The Papers of Tony Veitch (19 page)

‘Danny,' Laidlaw said. ‘Where did Paddy Collins ask to meet Eck?'

‘Well. He asked me tae help him there. Well, Ah know Eck, don't Ah? Whit wid be a good place to meet Eck. That's what he's askin' me. Well, it's obvious, isn't it? Eck wis a South Side man. For years. He'd come over the river at times. Of course, he would. Like, his sister's north o' the river. And . . .'

‘His sister?' Laidlaw looked like a small boy who has discovered yet another wondrous fact about the world, like the existence of giraffe-necked ladies. ‘Eck's got a sister alive? He never mentioned her to me.'

‘He wouldn't, would he? Eck wis a decent man, ye know. He knew he wis an affront to his sister. So he never talked about her. Out of respect. But we wis close. So he's mentioned her tae me. Eck loved his sister.'

‘D'you know where she lives?'

‘It's Anderston. The new buildin's. That's all Ah know.'

‘What's her name?'

‘Jinty.'

‘But her second name.'

‘Well. She never married. Must be Adamson.'

Laidlaw looked at Harkness, shook his head and smiled.

‘That's great. We'll find her. Danny. You're like an albatross on land. Beauty in the mask of the commonplace. Oh, pray continue.'

‘Aye. Fair enough. Well, anyway. Ye know?' Danny was fumbling slightly for a road out of his embarrassment. ‘Well. He arranges to meet Eck in the park. The Queen's Park. So Ah tells Eck. But in the evenin'. He's gonny meet 'im.'

‘The Vicky,' Eddie said. ‘That's the obvious place to be taken to from there.'

‘That's right,' Harkness said. ‘Paddy Collins was found outside the park. Don't tell me Eck did him in.'

‘But that was the second last meeting you had with Eck?' Laidlaw expressed it as a question but he didn't wait for an answer. ‘You saw him after that. Wait a minute. What did Eck say about that meeting? Before he went, I mean. When you told him about Paddy's offer. Can you remember?'

‘Eck wis worried. Who wouldn't be? Paddy Collins? Who wants a date wi' a disease? An' Eck says to me. He's gonny take out insurance. That's what he says. Ah remember it. He's gonny take out insurance. That's all he says.'

‘But with what company?' Laidlaw said. ‘That's all we need to know. Who Eck's company was that night. What about the last time you saw Eck, Danny?'

‘Happy as Larry. As if he'd come into a fortune. Money on 'im an' more to come, he said. He gave me two quid. The boat wis in.'

‘That's all?'

‘Well, Ah think Ah know whit it wis.'

The others couldn't have been more attentive if an angel had descended through the domed glass roof. Danny gave them time to appreciate the splendour of his presence.

‘He saw who did in Paddy Collins. Wis a witness. An' ye know who Ah think that wis? That boy Veitch.'

Laidlaw was considering it solemnly, staring ahead. Harkness was nodding. Eddie was watching the two of them.

‘He's got the money,' Harkness said. ‘We know that. Who could better afford to buy people off?'

‘This Tony Veitch is well off?' Eddie asked.

‘He got a lot of loot in his mother's will,' Laidlaw said. ‘But
come on, Brian. Who couldn't afford to buy off a witness to a murder you've committed? You'd print the money if you had to. That doesn't prove too much.'

‘But he had a reason.'

Surprises were getting to be routine with Danny. They all looked at him.

‘He hated Paddy Collins since the time Collins battered his old girlfriend.'

Harkness and Laidlaw looked at each other. Harkness winked and gestured to Laidlaw to stay quiet.

‘Lynsey Farren?' Harkness asked.

‘That's what that big eejit called her,' Danny said. ‘The wan that duffed me up. Paddy Collins gave her a doin'.'

‘And how do you know Tony Veitch was angry about that?'

‘Eck told me, didn't he? Said Tony Veitch wis bealin'. An' he wis a funny boy, that Tony Veitch. From what Ah've heard.'

Harkness looked at Laidlaw. The prosecution rests.

‘Danny,' Laidlaw said. ‘I don't know what you've said means. But it sure as hell means something. Thank you, sir.'

‘Maybe this'll let me off the hook,' Eddie said. ‘I mean, from writing a London
Times
obituary on old Eck. I don't suppose I even need to get you that information.'

