Parly Road: The Glasgow Chronicles 1 (47 page)

  “Jist in time fur a tea break.  Ah hope that saft bampot’s goat biscuits.”

9.20 A.M.

  “Right, Mick…you stay in the car. Danny, ye’re wae me, bit Ah’ll dae aw the talking. If it wisnae them, Ah don’t want it tae be known that we’ve been robbed.”

  “Aw, Ah wanted tae come in.”

  “You stay in the car. If we need ye, ye’ll soon know. Grab any wee shite-hoose ye see bolting oot ae the door ae the cabin though.”

  “Awright, boys?” Shaun announced, as his scar-faced coupon appeared through the beads, followed by Danny.

  “Hellorerr Shaun…grab a seat,” Tony invited, as he stood up tae make room, while Danny stood blocking the door wae wan haun in his jaicket pocket.

  “So, whit hiv youse been up tae then?”

  “Robbing everywan blind, trying tae put the dosh thegither tae pay aff the cabin. Ah came roond tae The McAslin yesterday, bit The Big Man said ye wur busy and ye’d collect yer money the day.”

  “Aye, he said ye wur in. Youse must’ve been busy tae put a score thegither in a week, eh?”

  “Here ye go then. It’s aw there, if ye want tae coont it,” Tony said, trying tae haun o’er eight single pound and four ten bob notes and two bulging smelly socks wae knots in each end, each wae a fiver in coins in them.

  Shaun jist smiled when he saw them.

  “Aye, we think we left something doon in the cavie efter we left. A box ae candles, Ah think Mick said it wis,” Shaun said, searching the eyes ae the boys fur any tell-tale sign ae doo thievery.

  “They wur under the cot. Ah’ve used two ae them,” Skull chipped in, reaching up tae the shelf and taking them doon, as Shaun gied a wee fleeting glance across tae Danny by the door.

  “If it’s aw the same wae youse, we’ll jist hiv a wee gander anyway,” Danny said, as he pulled up the cavie trap door, goat oan his knees and peered doon, pulling a torch oot ae his pocket.

  Johnboy hid the biggest urge ae his life tae use Danny’s back as a springboard oot ae the door, wance Danny’s heid disappeared oot ae sight through the flair. The quick reappearance ae that napper ae his probably saved Johnboy’s as well as everywan else’s lives that morning.

  “Don’t fret, Ah’ll soon replace the two Ah used, Shaun,” Skull murmured sarcastically.

  “Ach, don’t worry. We’ll no fall oot o’er a couple ae candles, eh?” Shaun replied, picking up the two heavy socks wae the coins and throwing them o’er tae Danny.

  “Some wee basturt’s goat rotten feet oan them,” Danny said, haudin the socks away fae himsel.

  “So, whit’s the score wae getting mair doos, Tony?” Shaun asked him, eyes boring intae Skull’s.

  “Noo that we’ve paid youse aff, we’ll be able tae invest in some mair. Ye widnae be in the market tae sell any, seeing as ye’ve goat a ton ae them up in that loft ae yours, wid ye?” Skull retorted before Tony could reply.

  Johnboy jist aboot fainted oan the spot when Skull came oot wae that wan.

  “We’re in the breeding business. We buy…we don’t sell. Ye might want tae hit Paddy’s. They’ve goat plenty in your price bracket.”

  Please, please, please, Skull…please don’t answer that wan…oh God, Johnboy silently prayed.

  “Aye, we’re thinking ae hinging oan tae oor money and trying tae buy an upmarket big Horseman Thief Pouter. There’s a few good wans oan the go, Ah hear, fur us tae start oor ain breeding programme...if we kin bring in some ae they wee hens ae yours that Ah clocked flying aboot aw o’er the roofs this morning.”

  Johnboy wondered why the hell he hidnae taken his chance when Danny’s back wis bent o’er the cavie.  He could feel that arsehole ae his stretching tae breaking point.

  “So, ye’ve goat a wee bit ae dosh put aside, hiv youse?”

  “Naw, bit we will hiv when we dae an all-nighter and take they sheets ae copper sheeting aff the records building up in Sighthill cemetery,” Tony chipped in, tae nervous laughter fae them aw, including Shaun.

  Danny’s face remained dour.

  “Right, boys, we’ve goat things tae dae. We cannae be staunin aboot here talking tae youse young runts aw day. Aw the best wae the cabin and gie’s a shout when ye’re ready tae put a doo up against wan ae oor wee hens, Skull,” Shaun said, staunin up and heiding fur the door.

