The Silver Arrow (36 page)

  “Right, look efter yersel, Johnboy.  And don’t you worry aboot a thing.  Ah’m oan the case noo,” Snappy said, gieing him a bear hug, as Tony’s eyes rolled skywards, behind Snappy’s back.

  “Johnboy, don’t listen tae a fucking thing he says.  Ah’ll make sure he’s nowhere near anything that’s gaun doon, so don’t you worry.  Tony will get everything sorted oot, wae ma help,” Pat said, gieing him a slap oan the side ae the heid, before following Snappy towards the dining hall door.

  “Look, whitever plans ye hiv fur the future between us or between yersel and Senga, ye know Ah’m behind ye.  That goes fur aw ae us,” Tony reminded him, smiling.

  “Aye, Ah know…thanks, Tony.  Jist you mind and keep her safe, that’s aw that matters tae me,” Johnboy said, wondering who the fuck he wis gonnae end up sitting wae, noo that they wur disappearing.

“Oh, and this is fur you.  Ah tried reading it a few times before Ah goat lifted, bit never managed tae get roond tae finishing it.  It’s aboot painting and decorating, so maybe ye’ll be able tae make sense ae it wance ye start yer new job.  Ah goat Kim Sui tae dig it oot and post it in tae me.  It arrived oan Friday,” Tony said, haunin o’er a copy ae Robert Tressell’s ‘The Ragged Trousered Philanthropist,’ before heiding aff tae catch up wae the other two.

  “By the way, Father, don’t believe that lying prick, Johnboy.  None ae us said ye wurnae welcome tae come and sit and hiv a bite tae eat wae us at oor last meal,” he heard Snappy telling the priest, as the three Mankys disappeared through the dining room door, withoot a backward glance, leaving him sitting there oan his lonesome, taking him back tae that first day ae his in The Grove, in the mid sixties, when he wis ten years auld.

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

  Dumfries is in mourning tonight after two dedicated and respected prison officers were killed in a car crash and another two critically injured in the early hours of this morning on the A75 Dumfries to Stranraer Road.  The men, all officers working at Dumfries Young Offenders Institution, were travelling to catch the ferry from Stranraer to Belfast, where they were due to begin working in the Province’s H-Blocks for the Christmas and New Year period.  Police have refused to release the names of those killed until relatives have been informed.  The two injured officers have been transferred to Glasgow Royal infirmary from Dumfries.  Late this afternoon, a hospital spokesman confirmed that one officer, believed to be twenty-eight-year-old Mr Henry Dong, was giving cause for concern, whilst the other officer, believed to be Alastair Cherrie, remains in a stable condition in intensive care.  The Scottish Home and Health Department in Edinburgh confirmed that Special Branch officers and Northern Ireland forensics teams have been present at the scene most of today. There is speculation tonight that the brakes or steering column of the car, understood to belong to Senior Officer Donald Dick, had been tampered with.  The evening news can confirm that no other vehicle was involved in the crash, which happened on a stretch of the road known by locals as the Low Road.  The Union Jack at all Scottish Prisons throughout the country are at half mast tonight.  Brave Scottish prison officers have been playing their part against terrorism by working alongside colleagues in Northern Ireland for a number of years now and…

