Possil and another wan fae Yoker.”

  “No Duggie Dougan and Jings Johnston?” Collette asked, her heid spinning.

  “Aye, that’d be them. Threatened tae charge me wae making false allegations against a superior officer, so they did.”

  “They did not!”

  “At the end ae the day, Ah’d hid enough. Ah couldnae take anymair. Ah jist didnae hiv the strength. Efter grilling me fur three days solid, they then started getting me doon tae an interview room in Pitt Street every other day, well away fae aw youse wans alang in Central, tae go o’er ma original statement. Tae be honest wae ye, by that time, Ah didnae know ma arse fae ma elbow. Aw Ah wanted wis oot and tae get as far away fae that pair ae basturts as Ah could get.”

  “So, where dis Willie Burke’s sergeant sister, Sally, come in tae it then? Wis she no investigated as well?”

  “Investigated? Christ, Collette, don’t make me laugh,” Susan scoffed bitterly. “Aye, they took a statement fae her, probably docked tae bits tae make sure it wis watertight. It soon became obvious by the line ae questioning that she wis the go-between between the investigating inspectors and that brother ae hers.”

  Silence.

  “Sally Burke hid been trying tae get me hooked up wae her brother since the first day Ah walked through the arches ae Central. When Ah never showed any interest in the ugly basturt, especially seeing as he wis eighteen years aulder than me, she became a right bloody bitch towards me, so she did.”

  “Ah cannae believe this,” Collette murmured, shaking her heid, before quickly adding, hivving clocked Susan’s disappointed look, “Oh look, don’t get me wrang, Ah don’t doubt anything ye’ve jist come oot wae, Susan, hen. Ah’ve crossed that bitch masel, and believe you me, whit a nasty, vindictive shitehoose she wis and is. Ah ended up being shipped oot ae Central because ae her, so Ah did.”

  “Aye, Ah’ll always remember that horrible voice ae hers ringing in ma ears. ‘And don’t bloody-well think ye’ll be getting anywhere near any ae they inspectors, either,’ she growled at me. ‘Ah’m the wan that decides who goes wae who aboot here. You’ll be bloody lucky tae get lumbered wae Cleft Mooth Mike, so ye will,’ the stupid cow hid the cheek tae hit me wae.”

  “Cleft Mooth Mike?”

  “Wan ae the turnkeys who’s been scurrying aboot the cellblock passageways doon in Central furever. Poor basturt. Speaks and sounds like Charles Laughton oot ae The Hunchback ae Notre Dame, so he dis.”

  “Ah jist find it so hard tae believe we’re sitting hivving a conversation like this in 1975, so Ah dae. Who wid believe it? Whit an evil cow ae a wummin. Even when Ah worked under her, she came across like a bloody pimp, the way she spoke tae aw us young WPCs, so she did.”

  “Wan ae the biggest insults fur me, even above the actual assault itsel, wis the fact that she thought me and the other lassies aroond at the time wanted nothing mair than tae bag oorsels an inspector. So, whit’s your story then, Collette?”

  “Ye whit?”

  “Ye heard me.”

  “Ma story?” Collette murmured, turning her face away, tae gaze alang the canal towards a V-line ae ducks heiding their way. “Ah…er, hooked masel an inspector…naw, Ah’ll rephrase that. Ah ended up wae two ae the basturts,” Collette admitted, feeling ashamed ae hersel.

  “Oh.”

  Silence.

  “He’ll be upset if he finds oot they’ve been and gone,” Susan said, smiling, tapping the plastic bag ae stale breid wae her toe that wis hinging doon at the side ae the pushchair.

  “She set me up wae Bobby Mack fae the murder squad, so she did. When that wife ae his found oot, she hid an absolutely hairy fit.”

  “Kin ye blame her?”

  “Oh, Ah’m no blaming her. Ah probably wid’ve done the same masel. She turned up at Central and by the efternoon Ah wis papped up tae Possil where Ah ended up in the clutches ae…”

  “Duggie Dougan?”

  “Er, aye.”

  “Ur ye still?”

  “Naw,” she hauf shouted, avoiding Susan’s piercing look, in whit sounded like a yelp. “Efter a few months, he goat fed up wae me and tried tae pap me aff tae that pal ae his…oot in Yoker.”

  “Jings Johnston,” they baith said, eyeballing each other.

  “Susan? W
hy are we hivving this conversation?”

  “How dae ye mean?”

  “Ten minutes ago, ye wur a name fae a few years ago that hid left the force under a cloud and noo we’re sitting here spilling the beans tae each other aboot being taken advantage ae by a bunch ae sexual predators at oor work.”

  “Sexual predators? Ah never thought ae them as being that.”

  “Ye wur vulnerable…we baith wur.”

  “When Ah wis coming up the road towards ye staunin in the middle ae the bridge, looking doon in tae the water, Ah felt a strong urge tae let ye know that ye wurnae alane.”

  “Oh, bit Ah wisnae contemplating jumping…”

  “Naw, Ah know. Bit aw ae a sudden, it wis if a weight hid been lifted aff ae they shoulders ae mine, seeing ye staunin there, deep in thought. It wisnae planned or anything like that. Fur some strange reason, Ah jist felt the urge tae speak tae ye…tae tell somewan ma side ae the story.”