by Ian Todd
“Mr Dunn?” The Sheriff asked the procurator fiscal.
“The Crown totally rejects consideration of bail for these…these black poisoners, your honour,” The Procurator Fiscal spat.
“And your reason?”
“The adverse publicity on the city’s culinary reputation that is likely to put off visitors and the severity of the crimes against the public at large in this, one of the greatest cities in the empire, your honour,” The Procurator Fiscal declared, drawing himsel up tae his full five feet two inches height in they platform shoes ae his, as the sheriff groaned inwardly.
“May I remind the procurator fiscal that it has only been alleged that my clients have poisoned over forty unfortunate guests at this engagement party, your honour,” Abraham Silas slung in quickly, emphasising the ‘alleged,’ anticipating where the procurator wis heiding.
“And for the record,” the procurator announced, reading the wee note that hid jist been handed tae him. “It’s forty-seven victims, and the numbers are expected to rise over the coming days, your honour.”
“Forty-seven people, in a population of three quarters of a million inhabitants, is hardly a crime against the city and humanity as a whole, your honour. As stated earlier, my clients intend to defend their reputation robustly. They will contend that the food that was prepared and served by them at the engagement function, met all Corporation and Government Health and Safety Standards currently in place for the catering industry in the city. Adding additional food to the menu by the clients themselves, who were responsible for organising the function, is not the responsibility of the catering company owners, now languishing in the dock.”
“Objection, your honour. Police and sanitation officers are still at an early stage of the investigation. Mr Abraham’s assurances have no validity behind them until an initial assessment, including laboratory test reports are issued next Thursday, at the earliest.”
“I beg to…” Silas Abrahams started, before the sheriff held up his haun fur silence.
“Right, where were we? Oh, yes. Could the accused in the dock please rise?” The Sheriff asked, peering through his glasses at them as he settled his grey wig back in tae position. “Sally McNair, Elizabeth Smith, Ann Jackson and Isobel McManus, you will all be released on fifteen pounds bail until such times as a trial date has been set by the court. Sharon Campbell, it is your word against a respected police inspector, Inspector Dougan, who denies providing minced meat pies from an independent source to be served to his guests at his daughter’s engagement party. For you, the onus will be to prove that Inspector Dougan did indeed supply the contaminated food to his guests. You will be remanded in custody for eight days, without plea or declaration, and will return to this court, where a criminal indictment, under the Food Hazard & Safety act 1964, will be considered. If progressed, you will be charged with endangering people’s lives by serving up contaminated meat, with the intention of profiting from the said criminal act. In the meantime, other criminal charges relevant to the investigation may be offered up by the procurator fiscal on your return to this courtroom and added to the indictment. Bail is not an option open to me today, but will be considered on your return. In the meantime, you will be remanded to Gateside Women’s Prison in Greenock, pending further investigation and background reports.”
“Ah thought ye said we’d aw get bail, ya bloody tosser, ye,” Betty hid scowled at their court-appointed brief, who’d looked away in embarrassment, before Sharon wis led away, back tae the cells.
They’d come fur Sharon at jist before seven in the morning. She’d lain in her bed listening tae them stomping up the tenement stairs, wondering who’d be up and aboot at that time ae the morning in twos. Efter slinging that arse ae hers in tae the back ae the Black Maria, they’d done the roonds, picking everywan up, wan efter the other. Wee Mary, Issie’s fourteen-year-auld daughter, hid goat in tae a spat wae The Bushwhacker and hid refused tae allow them tae cart her ma aff doon the stairs withoot first allowing Issie tae sit and enjoy her first cup ae tea and fag ae the day. A compromise hid been reached when it wis agreed that The Bushwhacker and that wee PC boy ae his, could join Issie at the table o’er a cuppa, which wis fine, as Issie hid ran oot ae fags, so hid smoked four ae the sergeants while waiting fur her tea tae cool doon. Everywan else doon in the back ae the van hid been sitting freaking oot, wondering if Issie hid taken a pot tae The Bushwhacker’s heid or something. By the time the chimes oan the clock somewhere in the polis station hid struck nine, they’d aw been slung in tae a cell each, tae confront their demons oan their lonesomes. By the time they’d been photographed, fingerprinted and a statement taken by The Bushwhacker, it hid been lunchtime. Sharon hid been the first wan in tae be questioned by Elvis, The Sani Man.