Glasgow’s most notorious car driver has caused outrage once again by driving his 1930s Mercedes-Benz W125 sports car, with an output of 646hp, capable of reaching speeds of a hundred and eighty miles an hour, through the streets of The West End into the centre of the city late last night.  The Silver Arrow also changed his route from previous outings, as he was being pursued along the city’s Great Western Road, before racing down Anniesland Road and heading back in to the city centre via Dumbarton Road.  This is the first time that The Silver Arrow has entered the city centre.  The deafening noise from the engine of the Mercedes Benz classic racing car is said to have woken half the city’s residents and pet dogs from their slumbers, as its powerful engine screamed defiance, leaving in its wake the fifteen super-charged police vehicles, which have been specifically drafted in to stop the car mayhem.  Politicians have become outraged at the recurring nightmare for West End residents and are questioning why this has been allowed to go on for as long as it has.  Concern is also growing that it is only a matter of time before a police driver is killed in the high-powered car chases that are leaving police vehicles wrecked, with parts from them strewn all over the roads in that part of the city.  Seven police officers have been treated in two different casualty departments, due to their vehicles leaving the road or colliding with others during the pursuit.  Already children are dashing on to one of Europe’s busiest roads in search of car and engine parts, as trophy pieces, on their way to school, whilst young girls’ bedroom walls are being adorned with photos of the mystery driver, sitting in his powerful sports car with a clenched fist in defiance of the local constabulary.  Psychologist, Professor Edwin Smith of Glasgow University, stated that the mystery driver is possibly a young man in his early twenties that has a total disregard for law and order.  Whilst The Silver Arrow appears to bring out the rebellious side of young boys, Professor Smith stated quite emphatically, that young girls, particularly those reaching puberty, will be fantasising on what he describes as ‘The James Dean Syndrome.’  On hearing of Professor Smith’s diagnosis, in particular, the possible effects on young sensitive girls, local church leaders across all denominations in the city have called on the authorities to immediately bring in helicopters or small planes before the corruption of the city’s youth spirals out of control.  In response, Glasgow Police have announced tonight that they will be hiring private helicopters in their endeavours to apprehend The Silver Arrow.  Cathcart MP, Mr Teddy Taylor, has called on police marksmen to be allowed to shoot out the tyres of the sports car…

  A man has been sentenced to five years at The High Court in Glasgow after being found guilty of abducting and raping a pretty seventeen-year-old female as she walked home after a night out with friends in September.  During the trial, the attractive teenager was aggressively cross-examined by twenty-seven-year-old Paul Butcher’s defence team, causing her to repeatedly break down in the witness box.  Butcher was observed to be smiling at the distress of the witness.  At one stage, Lord Campbell of Claremyle called for a thirty-minute recess to allow the victim time to compose herself before continuing with her evidence.  Women’s groups in the city say they are appalled at the treatment of the victim by Butcher’s defence lawyers and have called for screening to be introduced.  They have also condemned the leniency of the sentence…”

Chapter Forty Seven

  The Mankys hid been sitting, maistly in silence, oan Montieth Row, facing Glesga Green, since jist before eight o’clock, periodically starting up the engine so they could get some heat fae the blower.  The plan…if ye could call it that…wis fur Tony jist tae stroll across fae where they wur parked tae the entrance ae The People’s Palace.  Even that late in the morning, the grass oan The Green still hid a crisp covering ae white frost oan it.  They’d sat admiring the pocket-hordes ae wummin and young lassies earlier, scurrying alang Montieth Row every five minutes, efter being drapped aff ae the buses, back oan the corner ae The Saltmarket and Greendyke Street…aw well wrapped up, as they hurriedly heided in the direction ae Templeton’s Carpet Factory, chattering excitedly and smoking as they went.  Fae where they wur sitting, they hid a good, clear view, ae the entrance tae The Palace.  They’d literally jist arrived oan the scene when Ben hid goat intae an argument wae some auld Hitler impersonator they supposed wis wan ae the managers fae the carpet factory.

  “I’ve parked here, on this very spot, for the past ten years.  Everyone knows that,” the grey haired auld prick hid bleated, looking straight at them fae the driver’s seat ae his shiny, auld, two-tone Rover P6 car, clearly expecting them tae move oan tae allow his lordship tae retain his self-awarded parking place.

  “Aye, well, normal programming will be resumed and back tae normal the morra morning, so fuck aff, Adolf,” Ben hid telt him oot ae the passenger’s side windae as Jake switched aff the engine and the auld grumpy basturt drove aff in a huff tae try and compete fur a space amongst the shoap flair workers.  “Kin ye believe the cheek ae that auld basturt?” Ben hid asked in wonder, shaking that heid ae his.

  “Aye, ye’ve spoiled his day noo.  Some poor basturt’s gonnae end up getting the sack because ae you, Ben, ya selfish prick, ye,” Jake hid accused him fae the driver’s seat.

