by Ian Todd
“Ah wis wanting a wee introduction, so Ah wis,” she replied, tae mair derisive laughter. “Whit?”
“Collette, why don’t ye speak tae that best pal ae yers who works in the spook squad that Glesga Polis ur always denying exists.”
“Ah cannae.”
“Why?”
“Because it concerns the polis, so it dis.”
“Whit dis?”
“Whit Ah want tae speak tae them aboot.”
“Ah’m sorry, bit Ah’m starting tae lose the plot here. Kin we rewind a wee bit?”
“Whit’s yer problem like?”
“Ma problem is that Ah hivnae a bloody clue whit ye’re oan aboot…that’s the problem.”
“Geraldine Baker,” Collette said as casually as she could, watching Senga mair carefully this time, no sure whit tae think ae the reaction.
“Geraldine Baker?” The Nurse yelped in genuine shock, before trying, bit failing, tae stoap her mooth fae opening and shutting like a puppet, her eyebrows jist aboot disappearing up and under that blonde heid ae hair ae hers.
“Ah’ll take that as a naw then,” Collette quipped, trying, bit failing, tae slip a bit ae humour in there, starting tae wonder if she’d blown it before she’d even started.
“Collette, hen, Geraldine Baker is the chairperson ae the Rose Bain Campaign Group, the wee deid nurse we’ve jist been discussing,” Senga replied, looking at the bizzy, before staunin up and putting the kettle oan, using hivving tae turn roond tae tap it up wae water as cover fur the fireworks that hid jist exploded inside that heid ae hers.
“Ah’ve, er, heard that she might be, er, wan ae them,” The WPC stammered, trying tae haud things thegither.
“Geraldine Baker nursed ye when ye wur put up tae the wards, Collette. How could ye accuse somewan like her ae committing they kind ae crimes?”
“Ach, who’s being naive noo, Senga? Geraldine Baker ended up getting seven days fur demonstrating in that uniform ae hers in full view ae the TV cameras doon in The Central District Court, alang wae two ae her pals, earlier in the year.”
“They wurnae her pals, they wur her work colleagues.”
“She took aff wan ae her shoes and scudded a polisman oan the side ae the napper wae it. She wis bloody lucky tae get aff wae seven days, so she wis.”
“Look, let’s get something straight here. Don’t come roond tae ma flat, accusing me ae being naive, Collette. You don’t hiv any jurisdiction in here, remember?” Senga growled at her wae a wave ae her finger. “Christ, Ah’ve heard ae subtly, bit this takes the biscuit, so it dis.”
“Look, Ah’m sorry, bit ye wur the only person Ah felt that Ah could approach.”
“Sharon Campbell mentioned tae me recently that Tony Gucci hid brought up that Ah hid a new pal and that him and Kim Sui hid come across me sitting in a French Wine Bar wae her, so she did. That wis nearly two months efter they bumped in tae us.”
“So?”
“So, who’s being naive noo, Collette?”
Silence.
“Ah knew fine well that he’d sussed oot who Ah wis the second he clocked me.”
Silence.
“Whit?”
“Whit ur ye up tae, Collette?”
“Me?”
“Ye’re no gonnae gie me a using, the way youse dae wae other people. Ah’m clean as a whistle and when that man ae mine finally gets his freedom and that evil basturt up there in Springburn finally gets done fur covering up who murdered poor Rose Bain, Ah’m aff somewhere where people like you, the bizzies, gangsters, corruptors who sap the lifeblood oot ae communities, kin aw go and jump in the Clyde fur aw Ah care.”
“Ye’ve picked me up wrang, Senga.”
“Hiv Ah?” The Nurse spat, tossing a tea bag intae each ae the cups.
“Look, Ah really shouldnae be saying this, bit intel picked up that yer work colleague wis connected tae The Showgirls.”
“Look, any chance ae speaking English here and no aw that garbled guff youse people like tae impress us civvies wae? Ah hear enough ae that shite up at The Royal fae yer colleagues when Ah’m trying tae get oan wae ma job ae saving people’s lives.”
“The Serious Crime and Intelligence section…”
“Ae Glesga Polis?”
“Ae Glesga Polis. A couple ae wummin goat caught, baith mad as hatters, aye and vegetarians tae boot, fur squirting Evo-Stick intae the locks ae heaps ae butchers shoaps alang Dumbarton Road and across in Victoria Road oan the south side ae the city.”
“Aye, Ah think Ah read aboot that in The Echo, noo that ye mention it. So, whit’s yer beef wae vegetarians then?”
