Elvis The Sani Man

by Ian Todd

“Closer to God,” she’d quipped.

  “Geraldine, come in, come in,” she hailed in that Southern Irish accent ae hers, staunin aside tae let her scurry past as the heavens opened up further and the rain started lashing doon even heavier than it hid been when she’d left the warmth ae her flat.

  “Brrr, it’s bloody freezing, so it is, Sister Liz…oops, sorry,” Geraldine apologised, as the nun laughed, motioning her forward towards the back ae the hallway and the stairs leading up tae Mount Olive.

  “I take it you’ve got it?” The Nun asked, her eyes shining in anticipation, lighting the gas cooker in the corner and placing a teapot oan tap ae the ring.

  “Aye. Ah didnae realise how heavy it wid be. When The Purple Dove gied it tae me, she telt me that she’d nearly fainted when she read the sticker oan the front. Look.” Geraldine said, haudin up the thick file wae baith hauns towards the nun.

  “Good gracious.”

  “Aye, fae whit she telt me, that wis her reaction tae, bit Ah don’t think her choice ae words wur the same as yours,” she replied, as they baith chuckled.

  “Have you had a chance to go through any of the contents,” The Nun asked, placing the China cups and teapot doon between them, looking at the thick file.

  “Naw, Ah jist picked it up oan the way hame fae The Royal. Ah wis scared tae look inside oan ma ain. Ah wisnae too sure where tae start, so Ah wisnae,” Geraldine replied, as the two ae them sat under the flickering lights wae their hissing gas mantles oan either side ae the mantelpiece.

  Above the fireplace, a print ae The Virgin Mary looked encouragingly doon at them.

  “Ah wonder whit she’d think ae this, us, sitting here wae a stolen polis file,” Geraldine said, nodding at the picture, sipping her tea, as the nun sat fingering her rosary, seemingly lost in her ain thoughts.

  The baith ae them sat staring at the partly exposed letterheid ae a typewritten letter that announced that until earlier in the day, hid been the property ae Strathclyde Polis.

  “She was a smart woman. She had to be. There was no second chances for women in those days,” The Nun murmured, closing her eyes, her lips silently reciting the words ae a prayer.

  Silence.

  “So, where dae we start then?” Geraldine asked, patiently waiting, as the nun opened her eyes and gied her a wee smile.

  “Where do we start? I suppose at the beginning, Geraldine,” she replied, flipping open the cover as Geraldine bent o’er and lifted her notepad and pencil oot ae her shoulder bag.

  Chapter Seventy

  Friday 24th October

  6.00 AM

  It hid been unusual tae get a message o’er the radio at five-thirty in the morning fae the station informing her that somewan, a relative, hid been trying tae get in touch wae her.

  “Naw, she never left a message,” Dave McGovern’s crackly voice hid growled at her o’er the radio. “She said she’d phone back aboot six.”

  She’d been up dealing wae a domestic at the tap end ae Stonyhurst Street at the corner ae Byshot Street, jist opposite the auld Cowlairs works. She’d been up there since three o’clock efter the first call hid come in at twenty past two. The Black Maria hid jist disappeared doon the road towards Saracen Street wae Bob Harry, a well-known booze-bag who’d been in and oot ae the nick fur attacking his wife every time he hid a bucket in him. She’d eventually hid tae radio doon fur reinforcements wance he lifted his hauns tae her. Efter helping Sally tae put her man tae bed earlier, she’d sat comforting her efter putting a dressing oan her cut heid when she refused tae go tae hospital tae get it patched up. She’d jist passed oan the phone number ae the wummin’s shelter that she’d goat fae Senga Jackson or Geraldine Baker, the other nurse, when Benny Lynch appeared oan the scene looking fur round nine tae begin. Between her and Sally Harry, they’d managed tae restrain the basturt by sitting oan him until help hid finally arrived. The buggers hid pissed aff efter dragging the drunken so-called boxer doon the stairs and bundling him intae the van. She’d tried radioing them tae get them tae come back and pick her up, bit Staffy Macbeth, the driver, hid ignored her, leaving her tae troop doon the road tae the station in the pouring rain. It wid’ve only taken them a minute tae turn back, insteid ae her twenty-minute walk, disturbing aw the stray dugs fae their slumber underneath the parked vans and lorries oan route. A couple ae them hid followed her in the dark, barking in her wake. As wan hid peeled aff tae shelter under another stationary lorry when the doonpour increased its velocity, another wee yappy basturt hid decided tae take the big rough collie’s place before he wis eventually forced tae follow her intae the first closemooth she’d come tae efter turning intae Saracen Street, before the pair ae them wur blown aff their feet by the wind. The wee basturt wisnae so bloody brave then, as he’d stood there, shivering, refusing tae gie her eye contact, until she’d decided tae bite the bullet and heid fur the pavement, a wee pathetic defiant yelp following in her wake. Despite the waterproof jaicket they wur issued wae, she’d been absolutely wringing by the time she’d stumbled through the doors, shivering wae the cauld. Efter quickly changing intae a dry shirt and heidin fur a mug ae tea in the canteen, she hidnae hid long tae wait fur the call. The canteen hid been busy wae the street pounders slowly making their way back tae the station in wans and twos fur the end ae the shift at six o’clock. She’d sat listening tae them, no being encouraged tae join in the excited chatter and relief ae another nightshift hivving finished and them being well enough tae walk tae their cars oot in the backyard, insteid ae lying injured up in Stobhill wae a sore face or a stab wound in their backs.