  Tony smiled.  He’d missed the banter fae that pair.  They worked well thegither.  He looked at his watch.  It wis quarter tae ten.  They’d sat and watched the museum staff arrive jist before nine.  There hidnae appeared tae be any visible evidence ae a threat fae that quarter.  Since hauf nine, the public visitors hid started tae arrive in dribs and drabs, either oan foot or in cars.  A bus hid arrived and disgorged a squad ae chattering primary school kids.  They’d sat smirking, exchanging wan-liners aboot whit they’d like tae dae tae the young female teachers and hid agreed wae wan another that they couldnae remember their teachers being that gorgeous when they wur at school.  Wan-bob wis still naewhere tae be seen.

  “Ye don’t think he’s gieing us a dizzy, dae ye?” Ben asked, turning roond tae face Tony in the back seat.

  “Only if he heard you wur gonnae be here,” Jake murmured, scanning the horizon.

  Tony hid been wondering that himsel.  He didnae feel comfortable sitting where they wur.  Even though Simon wis sitting wae Snappy and Peter alang oan Greenheid Street, keeping an eye open there, he felt too exposed.  Wae the cars parked up behind and in front ae them, it widnae take much fur them tae be blocked in by another car if somewan wanted tae dae them a bit ae damage.  Ben hid a loaded sawn-aff sitting resting oan his lap, under a folded Glesga Echo, and Jake wis sitting wae two loaded haunguns oan him, wae the safety catches aff.  If they wur gonnae get ambushed, it wid be bloody.  Efter picking them up at the railway station in Kilmarnock oan the Monday, they’d heided straight intae the toon centre, taking a wee detour via the Clyde Tunnel.  Ben hid wanted them tae see the state ae the walls oan the buildings oan either side ae Finnieston Lane.  The Cavalier wis long gone, bit the cobbles and the bottom hauf ae the walls ae the buildings wur a greyish ash-white due tae the intensity ae the heat fae the car.  Above twelve or thirteen feet, the walls wur black fae the oily soot, up as far as the roof ae the warehooses oan either side ae the lane.  It looked as if a bomb hid gone aff.  Pat hid been moaning like fuck, saying that he wanted Ben tae drap him aff across at Paula’s, bit Simon hid telt him that he’d hiv tae get Jake tae dae that later oan, as he hid tae go and see a man aboot some carpets. 

  “Some fucking welcome back, this, eh?” Snappy hid moaned tae Tony and Pat as they wur drapped aff ootside DIRTY JAKE’S BOUTIQUE in Buchanan Street.

  “Aye, well, o’er tae you noo, Tony, ya prick, ye.  It’s aw yours,” Simon hid said, laughing, as him and Ben drove aff, leaving them staunin there in the middle ae the morning traffic, the three ae them wincing when the car nearly ran o’er a wan-legged pedestrian, who jist managed tae get aff ae the road.

  Efter soaking in the surreal madness ae being back in the toon centre again and being pleasantly surprised at the assault oan their ears fae the growl ae traffic and the honking ae horns, the three ae them hid looked at each other, before turning and walking intae the boutique.  Wance inside, the three ae them hid clocked a nice-looking wee student-type lassie, staunin behind a glass-topped coonter, no saying a word as she looked at them.

  “Is Jake aboot?” Pat hid asked her.

  “Ah think he’s in the men’s section,” she’d replied, pointing aff tae their right.

  The three ae them hid walked up the set ae stairs thegither.

  “Surprise!” everywan hid shouted, laughing.

  Aw the lassies and Peter hid been hiding.  The pop ae Champagne corks hid reminded Tony ae the sound ae the auld cork guns that ye goat tae shoot the ducks aff ae their perches at the shows oan Glesga Green when he wis a snapper.  Kim Sui hid come across and gied him a big kiss and a cuddle before bursting oot greeting as the party goat under way.  Simon and Ben hid arrived a few minutes later, efter parking the car.

  “Ah knew ye wur up tae something, ya prick, ye,” Snappy hid shouted at Ben. 