“Ha, ha, very funny, Senga. Hiv ye any idea whit kind ae people they ur?”
“Principled people who hiv a concern fur the welfare ae animals and who don’t eat meat oan ethical grounds, who insteid, prefer tae eat vegetables as their main diet.”
“There ye go.”
“There ye go, whit? Whit’s that supposed tae mean?” Senga wanted tae know, wondering whit the hell wis gaun oan.
“Who ever heard ae people who only eat vegetables, eh? Obviously hippies, so they ur…and aw middle class, by the way,” The WPC pointed oot, wae a knowing nod ae her heid.
“Ah’m sorry, Collette, bit Ah’m losing the will tae live here. And they prejudices ae yours ur something else, so they ur. Nae wonder youse polis hiv a bad name in the toon.”
“Ah’m no prejudiced,” Collette denied. “Ah wis jist saying, that’s aw.”
“Anyway…”
“Anyway, efter they goat huckled and the local boys shipped them doon tae Central fur further investigation, they found a lead. A wee lead, bit a lead none the less.”
“And that wis?”
“Ye’ve goat tae promise that ye’ll keep this tae yersel noo.”
“Well, ye better no tell me, because as soon as you go and let me get tae ma bed, Ah’m gonnae alert aw The Showgirls wae that Morse code machine that’s sitting under that bed ae mine in a suitcase, so Ah am,” Senga snipped sarcastically again, her heid aw o’er the shoap.
Silence.
“Either spit it oot, or Ah’m aff tae ma bed, so Ah am,” Senga warned her.
“There wis a wee bit ae paper wae a name oan it.”
“And?”
“And it wis yer colleague, the wan that nursed me up at the hospital.”
“How dae ye know?”
“Because they checked her oot.”
“Aye, bit how dae ye know the Geraldine Baker oan the bit ae paper wis the nurse that took care ae ye up at The Royal?”
“Ur you serious, Senga?”
“Ur you?”
“Look, let’s jist go oan the basis it wis her, okay?”
“If you say so, Sherlock.”
“Ah need tae speak tae her, so Ah dae.”
“So, whit’s stoapping ye then? Ye wurnae shy in pouncing oan me unexpectedly while Ah wis minding ma ain business up at the bus stoap oan Keppochhill Road.”
“Aye, bit that wis official. This wid need tae be done oan the QT, so it wid.”
“Why?”
“It jist wid.”
Silence.
“Look, there’s these things that hiv been happening fur a wee while noo…well, if Ah’m honest, a few years…Ah mean, mair than a few years, tae tell ye the truth,” Collette confessed.
“And these things…”
“Sexual harassment and aw that.”
“Aw whit?”
“Ah’m reluctant tae say. It could be dangerous, so it could.”
“Fur who?”
“Anywan who knew whit Ah knew.”
“Look, Collette. Ah’m sorry, bit Ah cannae help ye. Ah’ve goat enough oan ma plate wae Johnboy and the Rose Bain campaign. We’re jist aboot tae launch another piece ae evidence that will prove wance and fur aw that the review wis nothing mair than a smokescreen tae allow The Stalker mair time tae strengthen his dodgy alibi and cover his tracks.”
“Rose Bain’s death wis investigated by the Bishopbrigg
s boys, no Springburn.”
“Ah said, the review. That wis well efter the Bishopbriggs crowd hid concluded their part in the flawed, initial investigation.”
“Ah think youse ur wasting a lot ae time and energy chasing shadows, so Ah dae.”
“And Ah think ye’re barking up the wrang tree. Ah don’t think somewan like Geraldine Baker’s involved wae they showgirl lassies, if they exist, that is. And even if she wis, dae ye think she’d trust a…”
“Cop?”
“A bizzy who’s mair than likely working undercover? Ah’m terribly sorry, bit Ah cannae help ye. Ah’m no the wan tae get involved. Certainly no wae whit’s gaun oan in ma life.”
“Senga, look, if ye’ll let me explain why it’s so important tae…”
“Naw, you listen, Collette,” Senga interrupted her, haudin up the palm ae her haun. “Ah need tae get tae that bed ae mine or Ah won’t be able tae get oot ae it in the morning and a lot ae people, sick people, ur depending oan me tae turn up fur ma work, so they ur.”
“Fox Skulk One, That’s our friend, The WPC, leaving the nurse’s tenement in Barrington Avenue and heading for her car. Over.”