‘Naw. Forget it, Eddie,' Laidlaw said.

He reached into his pocket and found a fiver. His hand rested on his knee, holding the note.

‘Tell me something,' he said to Danny. ‘I'm always curious. What possessed you to come and tell us all this now?'

‘The big yin,' Danny said. ‘The man who hit me. Ah'm no' takin' that from anybody. This is me hittin' 'im back. The only
way Ah can these days. Ah'm no' deid yet. If he finds out, Ah might be. But no' yet.'

Laidlaw slipped him the fiver and the three of them stood up, leaving Danny occupying his seat proudly, like a throne. They all said cheerio.

‘Hey!' Danny called and they turned back. He was looking at Laidlaw. ‘Ah didny do it for the money!'

Laidlaw came back a little way.

‘Hey!' he said. ‘I know you didn't.'

They went out along the Kibble Palace towards the exit. Danny sat smiling to himself. Circumstances had kissed the frog. He sat like a prince, remembering how much he had once mattered to certain people.

 

 

 

 

24

F
or Macey the familiarity of the day had fragmented when Lynsey Farren walked into the lounge of the Lorne Hotel like a mannequin parade and the two mates at his table watched her approach as if they were buyers for a surplus store who had wandered into a salon. Since then each next thing had been another shake of a kaleidoscope his hand wasn't holding.

Walking beside her, he felt as conspicuous as a lapel-badge and about as self-determining. The Central Hotel was another strangeness. Its big, weathered exterior, constructed in a time when the power issuing from the steam train had obscured the possibility of alternatives to itself, had been a familiar landmark to him since boyhood but had never seemed more relevant to his life than the Necropolis.

He was entering it for the first time and a couple of porters looked at him as if they knew that. Put a monkey in a toy uniform, Macey thought, and it will try to pull rank. Lynsey Farren went up the wide carpeted staircase in a way that suggested she owned it. Macey watched her buttocks move in her fawn cords as if they were chewing a very sweet caramel. He followed her through the first double doors on his right
and along the corridor past the empty lounge-bar to where the weirdest moment of a weird day was waiting for him.

In the coffee-lounge looking up from an armchair like Lord Saracen receiving guests in his mansion was Dave McMaster. On the table in front of him was a silver coffee service, three cups and a plate of dainty biscuits. One of those Sunday papers that look like a paperback library was open on his knees. What was he doing with it, Macey wondered. Looking at the pictures?

Dave McMaster gestured them to sit down. Macey was relieved. He had thought maybe he was supposed to stand at attention.

‘Coffee?' Dave said and poured two cups. ‘Ah've had mine.'

Macey took his white and, watching Lynsey Farren not bother with milk, the unfamiliarity of where he was came to him again, heightening his senses. He had never understood people taking coffee black. You might as well lay into a cup of cascara. He put three lots of sugar into his own and checked the room.

You could have more fun in a coffin, he thought. There was a man sitting across from them with used coffee-things in front of him. He was reading typewritten sheets of paper and making notes. Probably early thirties, he looked so set already. Macey thought he had probably been born in a pin-stripe suit. The only other people were a middle-aged couple. The man was having a staring contest with the carpet.

‘Lynsey wid tell ye,' Dave said.

Macey found himself too busy chewing a biscuit to answer at once.

‘Ah know about yer connection wi' Big Ernie Milligan.'

Macey had his line ready, might as well try it.

‘He wis tryin' tae nail me for somethin'. But Ah managed tae wriggle out.'

Dave looked at Lynsey Farren and smiled. When he turned the smile on Macey, the eyes had gone dead above it.

‘Good for you. Ah'm that pleased. Very decent of the polis. Tae charge ye in the Albany. Lucky he didny throw you into a pent-house cell.'

‘It wisny a charge, Dave. More a kind of—'

‘More a kind of load of fucking shite,' Dave said quietly. ‘You want to explain it tae Big John? Wriggle out? Be like tryin' tae wriggle out fae under a steam-roller.'

Dave offered him another biscuit but he wasn't hungry.

‘You're a tout, Macey.'

Macey sat sickly still, a man who might just have heard his own epitaph, while Dave held up the reality of his situation against the light, an X-ray plate that only he could interpret.

‘You've pissed on Cam Colvin. And John Rhodes. You shoulda done something cleverer, Macey. Say, playin' at tig wi' King Kong. Macey, Macey. You're very fragile now. You could die of a phone-call.'