  “James?” Sergeant McGovern shouted, scanning the busy room, as she slurped the last ae her hot tea, before scrambling fur the door and the desk alang in the reception.

  “Hello?”

  “When kin Ah pick up the letters?” a familiar voice asked.

  “Oh, er, anytime. Ah’m jist finishing ma shift.”

  “Dis that mean ye’re free later oan this morning?”

  “Aye.”

  “Whereaboots? It’ll need tae be a public place where we kin see who’s coming and gaun.”

  “Oh, er, Ah live across in the West End…Hillheid.”

  “That’s okay fur me. Ah’m across there as well,” The Nurse volunteered, as Collette’s brain whizzed fur a suitable location.

  “Look, er, dae ye know where the wee canal bridge is up in Cadder?”

  Silence.

  “Hello…”

  “Aye. Ah know where it is noo.”

  “There’s a wee bench beside it. How aboot twelve o’clock?”

  Silence.

  “Fine,” the voice suddenly said, a millisecond before the line went deid.

  “Wait…” she squealed, lifting the receiver away fae her ear, looking doon at it in frustration.

  She’d wanted tae ask if they’d goat the file fae Lesley. She’d tried tae ring Lesley at her work a few times since she’d confronted her aboot Teddy’s past doon in the Kings Café, bit hid been telt that she wis too busy tae come tae the phone. She knew she’d be in the huff wae her, bit wis hoping that efter a few days, she wid’ve cooled doon a bit. It wis obviously gonnae take a lot mair than a week, she thought tae hersel, putting the phone back oan tae the cradle, yawning, as the sound ae scrambling feet entering the corridor, heiding fur the car park oot the back, reached her.

  6.05 AM

  The Highland Fox looked at the two uniforms staunin under the naked bulb oan the stairheid landing. It wis freezing and the vapour emitting fae their mooths reminded him ae a couple ae inquisitive Highland coos waiting at a fence tae see whit wis gonnae happen next. Their overblown shadows wur magnified across the ceiling and doon the stairs oan tae the mezzanine flair below and behind them. He wid’ve preferred tae hiv knocked, bit the chance ae evidence being destroyed or flushed doon the lavvy wis too great tae take that risk.

  “On you go, sergeant,” he whispered, staunin aside, as the brick shithoose took a step backwards and let fly wae they size twelve’
s ae his, jist as the telephone oan the other side ae the door started ringing.

  “Oops,” wan ae the Skulks said, as the whole door took flight and landed in the carpeted lobby wae a loud crash, as they rushed past him.

  “Whit the…” a neighbour fae next door exclaimed as his door flew open.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry if we’ve woken you up, sir. It’s chust a routine call,” The Inspector said apologetically, as he turned and entered the flat, following in the direction ae where the sounds ae a scuffle and shouting wur coming fae.

  “Bring him through to the living room, laddies,” The inspector commanded, before turning and gaun in search ae it.

  “Whit the fuck’s gaun oan here, eh? Dae ye know who Ah am? Ah’m a fucking polis inspector, so Ah am,” The Stalker snarled at The Highland Fox, trying tae wrestle himsel free fae the clutches ae the two uniforms. “Let me go, ya pair ae basturts, ye!”

  “Do you want me to disable him, sir?” The Sergeant asked threateningly.

  “Hello, Paddy,” Swein McTavish said quietly.

  “Who the fuck ur you and whit’s aw this aboot?”

