The Mattress: The Glasgow Chronicles 4 (17 page)

  Careful Tony, take yer time, don’t push him too hard, he telt himsel. 

  “Pat, we kin haundle oorsels well enough if we wander ootside Springburn tae dae a wee bit ae business here and there, bit it’s a different story when they basturts ur being allowed tae turn up in oor ain boozer…”

  “Ma boozer,” he quickly reminded Tony.

  “Ah didnae want tae be the wan that wis accused ae starting anything across in Springburn, bit we cannae go oan like this.  Everywan’s itching tae retaliate.  It’s me that’s haudin them back,” Tony replied, as The Big Man’s eyes suddenly became cauld and menacing and a tick appeared oan the side ae his left cheek.

  Silence.

  “Ye kin furget Toby Simpson, so ye kin.  He’s well oot ae the equation, so he is,” The Big Man said wae finality, efter a lengthy silence.

  “There widnae be any point in gaun fur Jo Jo Robson or Frisky Frank,” Tony retorted bitterly.  “Unless Ah kin take aff the heid, Toby will jist come back and lay waste tae us.”

  “Whit makes ye think Tam Simpson widnae dae the same, unless ye’re thinking ae gaun fur the two ae them at the same time?”

  Silence.

  “Right, tell me this, and ye better fucking answer me truthfully.  Did youse basturts hijack wan ae the Rob Roy poultry vans, up in Colston, last week?”

  “Us?  Ah’ve jist telt ye, we cannae even wipe oor arses withoot them being kicked.”

  “So, youse hid nothing tae dae wae blagging a van-load ae ma good frozen chickens then?”

  “Naw, we’ve awready goat oor ain sources,” Tony replied, lying.

  “So, how wur ye planning tae deal wae Toby then?”

  “Well, seeing as Ah couldnae get a haud ae yersel, we wur gonnae let him hiv it when he wis heiding doon tae St Teresa’s fur midnight mass oan Christmas eve.”

  “See, that’s whit concerns me aboot youse young wans, Tony,” The Big Man scoffed.  “Ye’ve nae class or style, so ye hivnae.  They brains ae yers must be dangling aboot between yer legs.  Look whit happened efter that carry-oan in Waterloo Street, when youse let loose wae that shooter, in broad daylight, against Jo Jo Robson and that other eejit, Bootsy Bell.”

  “That wis fu...”

  “And don’t bloody sit there and try and deny it either,” he warned Tony. “Ye must think Ah’m a fucking eejit or something…we aw know it wis two ae yer crowd…they were clocked by hauf the toon, so they wur.  It took Charlie Hastie aboot two days tae convince Shaun no tae nip up tae Springburn tae lay waste tae youse fucking bampots.  Ye obviously don’t appreciate how much Wan-bob and Charlie hiv put themsels oan the line fur youse manky wee basturts…and Ah’m no jist talking aboot the last wee while either.” 

  “Bit...”

  “Tony, shut the fuck up, Ah’m the wan that’s daeing the talking aboot here.  And then fur ye tae go oot and start hitting Provi-cheque men across in Possil efter being well-warned aboot that the last time?  Hiv youse aw goat some kind ae death wish that Ah don’t know aboot, eh?”

  “We wur staunin up fur oorsels,” Tony retorted.  “We wurnae jist gonnae staun back and let they basturts roll o’er the tap ae us, the way they dae tae everywan else.  Look at Joe.  Whit the fuck wis aw that aboot?”

  “Don’t bloody interrupt me!  If ye could listen tae yersel bleating like a snivelling wee whippet.  Ye clearly didnae learn anything efter yer fuck-up doon in Waterloo Street.  Kin ye imagine the newspapers and the sympathy vote?  Even though everywan knows Toby Simpson is a right psycho liberty-taker, daeing something like that tae anywan, especially when they’re oan their way tae midnight mass in the chapel at Christmas, wid bring the ceiling doon fae the authorities, big style, and there’s nae way that’s gonnae happen.  Think ae aw they real Christians heiding alang Saracen Street, in the same direction as Toby, and youse eejits jump oot and start blasting away.  And ye don’t think he’s gonnae be staunin there asking ye tae shoot him, dae ye?  Ye’d need tae empty a gun…or two, intae that psycho fucker, and he’d still probably get up aff his arse tae hiv a go back at ye.  Whit’s gaun oan between yersels and Toby Simpson his fuck-aw tae dae wae me.  Aw Ah’m interested in is ma ain concerns.  The fact that he’s taken tae wandering aboot Springburn like some preening dandy, might be a concern tae some people, bit it’s nothing tae dae wae you.  Toby is oot ae the question...bit Ah’ll let ye hiv Tam…the boss man himsel,” he said casually, in an offhand kind ae way as if he wis gieing Tony second prize in a raffle.