  Efter being ceremonially haunded back his long-lost Sun Tzu book, The Art ae War, before they’d aw decanted tae McCall’s oan Hope Street at five o’clock, he’d managed tae hiv a quick chat wae Senga.  She’d looked as gorgeous as ever and hid telt him aboot the ‘Free Johnboy Taylor’ campaign group her and Michelle Hope hid formed wae the rest ae the Springburn lassies.

  “Obviously any contacts in the papers that ye know ae wid be a big help.  Pearl Campbell is coming doon fae Elgin in a couple ae weeks, so she’s gonnae gie us a few tips oan how tae deal wae the press,” she’d telt him.

  “Don’t worry, Senga…anything ye need, ye jist hiv tae ask and it’ll be there…nae questions asked,” he’d reminded her.

  He hidnae known fur certain whit Johnboy’s decision wis until he’d spoken wae Senga.  He wid’ve liked tae hiv heard it fae Johnboy himsel, bit he didnae hate him fur it…in fact, he could totally understaun.  There wis Paul, wae his new life in the Highlands, fighting his ain battles wae the local landowners, bringing up his weans oan a crust…he supposed it could be attractive if ye wur that way inclined and hid the right wummin behind ye in yer life.  Paul hid a clear purpose and went at it wae relish.  The last time Tony hid seen him, he’d hid a black eye where he’d run intae a tree efter copping a load ae buckshot in that arse ae his fae wan ae the local gamekeepers.

  “Christ, ye’d be safer running aboot in the toon, Paul,” he’d said tae him laughing, as Paul flashed him his lead peppered-riddled arse.

  Tony jist couldnae fathom oot why somewan hid tae move away fae everything and everywan ye cared fur tae be happy though.  He supposed that wis the wummin’s influence.  Lovely though Senga wis, he knew she widnae be the type tae share her man wae anywan…unless she wis in charge ae the vetting process.  There hid been times in Dumfries when he’d clocked Johnboy flagging.  Tony hid tried everything he could tae lift his spirits up, bit the impact ae the length ae his sentence and the fact that he’d been convicted fur something he hidnae done, hid obviously been eating away at him.  He could understaun that.  Getting three years fur extorting money fae Wee Pie and his family hid been a total travesty and the times in the jail he’d kicked himsel silly fur no jist daeing away wae the slanty-eyed wee basturt the first time he’d ripped him aff, hid driven him up the wall at times.  It hid been the strength ae Johnboy’s feelings and his need tae protect Senga over everything else that hid taken Tony by surprise though.  When he’d found oot that Johnboy hidnae mentioned that The Tormentor hid put his boot through his guitar, Tony’d known fine well whit the score wis.  Johnboy wid’ve known that Tony widnae hiv been able tae stoap Snappy fae retaliating against the basturt.  It wid’ve been the straw that broke the camel’s back and the chances wur, they’d aw still be back doon in Dumfries, lying in the digger, charged wae aw sorts ae assaults.  A few weeks before they’d been released, Snappy hid been gieing Pat a hard time.  Johnboy hid interfered, taking Pat’s side ae the argument, even though Tony’d known fine well that Johnboy didnae agree wae whitever it wis that Pat hid been saying.  Oan the way up the stairs tae their cells, Pat hid commented tae Tony that Johnboy wis probably the nearest thing they hid tae their ain social worker.  Although he’d dismissed whit Pat hid said as a throwaway comment, later oan in bed that night he’d thought aboot it.  If any ae The Mankys wur tae staun back and take a serious look at each other, maist wid probably agree that Johnboy hid been the conscience ae the group.  He’d always been the wan tae challenge their assumptions, even in the face ae ridicule, if he thought they wur oot ae order or talking shite.  While Tony supposed he could understaun Johnboy no wanting Senga harmed in any way, tae choose her o’er everywan else, given his failed track record wae her in the past, hid surprised Tony.  He hoped the new Guild guitar he’d goat Simon tae buy oot ae McCormack’s in Bath Street the day before and tae post first class doon tae Dumfries wid ease Johnboy’s situation.  He blamed the wee sleekit priest.  He should’ve known whit kind ae influence he’d hiv oan somewan like Johnboy…an unsuspecting Proddy.  Tony hid repeatedly warned Johnboy aboot getting too close tae the God Man, bit he hidnae fucking listened and noo it looked like it wis too late.  The sad thing aboot it wis that Johnboy wid jist be another etched statistic oan the hunchback’s auld wooden cross.  Nae doubt Johnboy’s ma, Helen, wid be turning in her grave at the closeness between that son ae hers and a bloody priest…or wid she?  Helen’d hid her ain battles wae the priests, bit being predictable probably widnae hiv been something her enemies in The Corporation or The Sheriff Officers offices wid’ve hid her marked doon as.  Whether Johnboy fucked aff somewhere wae Senga or no, efter he eventually goat libbed, wisnae the main issue fur the time being.  Tony hid drapped poor Johnboy, his best pal, intae the pail ae shit he wis noo wallowing in, and it wis up tae him tae dae aw he could tae pull Johnboy back oot ae it.  He thought back tae the day ae the bank job.  Johnboy hid gone aff his heid when Tony hid telt him he wisnae tae be part ae it.

