The Silver Arrow (2 page)

Chapter Two

  Robert The Beast heard the footsteps approaching well before he clocked that reflection ae his staring up at him fae the two black shiny toecaps that hid suddenly appeared under his nose.  He looked up, wet cloth in haun, feigning surprise at the interruption.

  “Whit’s wae aw the flushing ae the lavvy then, Connor?” Hutchison, the senior officer and corridor gatehoose keeper demanded tae know, looking aboot the wee toilet suspiciously.

  “It wisnae flushing away, sir.  Every time Ah flushed the pan, the water wis rising tae the tap, bit it’s clear noo…look,” The Beast replied, before stretching up and gieing the dangling chain a tug, as the screw peered intae the swirling bowl.

  “Any time there’s a problem, ye come tae wan ae us and we’ll get the plumber o’er.  Hiv ye goat that?”

  “Aye…sorry, sir, Ah’ll keep that in mind,” he replied, as The Gatekeeper aboot-turned and walked back tae the first ae the two barred gates at the far end ae the corridor.

  “Cunt!” The Beast hissed under his breath, as he lifted his right palm aff ae the tiled flair, exposing the wee clutch ae red dust and brick fragments he’d been concealing.

  He waited until he heard the second gate being slammed shut loudly and locked before crouching doon further and peering at his handiwork.  He’d spent the past two weeks chipping away at the centre ae a brick wae a shiny stainless steel putty knife that hid been awarded tae Nelson, the civvy painting and decorating training manager, way back in 1956, fur being the apprentice knob-eater ae the year.  The Beast hid come across it doon the back ae wan ae Nelson’s filing cabinets, while he wis supposed tae be cleaning the office.  He studied his handiwork. The hole wis oblong-shaped, aboot five inches wide by aboot three inches high and went right through the wall, jist underneath the cistern.  This wis his second stab at it as it hidnae been big enough fur whit he’d intended oan his first attempt.  He’d been able tae push the bigger bits ae brick roond the bend ae the waste pipe wae his haun and hid happily discovered that it wis easy jist tae flush away the wee dusty crumb particles if he put plenty ae toilet paper intae the pan before flushing it.  He could barely contain himsel as he felt a surge ae excitement.  He stood up, making sure that he wiped the dusty patch wae his damp cloth, before peering doon at the pan and cistern fae aw angles.  Satisfied, he slung the cloth intae his bucket ae water.  He picked the bucket up and moved oot intae the corridor, quietly pulling o’er the door behind him and gieing the bitch’s office door, at the far end ae the corridor, a quick glance as he scurried intae his cubby store, oot ae sight ae the screw, who wis perched oan his stool behind the glass plated windae oan the other side ae the two barred gates, reading the sports section ae The Glesga Echo.  He stood and steadied himsel, inhaling the flair-polish-fumed fetid air ae his cubby-hole doon intae his lungs.  He could feel his heartbeat thumping aff ae his collarbone.

  “Steady, Robert…steady, son,” he murmured tae himsel, trying tae suppress the semi-hard-on that hid started tae thicken in his underpants efter he spotted the shadowy reflection moving across the light fae the windae in the bitch’s office being reflected aff the lino oan the flair, under the bottom ae her door.