“Hellorerr, Mrs Campbell. Ma name’s Elvis Presley, the Senior Sanitation Officer fur the north ae the city. Ah’ll be conducting the health and safety aspects ae the investigation that you and the other wummin are charged wae,” he’d hit her wae.
“Health and Safety?” she’d asked, at last getting tae the nub ae finding oot exactly why they’d been lifted.
“So far, forty-two people, aw guests fae last night’s engagement party, hiv been admitted tae Stobhill Hospital wae varying degrees ae food poisoning. Although the majority ae them hiv self-referred through casualty and hiv been allowed tae go hame, wae acute cramps tae the stomach and suffering fae severe diarrhoea, six guests are still gieing cause fur concern and ur being kept in isolation. The numbers being admitted and treated ur expected tae rise as the day progresses, so they ur.”
“Ah kin assure ye that any cross-contamination didnae originate fae ma meat, so it didnae.”
“Aye, well, seeing as you wur the only catering company in there, haunin o’er hot food, efter preparing it, then Ah’d perhaps think carefully aboot yer denials and maybe start co-operating wae me and ma staff, Mrs Campbell. There’s naewhere tae hide wance they forensic boys arrive oan the scene, so there isnae,” The Smug Impersonator hid declared, sitting back in his chair, wearing a look that declared that he’d goat his man…or in her case, his wummin.
“Ah’m telling ye, son, aw oor prep work is done under the strictest conditions. Nowan touches meat and then moves oan tae something else unless they’ve washed their hauns. Ah use different boards fur ma meats and non-meat products.”
“The overflowing and congested lavvy pans up at the hospital and in people’s hooses wid beg tae differ.”
“Aye, well, ye won’t come across guilt in ma direction,” she’d retorted defiantly, trying tae overcome her doubt.
“So, tell me, whit health and safety training hiv you and the rest ae yer business partners completed?” he’d asked, pen poised above that wee pad ae his, hivving clearly decided no tae fart aboot.
“Ah’ve completed food handling and food hygiene training classes, as his Soiled Sally, er, Mrs McNair, the other supervisor, so she his.”
“And you kin prove that, kin ye? Ye hiv the appropriate certification?” he’d demanded tae know, disbelief in his eyes, no expecting that response.
“Aye, we hiv,” she’d replied calmly, wanting tae jump up and hit him wae a two-fingered salute wae baith hauns.
“So, where did the training take place then?” he’d asked miserably.
“In the jail.”
“Pardon?”
“In Cornton Vale. The baith ae us worked in the kitchens the last couple ae times we did time there, so we did. We wur put through everything and mair that wis required tae work in a busy kitchen…including handling food.”
“Hmm.”
“That daughter ae Ann’s, Mrs Jackson, wan ae the other innocent wummin ye’ve goat locked up in here? Her daughter, Senga, who’s a staff nurse doon at The Royal, his also come up tae Springburn and gied us demonstrations oan first aid…whit tae dae if we cut or burn oor fingers…so she his,” Sharon hid continued, enjoying the disappointment staring oot at her fae they dark eyes, underneath the shadow ae that drooping, Bryl
creamed bop ae his.
“The menu. Tell me aboot the menu fur the bash.”
“There’s nothing really tae tell, apart fae the fact that Mr Dougan asked us tae cater fur seventy-five, even though we coonted a hunner and twenty people sitting doon, getting tore right in. Despite it being oor cheapest plan oan offer, he still managed tae cut us doon even further than the leaflet price, then blatantly added additional numbers oan tae the amount ae people that wur getting catered fur. That his never happened tae us in any ae oor previous functions before. We spoke amongst oorsels, concerned that the guests wid think that it wis us, skimping oan the amount ae grub being served up. In this business, reputation and word ae mooth goes haun in haun, so it dis.”
