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Authors: Ian Todd

Dumfries (31 page)

BOOK: Dumfries
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  “Ah believe that Ah widnae be in breach ae client confidentiality by informing ye that Ah’m awready aware ae a possible connection wae ma client’s case and others incarcerated in Dumfries, who may be associated wae the crime that ma client strenuously denies any involvement in, Mrs Connor,” he said, watching fur a reaction.

  “Ma son is willing tae appear as a witness oan behauf ae the boy Baxter in any future court case, and believes his information will prove, beyond any shadow ae a doubt, that yer client is indeed innocent and deserves tae be set free, Mr Abraham.  He’ll be able tae corroborate yer boy’s version ae events.   Noo, if ye want tae know mair, then Ah suggest that ye get in touch wae him before the real culprits find oot whit he knows and silences him.  Ah don’t think Ah hiv tae remind ye ae the type ae people we’re talking aboot here, dae Ah?” Flora Connor sniffled, staunin up, smoothing the invisible creases oot ae her coat, before turning and scurrying towards the frosted-glass door, clearly upset and overwhelmed by the injustice ae the situation affecting her and her innocent son.

 

  “
Good evening.  My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  It looks like a war of words has been reignited between Lord Frank Owen, proprietor of The Glasgow Echo and The Sunday Echo and Glasgow’s finest, after The Sunday Echo published photographs of what it claimed to be two police officers accepting bribes from two well-known criminals in a house in Hatton Gardens, Crookston.  The photographs, taken through a long range lens, show the officers counting a large sum of money, thought to be twenty pound notes, on a coffee table, in full view of the photographer who was believed to be in a house opposite.  Although the newspaper names the officers involved, we have decided to withhold their identities until after a press conference that is due to take place in Police Central HQ tomorrow morning.  A spokesman for Lord Owen said the paper stands by their allegations as the photographs speak for themselves and that it is up to Glasgow Police to prove otherwise.  Superintendent Daddy Jackson, from Central HQ, has criticised the publication and the naming of the officers in some newspapers, before the officers identified have had the opportunity to explain the reason for their presence in the house…

  Three women, all in their forties, have been arrested and are due to appear at the Marine District Court in Partick tomorrow morning after being arrested for breach of the peace and assaulting police officers after a disturbance in a closemouth during a warrant sale in Wellfield Street, Springburn, this morning.  The women, Betty Smith, Jemima Flint and Sharon Campbell are all well-known campaigners against the selling of people’s household furniture through warrant sale auctions in Springburn…

  Sixteen youths, including three female teenagers, have been arrested and charged with various offences, including carrying offensive weapons and breach of the peace, in Denmilne Street, Easterhouse…

  A twenty-seven-year-old, off duty city centre car park security guard was slashed across the face in an unprovoked assault as he walked home in the early hours of this morning.  The victim, Mr Thomas Delgetty, was confronted by two youths at the corner of Ladywell Street and Duke Street.  Mr Delgetty, who will be scarred for life, was later allowed home after having thirty eight stitches inserted on the left-hand side of his face…”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Twenty Nine

  “Snappy’s found a new pal,” Johnboy said tae Tony, nodding at the cackling pair in front ae them.

  “Ach, Stu’s okay, so he is,” Tony said, smirking, as the sound ae guffaws filtered back tae them.

  Johnboy sat and gazed at the grinning faces.  Snappy wis leaning forward o’er his machine, listening tae whit Stu, who wis twisted aroond in his seat, wis saying.  Johnboy could see Snappy’s shoulders shaking wae laughter.

  “Ur ye no supposed tae be working, Johnston?” Dickheid Dick, the SO growled at him, as he heided back tae the beasts’ table at the tap ae the workshoap, efter sitting drinking cups ae tea in the office fur the previous hauf an hour.

  “And ur ye no supposed tae be up at that tap table, hard at daeing sweet fuck aw, protecting yer beastie boys?” Snappy retorted.

  “Jist you watch that mooth ae yers, Johnston.  Ah’m no here tae take any lip fae scum like you,” the SO snarled, stoapping in his tracks, challenging Snappy wae they eyes ae his.