  “Why?”

  “Because there’s another equally important job needing done elsewhere, which will reward us mair in the long run than whit we’ll ever take fae the bank…that’s why,” he’d informed Johnboy.

  “Get somewan else,” Johnboy hid retorted, no even asking whit the other job wis.

  “Ah’m getting you, Johnboy.  You’re the only wan Ah kin trust tae make sure that it’s done right.  If Ah could get away wae daeing it masel, Ah’d be in there like a shot, so Ah wid.  Noo, stoap fucking moaning,” he’d argued.

  Pat Molloy, The Big Man, hid approached him a week earlier oan wan ae his extended trips back fae Spain.

  “Ah need Johnboy tae go wae Shaun oot tae Linwood tae pick up a package aff ae a bizzy inspector fae Paisley, so Ah dae,” The Big Man hid said.

  “Where the fuck’s Linwood?”

  “Ah’ve jist telt ye…oot near Paisley, where they make the cars.”

  “Why Johnboy?” he’d stupidly asked, insteid ae staunin up and walking away.

  “He’s the only wan that Shaun will trust…that’s why.  If it wis anywan else, he’d smell a rat.”

  It hid been that last statement that hid set aff the alarm bells.

  “A package ye said?”

  “Aye, that and another wee job.”

  “Ah’m listening.”

  “Shaun’s no been happy since Ah replaced him wae Wan-bob.  In fact, he’s fucking aboot, daeing wee independent deals here and there wae people Ah widnae piss oan if they wur oan fire.”

  “So?”

  “So, Shaun drives Johnboy oot tae the Rangers Social Club in Linwood.  Johnboy nips in and picks up the package and takes it back tae the car.  Shaun then heids fur the Erskine Bridge, which is jist alang the road fae Linwood.  Oan the other side ae the bridge, there’s a wee layby tucked away oan the left, surrounded by trees and bushes.  Johnboy hauns o’er the package tae a guy called Sammy Elliot…”

  “The Rat?  The journalist fae The Glesga Echo?”

  “Aye, noo stoap fucking interrupting me, especially when Ah’m in full flow.  Wance he hauns the package o’er, that’s it.”

  “Whit’s whit?”

  “When The Rat drives aff, Johnboy plugs Shaun in the heid.  Simple.”

  “He won’t dae it.  Ye don’t know Johnboy,” Tony hid protested.

  “He’s the only wan ae youse that Shaun will trust tae be in the same car oan his lonesome wae.  Anywan else, and he’ll smell a rat,” The Big Man hid repeated, smiling at his ain joke.  “Wance he bumps Shaun, he’s tae walk across the road tae the layby oan the opposite side.  Charlie Hastie will be waiting tae take him back intae the toon.”

  “Whit aboot prints in the car?”

  “Spotty Hector and Chic Shand will be wae Charlie.  They’ll take the car, wae Shaun in it and dispose ae it.  There won’t be any traces left wance they’re finished wae it.”