  “Oh, we met a number of years ago, back in 1969, remember? I assisted you in the pursuit of young Paul McBride down the west coast to Glesgie, with Lady Saba MacDonald in tow. Oh, and in case you’re wondering, Paul’s still a bit of a rascal, but friendly with it,” The Highland Fox replied, allowing a wee smile tae appear at the corner ae his lips.

  “Swein? Is…is that you?” The Stalker coughed and spluttered, surprise in that voice ae his, as he stoapped struggling and stared at the inspector. “Whit the hell’s gaun oan and whit the fuck’s wae the gun?” The Stalker demanded tae know, nodding at the broon holster strapped tae a Sam Browning belt wrapped roond the ootside ae The Highland Fox’s uniformed jaicket.

  “Oh, that was going to be my line, Paddy,” The Highland Fox replied, sounding disappointed.

  “Bit…”

  “Paddy, you’re going to have to come with us, I’m afraid. We’d chust like to ask you a few questions in relation to enquiries we’ve been conducting for some time now. But first, why don’t you allow the laddies to escort you back through to the bedroom to help you on with a pair of underpants and trousers? It’s cold outside,” The Highland Fox continued, nodding tae the uniforms, who started dragging The Stalker backwards oan they bare heels ae his, ignoring his pleas that he could walk oan his ain two feet, as the phone in the lobby started up again.

  “Hello?” The Inspector asked, catching the eyes ae The Stalker getting dressed in the bedroom, as the caller oan the other end ae the line hesitated fur a couple ae seconds, before hinging up.

  6.15 AM

  Lizzie Mathieson wondered if she’d put too much perfumed bath salts intae the bath as the reek fae it caught her in the back ae her throat. She hid her toe practically in the hot, cloudy water, when she heard the phone ringing. She hesitated ever so slightly, before withdrawing the pink toenail. She grabbed her dressing gown aff the chair, as she hurried across the lobby tae the shrilling, ringing in the kitchen.

  “Hello?” she panted intae the receiver.

  “Hello, is that you, Lizzie?”

  “Aye.”

  “It’s me, Geraldine.”

  “Oh, hello, Geraldine. Ah wis jist aboot tae launch masel intae the River ae Babylon through there, so Ah wis,” Lizzie said, yawning, grimacing, as she noticed the rain lashing doon under the orange street light through the windae pane.

  “Is Senga aboot?”

  “Senga? Oh, Ah’m no sure. Ye might’ve missed her. Hing oan,” Lizzie said, padding across tae Senga’s bedroom, listening, before opening the door and popping her heid roond it.

  “Naw, ye’ve missed her. She’s gone. She’s getting the bus oot tae Edinburgh this morning. Johnboy’s goat a hearing at The Court Ae Appeal the day, so he his. She wanted tae be there, even though she knows there isnae gonnae be any new developments. It’s The Sheriff Court this efternoon where aw the action will be.”

  “Shit!” she heard Geraldine curse.

  “Whit?”

  “Look, Lizzie. Ye don’t hiv Michelle Hope’s number by any chance, dae ye?”

  “Er, aye, hing oan a sec and Ah’ll see if Ah kin find it,” she replied, putting the phone doon while scanning the unit fur the wee address book. “Here ye go. 334-9493. Dae ye want me tae repeat that?”

  “Naw, that’s fine…”

  “Is everything awright, Geraldine?”

  “It aw depends oan who ye’re asking,” Geraldine replied cryptically. “Look, Lizzie, hen, Ah’ll hiv tae go. Speak tae ye later. Bye.”

  “Bit…”

  6.35 AM

  Dave McGovern paced the cell. He wis in some sort ae village polis station efter being huckled oot ae that bed ae his jist efter five o’clock. The building looked abandoned, although he’d clocked hauf a dozen polis coming and gaun. Nowan seemed tae be bothered wae the incessant ringing ae the telephone in wan ae the rooms further alang the corridor. A few ae them hid gied him curious glances as he wis being escorted through tae the cells. The big sergeant wan hid refused tae answer any ae his questions.

  “My inspector wants a word with you, laddie,” wis aw he’d said, as him and two ae his gun-toting pals, baith pavement pounders, hid slung that hauncuffed arse ae his intae the back ae a Black Maria efter kicking doon his front door.