  He took another deep breath and pulled the cubby door o’er and stood in the darkness wae the light aff, counting doon fae ten.  Looking doon, he grunted in satisfaction.  He couldnae detect any light emanating fae next door via the hole, despite hivving deliberately left the bitch’s lavvy light oan.  He knelt doon, heart starting tae gather speed again, as he pulled the heavy box full ae white soap bars aff ae the bottom shelf.  He felt his cock starting tae stir again, as a beam ae light suddenly shot oot fae the hole, illuminating a bright square patch oan the flair.  He turned and put his ear against the door and listened.  Nothing.  He quickly crouched doon and hid a wee peek.  Aw he could see wis the flair reflecting aff the underside ae the white, enamelled cistern and the bare wall opposite the pan.  He squinted alang the underside ae the shelf jist above the hole.  He reached oot and withdrew a twelve-inch wooden ruler oot fae between the screws ae the bracket that wis haudin the shelf in place.  He quickly started tae take the white bars ae soap oot ae the cardboard box until he found whit he wis looking fur. Using the beam ae light fae the hole tae see whit he wis daeing, he gently unfolded the yellow duster, exposing the wee mirror and bulldog clip.  It took him barely two seconds tae clamp the mirror oan tae the end ae the ruler before gently and carefully edging the mirror end horizontally through the hole in the wall.  He gasped, feeling that cock ae his instantly harden against the elastic ae his underpants, as the ceiling light straight above where the bitch’s heid wid be when she wis sitting oan the pan appeared, reflected in the mirror.  He couldnae contain himsel, and wae his free haun, unzipped that fly ae his and starting chugging away furiously.  He wis that excited, he didnae last long before letting oot a wee muffled, suppressed whimper, as he shot his load across the tap layer ae the bars ae soap in the box, involuntarily letting go ae the ruler and watching horrified as the weight ae the clamped mirror pulled the ruler through the hole.  It hid completely vanished oot ae sight.  He quickly scrambled tae his feet, stuffing his sticky hard-on back intae his troosers as he quickly zipped himsel up.  He casually opened his cubby-hole door and walked oot intae the dazzling bright light ae the corridor, keeping his body turned sideways, tae avoid SO Hutchison clocking that cock ae his pushing against the front ae his troosers like a toppled totem pole.  Wance back inside the bitch’s lavvy, he couldnae contain himsel and quickly unzipped his fly again and proceeded tae hiv another toss, shooting his white load o’er the black plastic seat, as he steadied himsel by leaning forward, resting his weight oan his haun that wis splayed flat against the tiled wall in front ae him.  Efter stuffing his limp cock back where it belonged, he bent doon and shoved the ruler and mirror back through the hole in the wall, before wiping the bitch’s lavvy seat wae a scrunched-up bit ae toilet paper and flushing it away.

  “Is that still clogging up?” The Gatekeeper shouted fae behind the glass, looking at him as he emerged back intae the corridor.

  “Naw, sir, Ah wis jist putting a disinfectant block intae the cistern.  That’s me finished in there,” he shouted, before scurrying back intae his cubby-hole tae wait, barely able tae contain the excitement in that voice ae his as he heard the social worker’s office door open and Fanny Flaw’s footsteps heiding in the direction ae the lavvy next door.

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

 
Two young children were killed in a head-on road crash on Edinburgh Road, in front of The Shotts Hotel, this morning.  It is believed that the children were sitting in the back of an Austin 1300, being driven by their father, when it shot through a red traffic light at the junction of Shotts Road, into the path of an articulated lorry.  The eastbound section of the road was blocked off for several hours, causing heavy congestion…

  Engineers have downed tools and walked out on unofficial strike action after union officials failed to reach a pay settlement at McDuff and Sons Engineering on The Broomielaw this afternoon.  Management have called the walk-out ‘madness’ as it was revealed that the order for delivering turbine engines to the Far East is three months overdue…

  Nine opposition football supporters have each been fined twenty pounds at the Central District Court today after pleading guilty to fighting on the platform of Queen Street subway in March of this year…

  It was all money in the bank for a Cowcaddens’ youth when he was rewarded with five pounds after he handed in a leather pouch containing over two hundred pounds yesterday.  Grateful owner, Honest John McCaffrey, millionaire owner of Honest John’s Kitchen Essentials on Dumbarton Road, praised fifteen-year-old Gerald Dunlop’s
honesty for handing over the pouch to a policeman on duty on Woodlands Road.  Young Gerald’s employer, Mr Simon Epstein of Carpet Capers Warehouse on Shamrock Street also rewarded the honest younger by awarding him a further ten pounds…

  A forty-four-year-old women was found hanged in the Marine Police Court cells this morning, only minutes before she was due to be sentenced for rent arrears dating back to nineteen seventy two.  Agnes Stewart, a single mother of three school-aged children had previously appeared in front of Justice of the Peace Brian MacDonald, and was warned that failure to pay back the arrears could result in a custodial sentence…

In the same court, a seventeen-year-old mother of two was fined fifteen pounds for stealing milk from outside a grocer’s shop on Saracen Street, Possilpark, before it opened in the morning.  Margaret Hamilton claimed the milk was for her children, as she had no money.  Fining her, Justice of the Peace MacDonald told Hamilton that if everyone who didn’t have money just went about helping themselves to other people’s property, then there would be anarchy on the streets…”

Chapter Three

  Senga started tae feel a bit uncomfortable.  The man in the bowler hat, sporting the droopy moustache, sitting between and tae the left ae her and Johnboy’s lawyer, dressed aw in black, who looked like wan ae the Thompson Twins oot ae a Herge’s Adventures ae Tintin book, hidnae said a word in aw the time she’d been sitting in Graham Portoy’s bright, modern office, doon in Bath Street, other than tae gie her a wee nod efter they’d been first introduced.