  Tony quickly bent o’er and picked up The Big Man’s glass and walked across tae the sideboard tae hide his shock.

  “Toss ma ice in first,” The Big Man said fae behind his back.

  Tony’s brain went intae overdrive.  Whit the fuck wis gaun oan?  He’d come tae get the go-aheid tae hiv a go at Toby, bit wis offered up Tam, the heid ae The Simpson clan insteid.  He hidnae expected that.  Did The Big Man really say they could go fur Tam Simpson?  Tony wondered if he wis playing wae him tae see whit his reaction wid be?

  “Here ye go, Pat,” he said, haunin o’er the glass, willing the ice in the glass nae tae shake and rattle aff the sides ae it.

  “Of course, there’d be conditions attached.”

  “Like whit?”

  “Like, we’ll hiv none ae that Wild West shite.  There’s nothing guaranteed tae get the backs up ae the authorities and the papers like shooting somewan in the street, as ye’ll probably hiv gathered efter yer wee escapade doon in the toon centre.  Ye hiv tae avoid Mr and Mrs Joe Innocent and their weans catching a stray bullet…especially oan the way tae midnight mass at Christmas,” he emphasised.  “Naw, if ye want the go-aheid fae me, ye’ll hiv tae dae it where it’s well oot ae sight ae anywan and there’s a guarantee that nae innocents ur gonnae be caught up in it.”

  “Whit aboot Toby then?  It wis him that done Joe in.  Despite whit ye’re saying, Ah’d far rather hiv Tam coming efter me than that psycho brother ae his.”

  “Tony, dae me a favour, son, eh?  Don’t ever, ever, underestimate somewan like Tam Simpson.  He’s a shrewd basturt.  He hisnae goat tae where he is by playing the Mr Decent card.  He’d happily spend a week relaxing in a deck chair, peeling the skin aff ae ye fae heid tae toe, before passing ye oan tae Toby and his sidekicks tae hiv a bit ae fun wae whit wis left ae ye.”

  “Ah’m still concerned aboot Toby and the damage he could cause us,”

  “Ah’ll deal wae Toby fae ma end, while you take care ae Tam.”

  “If Ah’m no allowed tae dae it in the street, dis that mean running him o’er is oot ae the question then?”

  “It means whit Ah’ve jist said it dis.  Oot ae sight, oot ae mind, eh?”

  “Ah’d still prefer Toby...jist tae make sure he’s well and truly deid.”

  “And another thing, Ah’ll need forty eight hours’ notice.  By that, Ah mean forty eight…no forty nine and certainly no forty seven.  Hiv ye goat that?”

  “Aye.”

  “Anything else then?”

  “Ah’m no gonnae fuck aboot here, Pat.  We’re talking aboot within the next week, if possible.  We jist cannae go oan like this.  Fuck knows who else is gonnae cop it unless Ah kin stoap they basturts.  Johnboy and Silent ur due tae be released oot ae Polmont next week.  Ah don’t want them walking intae aw this…especially Silent.”

  “Aye, Ah heard it wis him, the quiet wan, that wis the cause ae the ruckus doon in Waterloo Street.  They tell me that Bootsy Bell walks aboot wae a permanent limp noo.  Ah widnae want tae be in his shoes when Bootsy catches up wae him.  As long as Ah’ve goat ma forty eight hours’ notice, ye kin take aw the time ye want.”

  “Fine.”

  “Wan other thing, Tony.”

  “Aye?”

  “Ma good five grand ring?”

  “The ring that wis oan the front page ae The Echo yesterday morning?  Ach, that wis nothing tae dae wae us.  Ah jist used that tae try and get a meeting wae ye.”

  “Aye, Ah thought ye might say that,” The Big Man said, settling back in his chair and closing his eyes.

  An hour later, Wan-bob Broon and Charlie Hastie arrived back and grabbed a pew.

  “Ah hope ye know whit ye’re daeing, Wan-bob?  Did ye hear the lip he wis gieing me?  It took me aw ma time no tae ladle intae the cheeky Tally basturt,” The Big Man said, smiling as he passed the Lagavulin across tae Charlie.

