Devil You Know (10 page)

It was Gary who called me. “Have you heard from Mickey?” he asked.

I held my breath. Gary’s voice was shaking. Something was wrong. “Not seen anybody for a while. Is he all right?”

Gary hesitated. I heard him swallow nervously before he spoke. “His dog died, Logan.”

It wasn’t what I was expecting, so I laughed. After all we had been through, Mickey was cut up about his dog? I mean, the mutt was ancient. Then I remembered how he had had Ricky since he was three. He took it everywhere. We thought it was a scruffy mongrel of a dog. Mickey didn’t. Mickey was always stroking it and clapping it, talking to it as if it was his best friend. He loved that dog, and the dog loved him right back. Nothing to laugh about.

I apologised right away. “Sorry about that. Och, he must be gutted. Did it get run over?” That was my first thought. A lot of dogs wandered free on the estate. Accidents were always happening. But even as I said it I remembered Mickey’s dog was kept on a lead, taken for walks, taken care of as if it was a champion at Crufts. It couldn’t have been run over. “Was it old age?”

Gary didn’t answer for a second. “You’re probably the only one I could say this to,” he began, “but I don’t think it was any kind of an accident. Mickey couldn’t find it last night, and you know how he took care of that dog, it was always with him. Slept on his bed and everything. It was gone all night, and then this morning he found it outside his back door, just lying there. Dead.” There was another long pause. “It was poisoned,
Logan.”

“Poisoned…? You think somebody deliberately poisoned it? Who would poison Mickey’s dog, Gary? What are you trying to say?”

“His mum’s saying it probably wandered off and ate something it shouldn’t have. And then found its way back home and died on the doorstep.” His words tumbled out in a long unbroken stream.

“You don’t think so, do you?”

He answered my question with another question. “You don’t think so either, do you?”

“How do you know it was poisoned?”

“Vet cut him up to find out. Said it was rat poison, he must have ate it without thinking.” Gary started to whisper as if he thought someone might be listening. “Rat poison. That dog was hardly out of Mickey’s sight. Somebody snatched him that night, and poisoned him, and we know who, don’t we?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “It was a warning, Logan. A warning.”

It was what I was thinking too, but it was a crazy idea. “But, poisoning a dog, Gary? It seems a bit lame for Glasgow gangsters.”

“I read they once cut off a dog’s head, left it on a billiard table. This guy’s favourite dog and he owed them money, and they cut off its head… That was like a warning too.”

“Well, they didn’t cut off Mickey’s dog’s head.”

“The dog’s dead, isn’t it?”

I couldn’t help thinking he was right. “What does Mickey say?”

“I can’t say anything to Mickey,” Gary said. “He’s so heartbroken, if he thought somebody deliberately poisoned his dog he’d go crazy.”

“We could be wrong, Gary,” I said.

“I wish I believed that,” Gary said. “But I’ve got a feeling this is only the beginning. Al Butler, and now this.”

I had a feeling he was right. That this was only the beginning.

I called Baz after that. After all my promises to keep away from them all, and here I was, calling Baz. But I had to talk to him, tell him about Mickey’s dog. I knew what he would say.

“That’s nothing to do with us.” So confident of that, he didn’t hesitate for a moment.

“You don’t think so? Definitely?”

“Somebody’s either accidentally poisoned it, or done it deliberately, but it’s nothing to do with gangsters. You know what some of the gangs round here are like. Hey! The Young Bow!” I could imagine him snapping his fingers as if he’d just thought of it. “Yeah, the Young Bow. They said they were going to get us, didn’t they? We led them into a trap. If it was anybody, it was them.”

The Young Bow! I’d forgotten all about them. I was almost relieved to believe it might have been them.

“But it was left right on his doorstep. Like they wanted him to know it was a warning. Would the Young Bow do that?”

Baz brushed that aside. “Of course they would.”

“You really don’t think it’s a warning from…”

He didn’t even let me finish. “Gangsters!” he spat the word out. “No. Don’t think that. But listen. Ok, let’s say it wasn’t the Young Bow, the poor mutt probably just ate something it shouldn’t. Happens all the time.”

What he said was sensible, and I wanted so much to believe it.

“Come on, Logan, gangsters after us? Do you think they’re gonny bother with us? Boys! And these gangsters are so terrifying all they can do
is poison a mangy dog… You can’t really believe that.” He was laughing.

It was stupid, of course it was stupid. I tried to believe it so I’d feel better.

The feeling didn’t last long. If I could have phoned Mickey I would have, but Gary was right, it wouldn’t be fair telling him our suspicions, that someone had deliberately poisoned his dog. And anyway, Mickey wasn’t really any special friend of mine.