‘Ah've never given away anythin' that matters, Dave. Never. Just a lotta stuff that everybody knows anyway. Honest. It's just tae keep Big Ernie off ma back.'

Dave was smiling, solicitous as an undertaker.

‘Maybe ye're tellin' the truth, Macey.'

‘Ah am, Dave. Ah am.'

Dave was considering.

‘Tell ye what. You do somethin' for me an' Ah went blind on Saturday night. Okay?'

In Macey's experience nothing was more suspicious than inexplicable generosity.

‘Whit—'

‘Macey. Whit ye tryin' to do? Drive a bargain or somethin'? The firin' squad's lined up. You tryin' to get a price for the blindfold?'

Macey had to admit to himself he
was
against the wall.

‘Ah'll do it,' he said.

‘Correct. Here's the score. Ah'm more than a wee bit fond o' Lynsey here. An' Tony Veitch is a family friend. He's got to get it from somebody. We want it tae be the polis. Anybody else, it's gonny be awfy sore for him. So Ah'm gonny tell ye where tae find Tony Veitch.'

He did. Macey's day was in such small pieces he could no longer see any shape to it all. Why was he being told this?

‘Because Ah want you tae use that information in a special way. Mickey Ballater's on the hunt for Tony. You're gonny tell 'im where Tony is. There's the number tae phone.'

Macey was wishing he had his name sewn on the inside of his jacket. He would have liked to check.

‘But Ah thought ye want the polis tae find him.'

‘Don't think. Just listen.
Before
you phone Ballater, you phone Ernie Milligan. Once ye're sure the polis'll get there first, then you phone Ballater. It won't be your fault the polis knew before him. And everybody's happy. You. Me. Lynsey. Ballater. Everybody. An' Tony's safely in the nick. A happy ending. Just call me Walt Disney.'

He smiled at Lynsey and she touched his arm affectionately. She had been willing throughout the meeting to let Dave handle
everything. Macey wasn't sure that he shared her willingness – not that he felt like saying.

‘Agreed, Macey?'

‘It's agreed, Dave. Ah'll do it the way you tell me.'

Dave stood up and Lynsey joined him.

‘Tomorrow. Ah've never been in this place in ma life. Macey. Have you?'

‘Never.'

They went out, leaving Macey concussed. Dave doubled back in immediately on his own.

‘Oh, Macey,' he said. ‘Try the wee ginger nuts. They're smashin'. By the way. If ye mix up the order of who ye tell first, Ah won't be worried. As long as ye don't mention it tae Lynsey. Okay?'

Macey was still sitting there trying to work out what was happening when the waitress came up and handed him a piece of paper. It was a bill for coffee and biscuits for three. He sat staring at it, wondering how much was going to be added to it if he wasn't careful.

 

 

 

 

25

S
ometimes the pragmatic leads to wonder, like Columbus setting out on a business enterprise and discovering a new world. They went to Eck Adamson's sister's for information and Laidlaw found a lost part of himself. She was where he came from and had lost touch with.

Anderston wasn't a place where he would have expected to find it. It's an area of the city that memorialises a part of Glasgow's confused quarrel with itself, a warm and vivid slum expensively transformed into a cold and featureless one. Jinty Adamson lived high up in a grey block of flats, as accessible as a bald Rapunzel.

She would be about seventy going on seventeen, with eyes still alive with interest. Once she had established that their credentials made them trustworthy they weren't so much let in as they were ambushed.

‘Ah haveny spoken to anybody since last Thursday. When Ah went out for ma messages. Ah'm surprised ye made it up here wi' the lift broken. An' no even wearin' grimpons.'

The mountaineering references surprised Laidlaw. The accuracy of the pronunciation suggested an aural source. There couldn't be too many sherpas in Anderston. But she explained it.

‘See that,' she said, pointing at the television. ‘Ma best friend. Ah watch everythin'. Ah can tell ye about silver-backed gorillas, life in Bogota or what Annie Walker had for 'er tea. Ah feel like an eagle up here. These wid be great hooses for folk wi' wings.'

It seemed a pity to spoil the pleasure with which she was taking to words like a disembarked sailor to drink. But Laidlaw felt that, if she was going to treat their visit like an unexpected present, they'd better open it for her quickly.