  “Aye, Ah cannae wait, Shaun.”

9.30 A.M.

  “Ur ye in, Flypast?” Crisscross shouted.

  “Oh, er…hello Crisscross…Sarge. Ah never expected tae see youse here the day,” he said, looking at them, feeling aw flustered and hauf expecting the Murphys tae appear at any second.

  “Is that a wee cup ae tea we kin smell?”

  “Naw, Ah’ve run oot.”

  Flypast wondered whit the fuck these pair ae shite-hooses wur up tae.  Hid the Murphys sent them roond tae check him oot?

  “Ach, well, never mind.  Maybe another time, eh?”

  “Dae youse want tae come in?”

  “Naw, naw, bit we’ve goat a wee present fur ye.”

  “Oh?”

  “Aye, get that arse ae yers doon here and come and hiv a look,” Crisscross said, walking away.

  When Flypast didnae follow, Crisscross stoaped and turned roond, beckoning Flypast tae follow.

  “Well, C’moan…don’t look so confused. Ye’ll be pleased. It’s jist oot in the car.”

  “Oh, er, bit...”

  “It’s awright, Flypast, ya daft eejit. We’re no gonnae bite ye.  Ye’ll be okay. Oot ye come,” encouraged The Sarge, following Crisscross.  “And bring a cardboard box wae ye, while ye’re at it.”

  When flypast came through the close ae wan-wan-five, the two ae them wur staunin at the boot ae the polis car wae big grins spread across their coupons.

  “Right, first of aw, Ah jist want tae officially say sorry fur wrecking yer cabin earlier oan in the summer.  And secondly, tae show ye that we keep oor word and that there’s nae hard feelings oan oor part, these ur fur you,” Crisscross said, opening the boot and chirruping, “Da, da, daaaah!” wae a flourish ae his right erm.

  Flypast jist aboot drapped deid oan the spot.  Where the fuck hid they come fae? Wur they aff that batch fae the previous night? Oh ma God, Ah’m deid, his brain wis screaming as it started tae melt.

  “So, say something then, ya daft sausage, ye,” The Sarge said.

  “Uh, oh, er, four doos. Where did ye get them fae?”

  “Never you mind that, Flypast. Jist you get them intae that wee box ae yours and go and enjoy them. Ah know Ah probably killed mair than four daeing ma Batman impersonation, bit it’s a start, eh?”

  “Er, Ah don’t know whit tae say,” he mumbled in a state ae shock.  “Look, Ah cannae take these.  Youse keep them, Ah’ve goat plenty ae ma ain.”

  “Naw, naw, stoap being aw bashful noo. Everything’s above board. They’re fae us tae you. Right, we don’t know how tae haundle them, so get them intae that cardboard box ae yours before they shite even mair in ma good boot,” The Sarge said.

  Flypast waved them aff as they did a U-turn and heided back doon tae Cathedral Street, turning left towards Stirling Road. He then scurried up the stairs tae tell his maw he wis aff doon tae Paddy’s wae some doos.

  “Bit Ah’m jist aboot tae make ye some toast fur yer breakfast, son.”

  “Ah’ll get it when Ah get back, Maw.”

  Wae that, he wis aff across Cathedral Street, o’er the brow ae the hill and doon Montrose Street, heiding fur the Saltmarket, as fast as his legs could carry him.

9.32 A.M.

  “Well, whit dae ye think then? Whit’s the Hampden Glory?” Mick asked, when Shaun and Danny plapped their arses back in the Jag.

  “Whit dae ye think, Danny?” Shaun asked, turning roond tae face him in the back seat.

  “Ah jist don’t know. Ah’m no sure.”

  “Ah don’t think it wis them.”

  “Why no?”

  “Did ye hear that wee baldy mongol? There’s nae way that wee cocky knob-heid wid’ve went oan aboot buying a Horseman and mentioning aw oor escaped hens flying aboot aw o’er the place, if it wis them.”

  “That’s whit Ah wis thinking, bit they could still be at it. Did ye see that wee ginger heided wan? Ah thought he wis aboot tae shite himsel the minute we came in through the curtain.”

  “Aye, bit he wis like that when they first came roond and we flogged them the cabin.”

  “So, whit ur youse baith saying then?” Mick asked, looking fae wan tae the other.

  “Ma money’s elsewhere.  Let’s nip roond and see The Big Man. We’ll need tae get it o’er and done wae sooner or later. Fuck knows whit we’re gonnae say tae him.”