  “Naw, ye played a binder there, Pat,” Charlie said, haunin a glass o’er tae Wan-bob, before splashing a fair sized nip intae it.

  “Tam’s the harder nut tae crack, so he is.  He’s never oan his lonesome…always surrounded by a squad,” Wan-bob reminded him.  “We kin get a haud ae Toby anytime.  Aw we need tae dae is sit back and see whit The Mankys come up wae.  If they’re successful, fine…we’ll get shot ae Toby.  If they fuck up, then it’s nothing tae dae wae us and we’ll staun back and let The Simpsons deal wae them…bit no up in Springburn.  Cheers!” he said, nodding, as the three ae them downed their whiskies.

Chapter Twenty Two

    “Is this the wan that wis in the paper yesterday?  It’s a bloody stoater, so it is,” Pat asked, impressed.

  He wis haudin up The Princess ring tae the light that wis streaming through the windae in Tony’s living room and looking at it through his eye-piece.

  “Is it worth whit they’re claiming?” Tony asked him.

  “Aye, if it’s kept thegither and no broken up.  The only problem is, who’d take it aff yer hauns as it is?”

  “Gie’s a look, Pat,” Snappy asked him.

  “Why?  Ye widnae know a ring fae an arsehole,” Pat scoffed, passing it back across tae Tony, who threw it across tae Snappy.

  “Where’s Simon then?” Tony asked them.

   “He’s always last tae arrive, that prick.  Ah say we jist start withoot him,” Snappy suggested, looking aboot tae see if there wis any takers.

  “Why don’t ye go and look fur him, Snappy, ya useless fud, ye, insteid ae sitting there trying tae sound intelligent?” Pat asked him.

  “Because Ah’m no getting aff ae this seat so ye kin jump in tae ma grave quick enough, ya knob, ye.  Ah see ye’re still reading up oan Fu Manchu, Tony,” Snappy said, picking up the Sun Tzu book and thumbing through the pages before slinging it back oan tae the coffee table.

  “Whit’s wrang?  No interested because there isnae any pictures?” Pat asked.

  “Naw…nae tits.”  

  “So, whit’s the score wae the chickens, Snappy?” Tony asked him.

  “Aw the wans fur the maws and their pals hiv been getting delivered throughoot the day.  Jake and Ben’s wee brothers hiv been drapping them aff.  Ah also put wan in tae each tae they auld wans who saw whit happened tae Joe.”

  “And the rest?”

  “Hauf ae them goat picked up aff the freezer wagons fae Henderson’s milk depot a few days ago, doon at the bottom ae Millarbank Street.  The other hauf will aw be gone by the morra.”

  “Who took them?” Pat asked.

  “Wee Eck Thomas fae across in Milton.  The wee greedy bampot went in the huff because he couldnae get them aw.  He said he wanted first shout if we goat any mair and Jimmy Tadpole fae Burmulloch wis the same.  He said he’d take aw we kin get oor hauns oan.”

  “Is that no a wee bit risky, dealing wae somewan fae that Milton crowd, Snappy?” Pat asked him.

  “Naw, naw, Wee Eck’s sound as a pound, so he is.  He hates The Simpsons mair than we dae.  Naw, we’re aw right there, so we ur,” Snappy assured them, jist as Simon arrived.

  “Simon, we’ve been sitting here fur hauf an hour, waiting fur ye tae grace us wae yer company, ya prick, ye.”

  “Shut yer arse, Snappy, Ah’m here noo,” Simon said, sitting oan the erm ae the couch, as Snappy haunded him the ring.

  “Is this the r…?”

  “Aye!” Pat and Snappy baith said at wance.

  “Right, Ah’ve goat good news and bad news,” Tony announced as they quietened doon.

  “Ye goat yer Nat King at last?” Simon asked, tae laughter.

  “Aye, that maw ae yours disnae hauf scream the place doon when she’s getting pumped,” Tony replied, smiling.  “Anyway, Ah finally managed a meeting wae The Big Man himsel last night, so Ah did.”

  “Aboot bloody time,” Simon growled, as the others looked startled at Tony’s announcement, nodding in agreement wae Simon.

  “Aye, well, it wis touch and go.  He’s been oot ae the country, wid ye believe?  He’s jist back, bit listen up.  Nowan kin breathe a word that he’s been away or that he’s back.  Even Shaun Murphy isnae aware that he’s back oan the go,” Tony said, putting up the palms ae baith ae his hauns tae stoap them smothering him in questions.

  “Right, shut the fuck up.  Oan ye go, Tony,” Pat said, nodding across fur him tae continue.