  “Ah’ve been telt by Stafford tae keep ma eyes oan the new boy and tae keep him right oan how tae use the sewing machine.  If ye’ve goat a problem wae that, take it up wae him,” Snappy hit him wae, nodding across tae the broon-coated screw who wis checking through a bunch ae completed bandoliers that Silent hid taken across.

  “It’s Mr Stafford tae you!”

  “Whit’s up?” Stafford asked, blinking, looking up fae his task, as the sewing machines in the immediate vicinity ae the confrontation area ground tae a staunstill.

  Johnboy hid awready anticipated the sticky wicket that Dick by name, Dick by nature, came tae find himsel in, long before it dawned oan the eejit that he wis in severe danger ae ending up wae a sore face…at best.  Even though some ae the machines hid stoapped and the boys behind them wur looking at the developing situation wae interest, the rest ae the machines wur still rattling alang, twenty tae a dozen, masking the aggressive vibes being let aff in the middle ae the workshoap.  Johnboy could see that Bliss, the other broon coat up at the beasts’ table wis hunched o’er, wae his back tae the rest ae the shoap, haufway through cutting up a twelve feet by twelve feet batch ae cloth.  Joe The Rat, the child snatcher, wis up oan tap ae Bliss’s table oan his knees, haudin the four-inch thick layers ae cloth in place as Bliss followed the contours ae the chalk lines, used as a guide tae produce the required shapes that made up the bandoliers.  The other pair ae security screws wur also up at that end ae the workshoap, whiling away their time, talking tae Robert The Beast and his two pals, Peter The Pervert and Fletcher The Child Percher.  Efter whit seemed like ages, bit wis in fact only a few seconds, the penny seemed tae drap behind Dickheid Dick’s eyes underneath the pulled doon silver braided hat ae his.  Snappy hid awready stood up fae his machine, glaring intae the SO’s eyes, challenging him tae follow through.  Across at the bench table, Silent hid awready turned roond fae Stafford’s quality assurance inspection and wis noo casually leaning back against the edge ae the table oan his elbows, silently taking in everything that wis happening.  Tony, meantime, hid stoapped sewing, and hid swivelled roond in his seat and wis noo sitting back wae his erms folded across his chest, saying nothing, bit watching the SO’s every move.  Johnboy quickly glanced up tae the cutting table.  The activity up there hidnae changed.  Dickheid Dick wis noo in deep shit.  The two flair screws, who wur no only supposed tae be ensuring that the beasts wur protected, bit wur responsible fur the security in the shoap as well, wur still engrossed in conversation wae their three buddy beast pals.  Aw The Mankys wur well aware that it hid been Dickheid Dick that hid led the charge when Silent hid been assaulted when he’d first arrived.  It wis also Dickheid’s best pal, The Tormentor…noo engrossed in talking tae the beasts up at the cutting table…that Snappy hid scudded in the T.V. room recently and in the corridor, efter it wis established that he’d also been involved in the assault oan Silent.  Johnboy wis relieved tae see the fear and panic appear in Dickheid’s eyes, bit wis then disappointed tae clock the stupid basturt clearly weighing up his chances ae no losing control or being assaulted.  His stupidity wis unbelievable.  This guy widnae hiv lasted two minutes in the toon.  Johnboy’s brain started willing the stupid basturt tae get his arse moving and tae get the fuck oot ae there.  He jist couldnae fathom where the fuck Dickheid wis coming fae.  He wis in a no-win situation and the danger level ae no-return wis fast approaching, as the seconds passed.  Fur Stafford tae come tae the rescue ae the SO wance an assault kicked aff, he’d need tae vault o’er the tap ae the table, landing in front ae where Silent wid be staunin, waiting fur him.  Fur Dickheid tae reach the nearest alarm oan the wall, he’d also need tae try and scoot pass Silent or dae an aboot-turn and heid back doon towards the office.  If that occurred, Tony wid be oan tae him in a flash.  The face under the braided, brimmed hat suddenly took oan a ghastly grey-white appearance, as Dickheid turned tae Stafford, pleading wae they hauf hidden eyes ae his fur him tae dae something.  The situation hid noo reached the critical point.  It wis clear by the silent, blank expressions, oan the faces ae Snappy, Silent and Tony…expressions that Johnboy hid witnessed many times o’er the years jist before somewan wis aboot tae get seriously hurt…that they’d awready made up their minds tae follow through and go fur the basturt.