  He wondered if it might be connected tae Duggie Dougan, Shane Priestly and him hivving put the squeeze oan Black Pat McVeigh by setting aboot Thomas Four Fingers Ralston across in Partick. He knew fine well that they’d gone o’er the score a wee bit efter the stupid basturt hid attempted tae put up a fight. It hid been the last whack oan the back ae Ralston’s skull that wid’ve done the damage. He’d heard a crack and a pop efter that baton ae his hid landed as Ralston tried tae get up oan tae his hauns and knees. Shane hid suggested that they should’ve maybe phoned an ambulance as they heided back across tae Possil, bit the inspector hid telt him tae get a life. It wis jist as well they’d aw been wearing gloves. The reports fae The Western hid said that Ralston wis in a coma in the casualty ward. Four Fingers widnae be missed, he assured himsel, looking across at the flaked painted door. There hid been movement oot in the corridor a few minutes earlier efter they’d gied up trying tae question him again.

  “Ah don’t hiv tae say anything tae youse. Ah know ma rights,” he’d snarled.

  He thought he’d heard Paddy McPhee’s voice, bit he’d dismissed that possibility. He hidnae spoken tae The Stalker fur a few months noo. Whoever it wis, they’d slung his arse intae wan ae the five cells in the corridor where he wis.

  6.45 AM

  Teddy Bare looked closely at himsel in the mirror as he applied the shaving soap wae his brush. If it wisnae fur the black puffy rings under they eyes ae his and the jowly hinging cheeks, he widnae look forty-two, he telt himsel. He stood back, his hauns oan his hips, haudin his breath, as he pulled in his hinging hairy tits and belly wae his stomach muscles, turning sideways before looking at his reflection.

  “Nah, furget it,” he cursed at himsel, allowing they lungs ae his tae exhale in a whoosh while lifting up his leg and farting loudly. “Better oot than in,” he murmured, picking up the razor.

  He’d need tae remember and pick up Teddy Junior fae the school when he finished his work later oan, he reminded himsel. It hid taken him and Lesley three days tae console the poor wee bugger efter that poisoned dwarf ae a basturt stole his crown across in The Plaza. The wee fella hid refused tae get in tae the taxi tae start wae, efter the imposter and that wife and cheeky wee brat ae theirs hid cruised aff in The Cresta, like Lord and bloody Lady Muck. He’d brightened up a bit when they’d come across The Clampets broken doon at the side ae the road in the Gorbals though. The three ae them hid pissed themsels silly in the back ae the taxi before being drapped aff at The Spezia Café in Duke Street fur the mountain ae ice cream that hid awaited their arrival.

  “Ouch! Ya bloody numpty, ye,” he cursed, quickly be
nding o’er the sink and splashing the running tap water across his face, letting oot a wee yelp as the hot water entered the razor wound.

  When he looked in the mirror, a mixture ae blood and water wis streaking doon his cheek fae the razor nick. Pressing the towel hard against it, he searched through the cupboard, scattering wee bottles ae Milk ae Magnesia, aspirin and other shite in his wake.

  “Lesley!” he shouted, cursing, heidin oot intae the lobby. “Lesley?”

  “Whit?” she groaned sleepily through the bedroom door that wis staunin ajar.

  “Where the fuck ur the Elastoplasts?”

  “In the cupboard in the bathroom,” she replied sleepily.

  “They’re no. They’re no there,” he growled.

  “Try ma shoulder bag in the living room. There might be a wee tin in there.”

  “Ah cannae bloody believe this,” he mumbled tae himsel, thumping past the bedroom door in his bare feet.

  Efter his fingers scrambled aboot in her bag, tae nae avail, he tipped the contents oan tae the tap ae the table and instantly clocked whit he wis efter. There wis something else that caught his eye that made him hesitate though. A folded-o’er typewritten note wis sitting oan tap ae the mountain ae clutter. He picked it up and unfolded it, quickly reading the contents at precisely the exact time that Lesley’s eyes opened and she threw her body oot ae the bed tae try and get tae her bag before he came across Collette James’s note ae Teddy’s alleged rape ae Priscilla Presley back in the sixties.

  “Whit the fuck hiv you been up tae?” he screamed at her, jist before his fist crashed intae her face and she tumbled back oan tae the bed. “Speak tae me,” he roared, pulling her up by the hair and dragging her screaming and kicking oan her back, her heels bouncing aff the flair as she tried tae get up and away fae him.

  “Teddy!” she screamed in pain and fear, as he let her hair go and started kicking intae her side as she curled up howling.

  “This!” he panted, leaning o’er her, crushing the paper intae her face, as she tried tae back away fae him, bit getting stuck between a chair and the table legs. “Who gied ye this? Tell me!” he roared, as he leaned forward and pulled her up oan tae her feet by the hair. “Well?” he demanded as she tried tae speak through her gulping breathing and sobs.