“Okay, Fox Skulk Three. Tail her to see if she’s heading for Lawrence Street. If she is, link up with Fox Skulk Two. There’s a raid taking place, led by our friends The Gruesome Twosome, on a black butcher’s shed up in High Possil at 10pm. The exact location of the shed has still to be verified, so we’ll let them come to us. Wait on the corner of Mansion Street and Balmore Road until further notice. Over and Out.”
“Okay. That’s a copy. Over.”
Chapter Fifty Six
Sharon couldnae help smiling as she looked at the lassies staunin wae their heids turned upwards and their mooths hinging open at the grey black clouds rumbling above The Majestic Insurance Company building, the big office block reaching towards the heavens oan St Vincent Street in the city centre. It hid been five weeks noo, bit still they went through the same routine every morning.
“Definitely thirty-wan flairs,” Soiled Sally shouted fae the pavement across the road, hinging oan fur grim death tae their wan and only umbrella as the wind tore it inside oot.
The lift only went up tae the twenty-ninth flair and there hid been a debate oan how many flairs there actually wur ever since they found that oot.
“Yer arse is thirty-wan,” Betty shouted back. “Ah coonted thirty-two yesterday morning, so Ah did.”
“And thirty-four the day before that,” Ann quipped, as they aw laughed as Sally jist made it back across the road efter dodging oot ae the way ae a Barr’s lorry that hid heided straight fur her, jist missing that fat waddling arse ae hers by a whisker.
“That’s the second time this week that basturt’s gone fur me, so it is,” Sally panted.
“He obviously hates buxom wenches,” Issie suggested supportively.
“Or fat arses blocking oot his line ae vision as he’s trying tae manoeuvre aw that precious cargo tae they thirsty, hung-over customers ae his.
“Where’s that ugly wee cretin goat tae? That’s whit Ah want tae know,” Betty moaned, hitching up her chest, as the rain lashed past the overhinging entrance ae the main door where they wur huddled, sheltering. “Three days intae his employment and he’s been late three times awready. Ah telt ye we should’ve stuck tae oor original decision tae only employ wummin like us.”
“Ach, he’s still in mourning, so he is. Gie the wee gnaff a chance.”
“He wis wan ae the ring-leaders ae the fag-coup, so he wis. He wisnae taking any prisoners when he lured poor wee Nan oot tae that smelly caravan in a field full ae coo-shit and banned her fae smoking. It’s nae wonder she died well before her time wae lung cancer, so it is. Jist keep that in mind when ye’re feeling sorry fur him, Issie.”
“Aye, Ah suppose ye’ve goat a point there, Sally, hen, bit still, he’ll also still be feeling the loss ae being put oot tae grass by they basturts doon in The Corporation efter aw they years ae loyal service, so he will.”
Sharon still couldnae take in the whirlwind ae recent events. She hid tae nip hersel every morning efter getting oot ae her bed, jist in case she wis dreaming. That man ae hers hid asked her the night before if they wur making any money oot ae the new business, The Original Jeely Piece Company. She’d been scared tae tell him the truth. Making money? Christ, it hid turned intae a licence tae print money, so it hid. Efter initially telling the lassies aboot her wee confab wae Tony Gucci and Simon Epstein, there hid been a mixed reaction, wae her and Ann Jackson oan the wan side and Sally, Issie and Betty oan the other.
“Whit? Thirty-five pence fur a piece and jam? Who ur we punting them tae? The patients oot in the loony bin across in Forest Hall?” Issie hid scoffed.
“That’s whit that Simon said we could charge,” she’d replied unconvincingly, no too sure hersel at the time.
“He wis only trying tae be nice, Sharon,” Betty hid chimed in.
“Well, Ah think we should gie it a go. According tae Sharon, he’s awready put in a wee word wae the heid-honcho guy in charge ae the front door.”
“Aye, bit thirty-five pence? Should we no be calling oorsels The Bloody Robbing Sandwich Company, at that price?”
“Look, we won’t know until we try it.”
“Ah’m no convinced. Whit if we’re left wae aw that breid oan oor hauns?”
“Then ye kin go and spend the day doon in George Square wae the scabby doos fur company, Sally. Who else his goat a better idea then?”
Silence.
“Exactly. Ah rest ma case,” Ann hid retorted, sounding mair persuasive than Sharon hid been.
“Look, Simon is sending wan ae his vans up tae pick us up at ten o’clock next Monday morning. Ah’m no gonnae be the wan tae go back and tell him no tae bother, so Ah’m no.”
“Whit else?”
“Whit else whit?”