  “And then we’ll heid doon tae Paddy’s. He might’ve hid some daft bampot in selling the doos. Ye never know…whoever took them might no know whit they’ve goat.”

9.33 A.M.

  “Skull, ya bloody
left tit, ye. Ur ye trying tae get us bloody murdered?” Johnboy wailed.

  “Whit?”

  “Aw that shite aboot buying a Horseman and aw they wee hens flying aboot. Don’t tell me ye deliberately let aw they bloody doos oot ae their cages tae fly aboot the Toonheid as well?”

  “Whit the fuck wid Ah dae something like that fur?”

  “Ye bloody shat in their good McCluskeys’ ashet steak pie.”

  “How dae ye know it wis a McCluskeys?”

  “Ah don’t. That’s whit ma maw always buys.”

  “Well, get yer facts right then.”

  “Ye know whit Ah mean, ya selfish wanker, ye.”

  “Anyway, shiting in that pie ae theirs is different.”

  “Why’s that different?”

  “Because letting the doos oot widnae help them. Hauf ae them wid jist come back and the other hauf wid get killed by the scabby hawkers.”

  “Whit?”

  “He means that the haun-reared good dookit doos wid be attacked and done in by the scabby wild doos, Johnboy,” Joe said.

  “Ah think ye did brilliant masel, Skull,” Tony said.

  “See?
Ya
fanny, ye!”

9.45 A.M.

  “Right, Ah want the word oot. Any bampot, and Ah mean any, caught selling or buying wan ae ma Horsemen Thief Pouters or good doos is gonnae get fucking tortured tae death and then shot in the heid,” The Big Man raged, pacing up and doon in his favourite silk dressing gown…the wan wae the arse ripped oot ae it at the back.

  “We wurnae too sure if ye wanted us tae go public wae this.”

  “Public? Ah want every doo man and their scabby dugs tae know Ah’m oan their trail. Ah’m telling ye, some basturt or basturts ur gonnae die fur this.”

  “We’ve awready started tae look.”

  “Where?”

  “Well, the first place we hit wis that wee manky mob who we flogged the cabin tae.”

  “And?”

  “Ah’m no sure they’d anything tae dae wae it.”

  “Of course they bloody well did! They’re the only fucking wans stupid enough. Ah want ye tae get back roond tae that cabin and kidnap the wee basturts and take them roond tae the beer cellar in the pub. They’ll soon fucking tell me.”

  “That’s the point Ah’m making, Pat. They’re too obvious. Everywan knows fine well that we’ll think it wis them. Look at Oswald.”

  “Oswald? Who the fuck is Oswald? Whit’s that bampot goat tae dae wae anything? Hiv we hid any dealings wae him? Where dis the thieving basturt live?”

  “Ah’m talking aboot Lee Harvey Oswald.  He’s the wan that goat blamed fur shooting the president, bit every eejit wae a brain in their heid knows he wis set up, so he wis. Ah’m no convinced that they wee fly men hiv anything tae dae wae this. Ah think we need tae look further afield.”

  “Ah think they wur involved,” Mick volunteered.

  “Let’s leave it jist noo. If they wur, we know where tae find them. Ah think we’ve still goat time fur a recovery job here, if we kin get oor arses intae gear.”

  “Whit ur ye suggesting then?” The Big Man asked, downing a large nip.

  “It’s still early. Ah say we nip roond by Flypast’s and then heid doon tae Paddy’s.”

  “Flypast wis wae us last night.”

  “Aye, Ah know that, bit it’s aboot starting fae the centre and moving oot. Whoever done this knew whit the fuck they wur daeing and whit they wur efter. They must be pretty confident that we cannae touch them. It’ll aw come oot in the wash, though, and when it dis, we’ll be there.”

  “Right, when kin Ah come roond tae inspect the damage?”

  “Ah’ve goat a lovely big McCluskeys’ steak pie sitting there, ready tae be put in the oven. Why no come roond fur yer tea later?”

  “Whit time?”

  “We’ll see ye aboot hauf seven?”

  “Ah’m still gonnae kill some basturt fur this.”

10.15 A.M.

  “Flypast, ya daft prick ye, how ur ye daeing? Is that maw ae yours still smoking oot ae her ears?” asked Paddy.

  “Hello Paddy. Aye, Maw’s still wanting tae be famous.”

  “So, whit brings ye doon tae ma wee doo shoap oan a lovely, sunny Sunday morning, carrying a broon cardboard box, Ah wonder?”