  Tony telt them aboot Baby Huey’s visit and his wee taxi ride in the van wae a pillowcase o’er his napper.  He ootlined his conversation wae The Big Man and then hesitated fur a second, before telling them that Toby wis oot ae the picture and that they’d been offered tae take Tam Simpson oot insteid.  This caused a flurry ae everywan talking at wance.  This time Tony knew jist tae sit back and let them talk and argue amongst themsels.

  “Well, that’s us fucked good and proper, so it is.”

  “Why the hell should it be?  Whether it’s Toby or that big brother ae his, Ah don’t gie a fuck.  Toby widnae hiv done anything withoot Tam gieing him the go-aheid in the first place.”

  “Bit, it wis Toby that goat Joe, so it wis.”

  “Bit behind Toby, it’s Tam who’s trying tae put us oot ae business.  He’s the main wan, as far as Ah’m concerned, so he is.”

  “It’s the two ae them.”

  “Ah say we jist go aheid and blast baith ae the basturts.  Fuck The Big Man.  He’s lost it.  They Simpsons hiv been trampling aw o’er Springburn fur yonks noo.”

  “Unless ye kin dae away wae the two ae them at the same time, we’re fucked.  And who’s tae say that they bears ae theirs won’t come fur us, even if we dae manage tae get shot ae Tam and Toby, eh?”

  “Whit else did he say, Tony?”  Simon finally asked, as aw eyes searched Tony’s face fur further news.

  “He says that he’ll deal wae Toby fae his end, as long as we gie him forty eight hours’ notice, in advance ae Tam copping it…and we cannae take him oan the street when he’s oan his way tae midnight mass either.”

  “Is that any street?”

  “Aye.”

  “Dis that include running the basturt o’er?”

  “He says it his tae be oot ae sight ae anywan.  He brought up Waterloo Street mair than a few times as an example ae whit no tae dae,” Tony said, eye-balling Snappy.  “He said he disnae want tae attract too much bad publicity, especially if there’s weans and families oan the go.”

  “If he’s looking fur forty eight hours’ notice, then he must be pretty confident ae getting his hauns oan that prick, Toby,” Simon turned and said tae Pat, as everywan quietened doon, and focussed back oan Tony.

  “He wis quite casual aboot it wance he gied us the go-aheid.  Before that, Ah practically hid tae beg the basturt.  It wis only efter Ah casted up everything that masel, Joe, Silent and Johnboy hid done fur him o’er the years that he changed his tune.  He’s a strange fucker, so he is.”

  “If ye staun back and look at it, it makes sense.  He knows that we couldnae go and waste jist wan ae The Simpsons.  The place wid go up in smoke and he’d end up hivving tae get involved anyway.  Despite whit Snappy says aboot nae bothering aboot Wee Eck Thomas, he’s wan ae Blaster Mackay’s boys, who we aw know ur allied tae the Possil crowd and won’t staun back and see any ae The Simpsons getting taken oot,” Pat chipped in.

  “Aye, bit if the two Simpsons ur wiped oot at the same time, that wid leave the Milton crowd oan their ain, staunin there haudin their cocks wae naewhere tae put them.  Why the fuck wid they want tae get involved?  Who wid they be supporting then?  Jo Jo Robson and Frisky Frank?  Somehow, Ah cannae see that happening, no if The Big Man is involved,” Snappy threw in.

  “Ah widnae be in a hurry tae dismiss that pair ae basturts.  They could still get hauf ae Possil behind them.  That Mad Malky is still running aboot wae some poor guy’s scalp hinging aff ae his trooser belt, so he is,” Simon reminded them.

  “Okay, where ur ye coming fae then, Tony?” Pat finally asked.

  “We need tae get oor thinking caps oan before they basturts hiv another pop at us.  Efter whit happened tae Joe, they’ll be happy wae any ae us, even though it’s me they really want.”

  “Ye should’ve heard that Toby wan, ranting like the psycho he is, in Burns’s the other night there.  Ah thought he wis gonnae burst a blood vessel.  The madness wis oozing oot ae him.  He couldnae finish his pint because ae aw the slobber that wis flying oot ae that mad foaming mooth ae his.  Tony’s right, Toby and Jo Jo made it clear that they wur gonnae start oan us, unless Tony agreed tae meet up wae them…jist fur a chat...tae clear the air, wance and fur aw,” Simon telt them again, tae smirks fae the others.