“Whit other sandwiches ur we gonnae rip people aff wae?”
“We kin dae corned beef, cheese, chopped pork, potted hough and maybe even boiled egg wae a dollop ae salad cream in the middle ae it.”
“How much?”
“Forty-five pence a shot.”
“Ah feel like Dick Turpin, so Ah dae.”
“Naw, Dick Turpin wis a robber, Betty. We’re supplying busy people, who don’t hiv time tae scratch their arses, never mind making up pieces in the morning. According tae Simon, nowan else is daeing whit we wid be. There’s a wee café roond the corner up at the Sauchiehall Street end, the Kings Café, where ye kin go and get a bacon roll, so there is, bit nowan is providing a made-up sanny, delivered tae their desks, so they urnae.”
“Ah think we could make a killing here, so we could,” Ann hid enthused. “The very fact that young Simon is getting us access will make aw the difference, so it will.”
“Make a killing? Aye, well, Ah hope it isnae like the last lot we fed up in Auchinairn,” Issie hid quipped, lowering the tone and silencing everywan.
Oan that first morning, they’d decided tae start oan the tap flair ae The Majestic Building and work their way doon. Issie hid stood guarding the cardboard egg boxes full ae sannys oan the flair landings, while the rest ae the lassies hid heided inside the open plan offices, flogging the grub. They’d taken a hunner and fifty apple jelly and a hunner corned beef, cheese and onion and chopped pork ae Mother Pride’s well-fired crust sannys that first morning, aw individually packaged in wee bags that hid paper oan wan side and cellophane oan the other, so people could see whit they wur buying. Kim Sui, Tony’s girlfriend, the wee darling that she wis, hid ordered a batch ae five thousand ae the bags and hid made up a wee square plastic stencil that hid ‘The Original Jeely Piece Sandwich Company’ cut oot ae the middle ae it. Seemingly aw the girlfriends ae The Mankys, including Ann’s daughter, Senga, and her flatmate, Lizzie, hid sat and dabbed the logo oan tae a thousand bags using wee sponges dipped in black water-based paints, tae gie them a good start. Kim hid taken a run up tae The Springburn Halls’ kitchen and gied them a wee d
emo oan how tae apply it, reminding them no tae use too much water. It looked like the logo hid been applied using wan ae they haun-stamping tools that the lassies behind the Post Office coonters used tae stamp yer family allowance book, using their wee square ink pads. Kim hid refused tae take any money aff ae them tae pay fur the bags. Despite the debate aboot how many flights wur up the office block, they’d only managed tae cover twelve flairs before running oot ae sannys. The last ae the jelly wans hid been snatched up by the time the lassies hid landed oan the fourth flair doon fae the tap. Efter that, everywan hid been asking where the jelly pieces wur, as advertised oan the sanny bags.
“Aw, it reminds me ae when Ah wis a wee wean, so it dis,” hid become a familiar line fae a lot ae the office lassies. By the third day, they’d trebled the amount ae sandwiches required tae cover aw the sales in the building. They’d hid tae make four times the original amount ae the jeely wans. Every single day hid equalled the previous day in that everything hid been sold oot. The best part, apart fae everything being cash-in-haun, wis that the majority ae the office workers buying them, hid started placing their orders in advance, tae ensure that they goat whit they wur efter the following day.
“Right, that’s it. If that ugly wee basturt, Squinty Alex, is no here in two minutes flat, he’s getting an official warning, so he is,” Betty harrumphed, as everywan pissed themsels laughing.
“Whit?”
“Listen tae her. A few weeks ago she didnae want tae get involved. Noo she’s wanting tae sack oor first official employee five minutes efter the glaikit basturt’s started,” Soiled Sally laughed.
“If that’s how he treats good employers like us, nae wonder the auld goat goat the heave-ho fae The Corporation. Ah bet he never goat cash-in-haun fae they basturts fur his labours. How that poor wee Nan ae his put up wae him fur aw they years is anywan’s guess, so it is.”
“Ach it wis easy-peasy. Nan wis lucky. Apart fae digging graves aw day, he wis never at hame oan a Saturday. He wis always roond in the bookies oan Springburn Road, so he wis. He goat wan and a tanner fae Nan and that wis that. Christ, some Saturdays he came hame wae thirty or forty bob oan him, so he did.”
“Aye, well, there’s nae herm in that, is there, Betty? Ah mean, the men folk need tae hiv a wee bit ae R&R noo and again, so they dae. Kin ye imagine being stuck at hame wae them aw day? Yuk,” Issie chucked in.