  “This is Mr Swansea, Miss Jackson.  He’s my precognition officer.  If it’s alright with you, he’ll take down some notes whilst we discuss the reason behind your appointment.”

  “Swansea?”

  “He’s Welsh.”

  “Precognition officer?”

  “Oh, basically, Swansea interviews witnesses, takes statements from people who may or may not be able to assist in the cases of my clients.  Research assistant would be a more appropriate title, I suppose, but the legal profession prefers to use terms and titles so as to impress and hopefully dupe people into believing they know more than they actually do,” he’d replied, smiling easily.

She’d asked Simon Epstein if he wanted to come in wae her, bit he’d refused.

  “Too busy,” he’d telt her.  “Bit while ye’re in there, kin ye gie Graham this?” he’d asked her, haunin o’er a broon envelope.

  “Whit’s in it?” she’d asked, squeezing the envelope wae her fingers suspiciously.

  “Ma final payment fur legal costs tae dae wae no hivving an up-tae-date tax disc.”

  “Whit…will Ah jist haun it o’er tae the receptionist then?”

  “Naw, it his tae be haunded tae Graham Portoy in person,” he’d replied pleasantly, as he drapped her and her flatmate, Lizzie Mathieson, aff ootside the front entrance in Bath Street.

  “Oh, in case Ah furget, this is fur you,” she’d said, attempting tae haun o’er the broon envelope.

  The lawyer hidnae made any move tae accept it.  Jist when she’d been wondering whit she wis meant tae dae wae it, she’d felt it slip fae between her fingers.  She’d been tempted tae ask The Thompson Twin how he’d managed tae retrieve the envelope fae five feet away withoot Senga being aware that he’d moved, bit hid decided against it.

  Withoot a word, Swansea hid slipped a letter opener, in the shape ae a serpent, oot ae his jaicket sleeve and swiftly slashed the envelope open wae wan quick flick, before returning the knife back tae where it hid emerged fae.  Efter a few seconds ae reading the contents, whit appeared tae be a letter hid then been passed across tae Graham Portoy.

  “Are you aware of the contents of this envelope, Miss Jackson?” The Brief asked, looking up fae the letter.

  “No.”

  “Where did it come from?”

  “A friend…er…an acquaintance…Simon Epstein.  He asked me tae pass it oan tae ye,” she stuttered hesitantly, no too sure why she wis feeling guilty ae committing a crime she wisnae aware hid been committed.  “He said it wis his final payment fur the costs ae his tax disc case or something tae that effect.”

  “I see,” he murmured, haudin her gaze, looking straight intae her eyes.

  “Why, is there something wrang like?”

  “Perhaps you can explain to me exactly what your relationship is with Mr Johnboy Taylor and why you’re here?”

  “Johnboy?  Oh…er…well, we go back a fair bit…tae primary school days, in fact.  We sat thegither in the same class…” she stammered, allowing her voice tae trail aff, managing tae drag her eyes away fae his.

  “I see…and?”

  “And whit?” she hauf yelped, hauf denied defensively, still wondering whit she wis supposed tae hiv done and where the hell the crime hid been committed that she wis obviously guilty ae.

  “Perhaps you can explain why you asked to meet me today.  From the beginning, if you don’t mind?”

  “Well, Ah, er…”

  “And please don’t leave anything out, no matter how irrelevant or unimportant you may think it is,” he purred reassuringly.