  “We need tae furget Toby and start working oot how we get tae Tam.  We need tae find oot whit his movements ur, where he goes during the day and if he’s oan his lonesome at any time.  And remember, we cannae let anywan know that we’re sniffing aboot.  They basturts ur no daft, so they’re no.  Wan whisper and they’ll be doon oan us like a ton ae bricks.  We hiv tae get the info quickly, withoot showing oor haun.  That’s the priority.”

  “Whit aboot Peter, Ben and Jake?”

  “Whit aboot them?” Tony asked.

  “They’re aw in this as well.  They’ll be well pissed aff that we’ve left them oot ae this and they don’t know whit the score is,” Snappy added, looking across at Simon and Pat, who nodded in agreement.

  “Ah think we’ve goat tae deal wae this ma way.  Ah’ve nae problem involving them, bit let’s leave it the noo.  Ah don’t want everywan running aboot trying tae find oot whit the fuck Tam Simpson’s up tae.  It’ll be too obvious.  We need tae try and keep things the way they ur,” Tony emphasized.

  “Like gaun aboot keeping oor heids doon and the tails between oor legs?” Snappy asked sarcastically.

  “We’ll bring them in tae it nearer the time,” Tony said, ignoring the catty remark.  “The less people who know whit the score is jist noo, the better.”

  “So, whit ur ye really saying, Tony?” Pat asked, the three ae them looking intently at him.

  “Look, Ah’m no suggesting that any ae them widnae dae a good job.  Ma instinct is tae keep the numbers involved in this tae a minimum fur the time being.  If word goat oot that it wis us that let it slip that Pat Molloy is back oan the scene, we’re fucked.  We kin tell the others whit’s gaun oan and involve them wance we know mair aboot whit we’re daeing, in a day or two.  They won’t hiv a problem wae that.  And another thing…they pair ae wankers, The Stalker and Bumper, ur sniffing aboot, so we hiv tae watch whit we’re daeing, a lot mair than usual.”

  As they wur leaving, Pat held back.  Tony thought it wis tae haun back the ring and hiv a discussion aboot how much he could get fur it as Pat wis the jewellery expert.

  “So, where did the ring come fae, Tony?”

  “A hoose doon in the West End.”

  “Ah know that, bit whit Ah mean is, who passed it oan tae yersel?”

  “Ah promised no tae say.”

  “Ye did, did ye?”

  “Aw, c’mone, Pat.”

  “Naw, this is important.  Tell me who passed oan the ring?”

  “Harper Harris.”

  “So, it wis him.  It’s funny, bit Ah knew it wid be him.  He wis in the pub looking fur ye, the night Joe goat chibbed...and then he wis back the night efter.  He jist aboot hid kittens when Frisky Frank walked in and telt Simon that Toby Simpson and Jo Jo Robson wis waiting across in Burns’s.  How much wis he asking fur it?”

  “A hunner.”

  “Well, it’s worth that, any day ae the week.  Did ye cough up the money?”

  “Naw.  Ah telt him that Ah’d need tae speak tae yersel first.  Ah didnae know that it wis worth five grand at the time.”

  “Right, well, that’s a good omen.  Maybe oor luck is changing fur the better.  Harper Harris is oor man, if we want tae know whit Tam Simpson’s movements ur these days.”

  “Ye think so?”

  “Oh aye, bit we’ll need tae tread carefully though.  Harper’s a right fearty, so he is, bit he fucking hates The Simpsons.  Apart fae Tam breaking his fingers fur trying tae wangle an extra couple ae bob oot ae him o’er a deal wae a couple ae candlesticks, it wis Tam and Toby that murdered that brother-in-law ae his, Hawkeye Campbell.  It wis them that nailed the poor basturt tae a door, efter torturing him fur ages somewhere, before dumping his body up in some field in Lambhill.  When ur ye meeting up wae him?”

  “The night, wance ye haun o’er a hunner quid,” Tony replied, wae a smile oan his coupon.

  “Where aboot?”

  “The Scotia Bar, doon beside the Clyde.”

  “The Scotia?  Whit wid ye want tae go aw the way doon there fur?”

  “As ye’ve jist said yersel, he’s nervous and wants tae go somewhere where he wullnae be recognised.  He says that it’s aw folk singers and hippies that drink in there and that he disnae think any ae The Simpson crowd wid be intae aw that guff.”

  “Right, Ah’m gaun wae ye.  It’ll be interesting tae hear whit he’s saying.”

  “That’s fair enough wae me.  Ah don’t really know him and his nervousness makes me nervous.”