“Well, run it by me, anyhow.”
“Right, there wis the potted haugh, prepared by Wallace’s the butchers doon oan Springburn Road and made intae sandwiches by us oan the day, alang wae cheese and ham wans. There wis chicken and mushroom vol-au-vents, nibble hedgehogs wae yer wee squares ae Red Leicester cheese, sausages and pickled onion, hauf sliced eggs wae the yoke scooped oot and refilled wae finely-chopped spring onion, sprinkled wae curry powder oan tap ae the mayonnaise.”
“Is that it?” he’d asked suspiciously, looking up fae the menu in that file ae his.
“Oh, sorry, Ah furgoat. There wis also Soiled Sally’s wee mini sausage rolls. They’re her speciality. Aw the jailbirds and the screws could never get enough ae them oot in Cornton Vale, so they couldnae. Admittedly, the menu wisnae too sumptuous, bit there wis enough tae keep the partygoers gaun throughoot the night.”
“Apart fae the sausage rolls, whit other hot food wis there oan the go?”
“That’s it. That’s whit wis ordered and that’s whit we served up.”
“And the mince pies?”
“The mince pies? Oh, they wur nothing tae dae wae us. They wur supplied by Mr Dougan, the father ae the lassie that wis getting engaged.”
“And ye’re sure ae that?”
“Of course. Ah wisnae happy when some dodgy-looking geezer turned up wae pies, unannounced, oan a baker’s breid board, hauf way through the night. Before that, we’d aw wondered if there wis gonnae be enough food fur everywan.”
“How did ye know that it wis the lassie’s da that goat the pies delivered?”
“Because the pie delivery man telt us. That’s why.”
“And you believed him?”
“Why widn’t Ah? The guy, aw six feet ae him, walked through the whole company, who wur aw up dancing tae some guys making a helluva racket, using the tap ae auld diesel drums as real drums, wae a five-feet long board ae pies oan his shoulder, tae reach us wans in the kitchen.”
“So?”
“So, if there wis a problem, surely somewan in the company wid’ve said.”
“So, it couldnae hiv been a normal delivery tae the hall kitchen then?”
“At nine o’clock at night?”
Silence.
“The parent’s ae the lassie that wis getting engaged hiv denied that they ordered pies tae be delivered. Mr Dougan also stated quite emphatically that whoever delivered they pies hid absolutely nothing tae dae wae him. That also applies tae the loved-up boy’s parents as well. Mr Dougan, who wis paying fur the spread, stated that they jist assumed that the tall man wae the board ae pies wis an employee ae Springburn’s Larder and that whitever he hid oan tap ae that board, wis part ae the menu fur the evening that him and his wife hid ordered fur their hungry guests.”
“Shit!”
“Wur ye also aware that Mr Dougan is a well-respected serving polis inspector across in Possilpark?”
“Aw Shit!”
“Naw? Oh, that’s a pity,” Elvis hid said. “Wur ye also aware that in amongst those who wur poisoned, wis wan ae the city’s maist respected cooncillors, somewan who his campaigned against black butchers…people like youse…fur a good few years noo?”
“And who wid that be then?”
“Why, none other than yer local cooncillor up here in sunny Springburn, Barbara Allan.”
“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Sharon hid cursed, suddenly accepting fur the first time since being arrested that her and the lassies wur well up the river withoot a paddle tae their name.
“Jist a few mair minutes noo and we’ll aw escape fae this tin can,” wan ae the wee escort WPCs informed them, breaking intae Sharon’s train ae thought, efter they’d done their Hawaii-Five-O surfing act fur the last time that day and the bolts oan The Gates ae Hell wur unlocked oan the other side ae the Paddy Wagon, sounding like high powered rifle shots in the night and the familiar sound ae jangling keys and toneless whistling fae inside the gatehoose reached their ears.