  Senga wisnae too sure how long she spoke fur.  It could’ve been twenty minutes or an hour and twenty minutes…she jist wisnae that sure.  She’d burst intae tears a couple ae times, and thanked The Thompson Twin twice fur magically appearing by her side again, haunin o’er a tissue fae the box sitting oan the edge ae The Brief’s desk.  The only time she thought she saw a flicker ae a reaction in they sharp lawyer’s eyes in front ae her, wis when she telt him aboot the relief she’d felt when Simon Epstein hid telt her ootside The Kings Arms Hotel in Lochmaben, oan route tae visit Johnboy in Dumfries Young Offenders Institution, that there wisnae any substance tae her flatmate Lizzie Mathieson’s theory regarding the suspicious death ae two ae her work colleagues up in Stobhill General Hospital. Twenty-year-auld Rose Bain hid been a nursing colleague who worked oan the opposite shift fae Lizzie in the emergency wards.  Wan night, efter jist finishing a twelve-hour day-shift, Lizzie hid been asked by the ward sister, at short notice, if she could fill in fur Rose Bain, who’d called in sick at the last moment. During the night, Lizzie hid overheard the death-bed confession ae wan ae her patients, in a family room which hid been set aside fur patients who wurnae expected tae make it, tae a polis inspector who’d somehow managed tae blag his way oan tae the ward and who went by the name ae The Stalker. Lizzie hid eventually evicted the polis inspector, efter they’d exchanged heated words and she’d threatened tae press the alarm button fur assistance.  It hid been quite clear that the patient wis stressing efter being mercilessly questioned by the inspector. It hid also been obvious tae Lizzie that the duty doctor at the time hid been in cahoots wae The Stalker and hid allowed the inspector access tae the patient efter the ward sister hid went fur her tea break at wan o’clock in the morning.  Although stressful at the time, Lizzie hid soon furgoatten aw aboot the matter and hid goat oan wae her job.  That wis, until the staff nurse, Rose Bain, that Lizzie hid filled in fur, hid subsequently died a month or so later, efter being run o’er by a transit van that hid failed tae stoap ootside the hospital oan Balgrayhill Road, jist efter she’d
finished the back shift at eleven o’clock wan evening. It hid also been roond aboot the time ae Rose Bain’s death, that a thirty-two-year-auld doctor hid been found hinging fae a staircase bannister in his big plush hoose across in Pollock.  The newspaper reports claimed that the death appeared tae be as a result ae suicide.  Doctor Walsh hid been the doctor oan duty the night the dying patient, a gangster type called Haufwit Simpson, hid babbled oot a string ae death-bed confessions tae the polis inspector.  Lizzie Mathieson hid finally realised that her life could be in danger when she made the connection between the deaths ae Rose Bain and Doctor Walsh efter she’d read in The Glesga Echo that a poultry farmer by the name ae McPherson, who farmed oot near Alexandria in Dunbartonshire, hid drapped a fag in his bed efter falling asleep and hid perished alang wae a couple ae his sheepdugs.  The gangster, Haufwit Murray, hid also mentioned a poultry farmer called McPherson who lived oot near Alexandria as being involved in the disappearance and murder ae a big time Glesga gangster fae Milton, called Blaster Mackay a few years earlier.  This Haufwit Murray hid also, in fits and starts due tae his injuries, informed The Stalker aboot a stream ae incidents regarding who hid killed who in whit the newspapers referred tae at the time, back in 1971, as an underworld turf war.  Astonishingly, Johnboy Taylor, a boy Senga hid known…and loved, since her primary school days, who wis currently serving fourteen years, the longest sentence ever handed doon tae a young person under the age ae twenty wan in Scotland, fur shooting two polis officers during a bank robbery in Maryhill, hid been declared innocent ae the crime that he wis daeing time fur by the dying gangster. When she finished gieing her statement, the lawyer asked her tae go o’er the story again.  She wisnae too sure how their system operated, bit before she started her tale again, the door aff tae her right opened and a smartly dressed young wummin in a grey two piece suit, her auburn hair tied up in a bun at the back, who looked tae be in her mid tae late twenties, padded silently across the carpet tae The Thompson Twin.  Jist as quietly as she’d arrived, The Lady in Grey, aboot turned and disappeared wae his notes in her haun, jist in time fur The Thompson Twin tae blink, before looking across at Senga in anticipation, pen and notepad, wance again, poised and at the ready.

  “And how do you know that the inspector in question was Paddy McPhee, Miss Jackson?” The Brief asked her efter she’d finished dabbing they eyes ae hers again wae a tissue.

  “Ah don’t, bit the description fae Lizzie hid The Stalker doon tae a T, so she hid.”

  “But, you couldn’t say for certain that it was him?”

  “No.”

  “You’ve been very patient and understanding, Miss Jackson.  Before we conclude and I meet with your…er…friend, would it be possible for you to read over and perhaps sign a copy of the statement you’ve so kindly furnished me with today?” The Brief asked, as the door, aff tae the right, wance again opened, bang oan cue, and the same silent wummin entered carrying a sheath ae typewritten papers in her haun.

  “Aye, that wid be fine, bit if it’s awright wae yersel, wid ye mind getting The Thompson Twin here tae dispense wae that bowler hat he’s wearing.  Ma flatmate Lizzie kin be a wee bit ae a sensitive soul and is easily freaked oot, so she is,” Senga asked Portoy, putting oan the friendliest smile she could muster under the circumstances.