I did tell Lucie.

“Aw, who’d be bad enough to kill a little dog?”

She knew exactly who I thought could be bad enough. “Maybe it was an accident.” I said, hopefully, still trying to convince myself.

“Bet it wasn’t,” she said. “Bet somebody did it deliberately. Not everybody’s as nice as us, Logan. But not gangsters. I think your best bet is the Young Bow.”

That made me laugh. She was actually agreeing with Baz.

“There’s a lot of nasty people going about, Logan. Some of them would have done it.”

I so hoped she was right. “Poor Mickey,” I said. “He really loved that dog.”

I saw Gary and Claude the next night at the precinct. It was a Saturday evening. Baz hadn’t turned up where I usually met him, and he didn’t answer his phone. Mickey wasn’t there either, in mourning for his dog. We were all miserable.

“Taking the grieving process a bit too far, eh?” I suggested. I was trying to lighten the mood, that was all. I wasn’t serious.

Claude glared at me. “Mickey loved that dog.” His face was grim.

Gary held his arm. “Logan doesn’t know Mickey like you do.” He glanced at me. “Claude and Mickey been friends forever.”

Why did I always say the wrong thing? I wanted to make it up to them. “Sorry. That’s me trying to be funny again. Do you think we should go and
see him?”

Gary shook his head. “Naw, he just wants to be on his own with his family.” Then he added, sounding a bit embarrassed, “Me and Claude, we visited him last night.”

Without me. Without even asking me. I was going to ask if Baz was there too, but somehow I knew he hadn’t been invited either.

“We didn’t say anything about someone doing it deliberately, ok?” Gary said.

I nodded. “Of course not.”

“Anyway, it’s all a load of old rubbish.” Claude spat on the ground. “It’ll be the Young Bow, and their furry leader!” he giggled. “Gangsters!” he said. “As if gangsters are going to bother with us.”

He began dancing around, doing a made-up rap song, all about gangsters and dead dogs. In the end we were all dancing around the precinct, rapping along with him. Even people passing by were laughing at us.

I felt almost happy as I walked home that night, or rather as I danced home. Still singing to myself, I saw people watching me – must have thought I was soft in the head. But that didn’t matter. So a dog was dead. Nasty business poisoning a wee dog. But nothing to do with us, or the fire, or the death of Al Butler. Of course it wasn’t. Claude and Baz were right. If it was anybody, it was the Young Bow’s sick revenge for leading them into an ambush. As if gangsters would bother with boys like us.

But Claude won’t be dancing any more for a long time. That night, on his way home, as he walked down one of the lonely alleys on the estate, Claude was attacked and his legs were broken.

Gary called me at lunchtime next day. I was sitting on the sofa, getting stuck into a late breakfast when my phone rang. His voice was shaking. “Claude’s in hospital,” he told me. “Two broken legs.”

I jumped to my feet. My cornflakes went everywhere. “What happened?”

I remember praying he would say it was some kind of accident. Claude had fallen down some stairs. Been hit by a bus. Anything.

His voice rose. “What do you think happened? It was after he left us last night. He’s on his way home and he gets jumped. They broke his legs. Two broken legs, do you know what that is?” His voice was getting higher by the minute. “Classic gangster technique. The IRA did it, the gangsters do it.” I could picture him on the phone, breathing hard, bouncing about on the balls of his feet the way he always did when he was nervous.

“Did Claude tell you that?”

“I’ve not seen him. But what else could it be? Al Butler, Mickey’s dog, and now this. No way this is the Young Bow. They’re just boys as well, they wouldn’t do a thing like this. This is Mad Mike – the Machans! They’re after us. They’re definitely picking us off one by one.”

But, now I’d had time to take it in, I was doubtful. “Come on, Gary, don’t let’s jump to conclusions. How did you find out?”

I could hear his nervous swallow. “Claude’s auntie,” he said. “She phoned my mum.”

“So you don’t really know how it happened? You’re just speculating?”

I could almost see him nodding his head, thinking about that. “Ok, I
see what you mean, it could have been anybody… But it’s too much of a coincidence.”

“Let’s wait till we see Claude. Are you going to the hospital?”

“I’m going at visiting tonight… Are you going to come with me?”

He wanted company. And I needed to see Claude too. I was so glad he asked me. “Yeah, of course I’m coming.”

It was just me and Gary who went to the hospital. Baz didn’t come. I did call him, but he said hospitals and him didn’t agree. His dad had died in one, he said, almost laughing. I was glad he didn’t come. I knew Gary was too. We talked more freely when Baz wasn’t there.