Chapter Forty Six
Although ‘Onward Christian Soldiers’ wis his favourite hymn, hivving hid it played by The Larkhall Colliery Loyalist Bush Brass Band, aw decked oot in their finest red, white and blue uniforms at Marge and his wedding at the start and end ae the service, fur some reason, it jist didnae feel right in the present circumstances, hivving a fat, sweaty, clearly hauf-pished solo tuba player staunin doon the front, competing wae Willie fur the attention ae aw the weeping wummin. He should’ve known that fat basturt, Tam Bathgate, wid try tae steal Willie’s thunder. Tae Duggie, the hymn hid always been an inspiring tune, a ‘get up aff yer lazy arse and dae something’ tune, especially if there wis a fine figure ae a tuba player in there in person, gieing it big thrump, thrump, thrump, thrump marching-aff-tae-toe-tapping-war licks mode. He’d suggested using Colonel Hathi’s Elephant Marching song fae The Jungle Book, withoot the words, oot ae respect, of course, bit Marge hid jist burst intae floods ae tears, accusing him ae being insensitive, despite the song being wan ae Willie’s favourites as well. That brother-in-law ae his, Willie Munro, being a notorious money-grabbing miser that widnae piss oan a minister if he wis oan fire, unless there wis a deal tae be hid in there somewhere, hid surprised him and Marge when they’d come across a note in his wallet saying he wanted the good Reverend Macbeth tae conduct his funeral should he unfortunately expire before his three score years and ten. Duggie wondered whit Willie hid oan The God Man, who wis noo shrieking at the tap ae they lungs ae his, waving his erms aboot accusingly, pleading and imploring The Lord Almighty tae strike doon the evil sinner that hid been responsible fur putting poor Willie Munro in tae the coffin that wis sitting oan the trestles, jist in front ae the quaking mourners. At only fifty-wan years ae age, being killed stone-deid by a Bedford truck rolling o’er the tap ae ye while walking alang the pavement counting the proceedings ae a cash sale oan the busy Kirkintilloch Road wis bad enough, bit the fact that the driver failed tae stoap efter he ran o’er the poor basturt, wis a mair worrying story aw thegither. Being hit by a car or a wagon crossing a busy road in the toon wis jist an unfortunate fact ae life in a place like Glesga. Christ, look at the stooshie that seemed tae been rolling oan furever efter that wee nurse wis hit by a van efter finishing her shift up in Stobhill, back in June 74. Bit this wis different. This wis his brother-in-law and the lorry that hid done the damage hidnae bloody-well stoapped, efter mounting the pavement. The fact that witnesses reported that the basturt driving hid hid the cheek tae use his indicator tae turn right intae Colston Road efter slowing doon at the lights oan the Kirkie Road, spoke volumes. Noo, why wid somewan want tae dae away wae a grubby shitehoose like Willie? Certainly no the other members ae the golf club committee who wur aw retired members ae the church, insurance brokers and shoapkeepers. It wisnae as if they knew the full extent ae how Willie and his other two pals oan the committee hid been robbing the stupid basturts blind fur the past few years. The fact that the driver hid felt confident enough tae slow doon and indicate right, tended tae suggest that Willie’s demise hid been a professional job. As far as he wis concerned, there wis only wan team oan this side ae the city that wid’ve hid the baws tae go fur Duggie Dougan and his family and that wis Wan-bob Broon. It hidnae taken him long tae come tae that conclusion. While Bobby Mack and Sally Burke wur scrambling ab