  “Right, whit’s gaun oan here?” Stafford asked again, keeping his voice even, obviously no wanting tae alert the lazy uniformed basturts up at the back, in case he escalated an awready deadly situation.

  Johnboy made a point ae never taking an interest in anything the screws said or did in Dumfries, bit he admired Stafford fur the way he wis dealing wae whit wis being played oot in front ae him.  It wis obvious that Stafford wis too long in the tooth tae be able tae cope wae a riot in his workshoap.  It wis well-known amongst YOs that screws like Stafford and Bliss, who ended up in the workshoaps, couldnae cope wae working oan the landings fur a variety ae reasons.  Fur some, it wis because they’d been assaulted or even worse, caught up in a siege situation and their nerves hid been shot tae pieces.  Stafford, being the auld haun that he wis, knew fine well that if he raised his voice and drew the attention ae the other screws, then the shit unfolding before him, wis gonnae explode and a riot wid probably break oot.

  “Dickheid’s trying tae embarrass me by pulling me up in front ae everywan fur looking efter the new boy,” Snappy thankfully said, breaking the impasse.

  “Mr Dick?” Stafford asked the SO, keeping that tone ae his neutral.

  “Ah’m no here tae take shite fae the likes ae him,” Dickheid’s voice quavered and whined, pleading fur Stafford tae back him up.

  “Ah telt young Johnston tae show the new boy the ropes oan the machine.  It involves communicating wae him by telling him whit tae dae.  If ye’ve goat a wee problem wae that, then Ah suggest we talk aboot it in the office,” Stafford replied, face ashen, nodding towards the office.

Johnboy wanted tae gie Stafford an applause fur the way he’d gied Dickheid the go-aheid tae walk away towards the office, unscathed, bit insteid, he wanted tae burst oot laughing in disbelief.   It wis painful tae watch.  Stafford hid gied him an oot withoot losing face and still the stupid basturt didnae bite.  Everywan should’ve been back tae whit they wur daeing before the commotion started.  Johnboy could tell that Snappy wis jist a baw hair away fae pouncing oan the SO.  Tae make matters worse, unlike Stafford, Tony hid clearly decided no tae intervene tae calm the situation doon, so the game wis still oan wae Dickheid caught in the triangle ae Silent, Snappy and Tony.  Johnboy wondered if he should butt-in, bit decided no tae.  He couldnae be arsed wae aw the grief that Snappy wid’ve gied him o’er the next month, so he held his sooth, and jist decided tae go alang wae whitever wis gonnae come oot ae it.  He’d hid his eye oan Robert The Beast fur a wee while noo.  The Mankys hid awready decided amongst themsels that if the shit hit the fan, then Robert The Beast, oot ae aw the stoat-the-baws, wid be the wan tae cop it first.  Aw The Mankys hid agreed that Snappy wid hiv first bite.  In a situation where Snappy wisnae in a position tae dae the business, then the closest Manky tae The Beast wid take that oan.  There wis a four foot long, quarter ae an inch thick steel ruler, that wis used tae smooth oot the cloth before it wis cut, lying oan the cutting bench tae the left ae Joe The Rat, the baby snatcher.  Johnboy hid decided that that wis the weapon ae choice that he wis gonnae use oan Robert The Beast’s heid, and hopefully a few others up at the cutting table, when everything kicked aff and the security screws ran doon tae try and save Dickheid Dick efter Snappy hid pounced.

  “Ah’m in charge ae the security situation in this workshoap, Mr Stafford,” Dickheid suddenly whined fearfully, realising that support wisnae forthcoming, and that he wis jist seconds away fae either being seriously injured or worse, killed.

  “Aye, and Ah’m working tae a tight deadline here, so Ah am, Mr Dick.  There’s a thirty thousand bandolier contract coming up and we need tae make sure we finish this contract well in advance tae be in wae a shout fur it or it’ll end up gaun up tae Perth,” Stafford said through clenched teeth, pleading wae Snappy wae they eyes ae his, ignoring the SO, face as white as a ghost, as the sweat pished aff ae the tip ae his nose.

  Aw eyes wur oan Snappy.  It wis his call. Johnboy willed him tae back aff.  Johnboy’s freedom depended oan these buggers being freed as soon as possible.  If Dickheid Dick wis attacked, they’d probably add years oan tae everywan’s sentences.