We took a bus to the hospital and Gary couldn’t stop talking about what had happened to Claude. His voice trembled with his every word.

“You’re really scared, Gary,” I said.

“Do you blame me? Claude’s lying in hospital. Al Butler’s dead. So’s Mickey’s dog. Yeah, sure I’m scared.”

“We’ve got to wait and see what Claude says.” There could be so many other reasons for Claude being attacked. I kept thinking about the Young Bow. It must have been them. They had told us they would get us, hadn’t they? I wanted so much for them to be responsible.

Visiting hadn’t started when we arrived. People were standing about, waiting for the ward doors to open, and I saw Claude’s mum sitting right outside the ward – any closer and she would have been inside. I had only seen her once – the night we’d been taken home by the police – but who could forget her? She was a big woman with a high-pitched voice that could stop traffic at fifty yards. And a drama queen reaction to everything. She caught sight of us and came to life. She leapt from the seat and rushed down the corridor with her coat flying behind her. She looked like an oversized bat.

“You! I blame you! A bad influence. My Claude was never in trouble till he took up with you!”

We were so taken aback we didn’t even step back. We never stood a chance. She lifted her handbag and walloped Gary over the head. He tried to cover his head with his hands, but he was too late.

“Mrs Handley—” I tried to avoid her, but she didn’t miss me either. She slammed the bag against my shoulder.

Her finger was inches from my face. “This has all happened since you turned up. You keep away from him. Hear me?”

I knew my face was bright red. I was trying hard to understand. Why was she blaming me for everything?

Claude’s sister, Taylor, came running behind her mum. She was a real looker with huge dark eyes; she pulled her mother away. But she was protecting her mother, not us. Those huge eyes were icy cold as she glared in our direction.

“We don’t even know what happened to Claude.” I told them.

“It was after he left us.” Gary said. “Nothing to do with us.”

And then at the same time we both asked. “What
did
happen to Claude?”

Just then, the ward doors opened, so we didn’t get an answer. Visiting hour had begun. Mrs Handley pushed us back roughly. “You’re not coming in! Go away!”

Gary and I just stood looking at each other, not knowing what to do. Taylor led her mum to the doors but then slipped back. “She’s really upset. Look, just wait. You can go in when we’re finished. Only don’t let Mum see you.”

“How did it happen, Taylor?” Gary asked her.

She shook her head. “Don’t know. We didn’t even hear about it till the middle of the night. My mum was going crazy ’cos he hadn’t come in. Then we got a phone call to say that someone had found him on the street, phoned an ambulance. He just says somebody attacked him. But he doesn’t know who.” She glanced toward the ward. “Look, I better go.”

So we sat in the corridor, not knowing what to say to each other.

“I thought the cops would be here,” Gary said eventually. He looked round as if he was expecting one to pop up between the seats.

“Been and gone probably.”

“Will they want to talk to us, do you think?”

We both knew they would. It alarmed Gary. It alarmed me too. Gary was so nervous, goodness knows what he might tell them.

He leaned forward, put his head in his hands. “The Machans – they must know who we are. They must be watching us and they’re coming after us, one by one.” His voice was a mumble. “And it will be even worse if they know the police have interviewed us.”

But I had an answer for that. “It won’t matter if the polis do interview us, Gary,” I said “This attack happened after Claude left us. We haven’t got anything to tell them.”

He was suddenly shouting: “We’re his mates! They’ll ask if we might know who did this. And we don’t dare tell them anything… Or goodness knows what will happen to us.” A couple of people waiting in the corridor turned to look at us. I touched his arm to quieten him.

“But we
don’t
know anything, Gary, and that’s all we are gonny tell the polis.” I reminded him, “You’re jumping to conclusions.”

We had to wait for almost the full hour before Claude’s mum and his sister came out. And then do you know what we did? We hid. We squeezed in behind a snack machine and hoped his mum wouldn’t spot us. Didn’t want walloped with that handbag again. Claude’s mum’s eyes were puffy with tears. She held a hanky to her face. Didn’t even look our way. Taylor did. She let her mother take a few steps ahead and then she came back to us. “You’ve got a couple of minutes. See if he’ll talk to you.”

“How is he?”

She looked at me as if I was mad. “He’s got two broken legs. He’s brilliant. What do you think?”

I held her back. “Whatever happened to Claude, it was nothing to do
with us.” I was trying to reassure myself as much as her.

She snatched her arm away. “Wasn’t it? He says he didn’t see who attacked him. I think he’s lying. He knows. See if you can get any more out of him.”

Then she was off, running after her crying mother.