oot, looking fur a motive fur the killing, he’d kept quiet. He knew exactly whit Wan-bob’s thinking wid’ve been. By getting shot ae Willie, Duggie’s need tae put the squeeze oan Black Pat and Blind Bill Campbell fur financial increments towards Willie’s debt wid no longer be required. It let Black Pat and Blind Bill aff the hook and saved him the need tae continually prevent his stupid brother-in-law’s fraudulent exposure by the golf club committees members. Efter he’d accepted that conclusion as fact, he’d been bloody incandescent wae rage and hidnae been able tae sleep fur days. Marge hid put his rage doon tae the stress ae Willie being run o’er in his prime. That hid been fine by him. Brownie points, wherever they came fae, wur always gratefully received. He scowled, as he looked aboot at his fellow mourners. Him and Marge loved tae play the game ae spot the imposter when they attended funerals. Willie hid accused them ae being coffin-chasers because ae the amount ae funerals they attended. Marge loved tae point oot the life expectancy ae the people they knew, efter reading some pish article in The Glesga Echo aboot people who smoked and drank tae excess. It wis quite clear whoever hid written it wisnae a man and certainly didnae come fae Glesga. It wis a pity it wis Marge’s brother’s funeral. She wid’ve been well impressed and pished her drawers laughing at some ae the croc-tears and chest-thumping grief oan display roond aboot them, insteid ae being in there trying tae outdo them aw hersel. He blindly managed tae find Marge’s haun and gie it a wee squeeze. He wis chuffed when she reciprocated, gieing his fingers a wee squeeze back as she tumbled intae another bout ae grief. Personally, he couldnae gie a slippery shit aboot Willie Munro. In fact, when he’d first heard the tragic news, he’d been delighted. Despite whit Wan-bob Broon believed, it meant any dosh being squeezed oot ae Black Pat and they butcher boys ae his, wid go straight in tae topping up his pension pot, insteid ae being wasted oan a fraudulent prick like Willie. He shook his heid. He wis pleasantly grateful that Marge obviously believed he shared her sorrow at the loss ae her brother, as she turned tearfully and looked at him adoringly. Brownie points wur hard tae come by these days, so he’d hit her wae wan ae his ‘breaking the news ae a death’ faces that he switched oan when informing somewan that wan ae their family members hid croaked it aw ae a sudden. He’d won the ‘Ah’m So Sad Tae Inform Ye Grieving Face Look’ shield three years in a trot across aw the city divisions between nineteen sixty-nine and nineteen seventy-wan wae that mournful expression ae his. He’d never telt anywan, bit he’d stolen it fae Spencer Tracy who’d played the part ae a priest in that film he could never remember the title ae. It never ceased tae amaze him how, whit usually started aff as a pleasant wee morning, could suddenly turn intae a nightmare by twelve o’clock. Ten minutes efter the wee cleaner wae the drink problem hid slurringly informed Skanky Smith, oot at the front desk, in front ae everywan, that she’d hid enough and wis quitting, Daddy Jackson hid turned up wae Chief Inspector Billy Liar in tow. Thank Christ the desk hid been quiet enough, wae only hauf a dozen traumatised, bloody victims ae assaults hinging aboot, in various states ae undress, waiting tae gie statements against their attackers. Three Neds, the leaders ae a spare parts car theft ring, aw looking moody and scowling at everywan, while hauncuffed thegither and chained tae the steel ring oan the public side ae the desk, hid been adding tae the scene by screaming how innocent they wur. Although the visit wisnae unexpected, he could’ve been daeing withoot it, seeing as he’d jist accidently shat across the tap ae that requisitioned, fine polished desk ae his, in pursuit ae a big blue bottle that hid been making his life a misery fur maist ae the morning. Tae make matters worse, he’d jist taken an alarming phone call fae his betrothed, innocent wee daughter, informing him that her ma hid been rushed up tae Stobhill efter spending hauf the morning taking up residency oan the lavvy pan efter shiting in their good bed. If that hidnae been bad enough, he’d hid tae shift that freshly carbolic-soaped, scrubbed arse ae his alang tae wan ae the windowless interview rooms that Skanky hid managed tae substitute fur his office, while the wee cleaner wis trying tae argue the toss wae him, demanding that he point oot in her contract where it said that she wis supposed tae clean up shite that looked as if it hid been discharged by a blunderbuss shotgun across the tap ae the said inspector’s good desk.