  “Fucking prick,” Snappy growled, staring intensely at the SO, making it abundantly clear that he wisnae prepared tae back doon, as Dickheid Dick’s face turned away.

  And wae that, it wis aw o’er.  Dickheid scampered aff past Silent, slinging Stafford, who wis also an SO, a filthy look oan the way past.  Snappy turned aroond wae a big grin spread across his coupon and went back tae hivving a laugh wae Stu, as Tony swivelled back roond tae face his machine and started sewing up his hauf-finished bandolier.  Although the confrontation hid only lasted aboot two or three minutes, Johnboy knew the ramifications could’ve lasted fur years.  Johnboy knew fine well that there wis too many screws in the workshoap, aw carrying batons, fur any fight tae hiv been left tae fists and feet.  Johnboy wondered why prison officers never referred tae each other by their first name’s in front ae prisoners.  It wis really strange, he thought, as he turned roond tae face his machine.

  “That’s good, Silent, well done,” Stafford stammered tae Silent, efter resuming his inspection task, his voice clearly still shaky.

  “Haw, haw, ye’ve goat tae listen tae whit the wee man is spouting here, Tony,” Snappy said, turning, as The Giggle Twins cracked up again in fits ae cackling.

  “Watch oot, here comes the teacher’s favourite bum-boy,” Tony sniggered, as Silent slid back intae his seat beside Snappy, the commotion wae Dickheid awready forgotten aboot.

  Johnboy looked at the new YO, who’d jist arrived doon fae E-Hall in Barlinnie, where he’d been waiting tae get assessed efter being sentenced tae seven years fur attempted murder.  Aw The Mankys knew Stu and liked him, especially efter whit hid happened tae wan ae Honest John’s son’s-in-law, Tibbs McPherson. 

Efter getting the nod fae Wan-bob that it wid be okay tae hiv a go at Honest John, The Mankys hidnae fucked aboot.  Aw The Mankys knew that Honest John loved his fitba, especially Partick Thistle.  As well as nipping across tae Firhill fur aw the home games every Saturday, the honest appliance master travelled aw o’er Scotland oan The Maryhill Tavern’s
Partick Thistle supporters’ bus tae aw the away games.  It kept him in touch wae the great unwashed oan the street, who he liked tae impress, as well as allowing him a wee swally while repeatedly chanting oot the only two tunes The Jags fans hid in their repertoire.  The Mankys hid finally agreed oan their grand plan, efter pishing themsels laughing when Johnboy hid explained tae Simon how they wur gonnae rob Honest John ae his Saturday’s takings fae the big shoap oan Dumbarton Road.
 
Johnboy hid explained tae them aboot his meeting wae Senga Jackson’s uncle, Jim Sweeney, oan Keppochhill Road.  The plan hid been pretty straightforward.  Johnboy smiled, remembering the big cheesy grins that hid appeared oan their faces when he’d telt them that Honest John wis getting a full set ae fancy electric tills installed in his shoap and that The Mankys wur gonnae take the big greedy basturt tae the cleaners by getting somewan tae pull the plug oan the electricity that fed the street, including Honest John’s shoap, ten minutes before it wis due tae shut up fur the night, locking any till drawer shut that wisnae awready open oan the Saturday…Honest John’s busiest day ae the week.

  “Will Honest John no be oan the go?”  Simon wanted tae know.

  “Naw, he’ll be travelling back fae watching The Jags play East Fife, oot in Methil,” Johnboy hid replied, as the grins goat wider.

  “Wance the electricity is cut tae the building, aw the tills ur fucked and they won’t be able tae open them until the juice is switched back oan.  Maist ae the customers will be gone by that time, so the tills will be sitting there, full ae the days takings. It’ll mean they’ll hiv tae leave the dosh in the shoap overnight, until Honest John arrives tae sort the problem oot,” Tony hid chipped in, laughing.

  “And when that happens, three ae us will be hiding in wan ae the locked store rooms that ur scattered aboot the shoap.  Wance the place is locked up, we jist come oot ae oor wee hidey hole and help oorsels,” Johnboy hid said, haudin up a storeroom door key.

BOOK: Dumfries
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