Run Johnboy Run: The Glasgow Chronicles 2 (63 page)

Chapter Thirty Seven

  “They’ve jist recovered the body,” Bumper informed Colin, the inspector, who wis sitting behind a mountain ae paperwork oan his desk.

  “Aye?”

  “Aye, it wis a right pig tae get oot.  The diver boys wur in their element getting tae use their ropes and tackle fur a change.”

  “Is that right?  And where’s the body noo?”

  “The forensic crowd hiv jist finished at the scene, so it’ll probably be oan it’s way doon tae the morgue as we speak,” The Stalker volunteered, taking a seat.

  “Aye, and it wisnae far fae his hoose either.”

  “Dae ye think that it wis accidental?”

  “Obviously the post mortem will confirm either way, bit he wis in a bit ae a mess.  Ye widnae hiv recognised him if ye didnae know who it wis.  He wis lying face doon, bloated and floating oan tap ae the water. It looked like the rats hid goat tae him.”

  “Aye, bit in your opinion, dae ye think that it wis accidental?”

  “There wis a car battery, wae a cable running aff ae it, attached tae a nail oan wan ae the posts, wae a light bulb oan the end ae it.  He’d tied a rope tae wan ae the rafters and used it tae lower himsel doon intae the tank, tae access the lead sheeting above the water line.  Ye could see where he’d stripped the tank roond the tap ae it.  The rope that he’d used tae lower himsel intae the tank wis still attached tae a rafter and wis frayed at the same level as a big ragged strip ae lead that wis jutting oot. It wis razor sharp.  A blind man wid be able tae suss oot that Tiny fucked up big-style this time.  The daft basturt hid a spare rope wae him as well, bit hid obviously decided no tae sling that intae the tank as a back-up, the diddy.  It probably cost him his life.”

  “Aye, mountaineering is no as easy as it looks, so it’s no,” The Stalker drawled.

  “Whit aboot the wee boys that found him?”

  “Two ten year aulds, probably looking tae strip the lead oot ae the tank themsels, although they’ve denied that.  They said they wur jist playing in the area and popped in tae see whit wis in the water tower.”

  “Press?”

  “The usual crew fae The Glesga Echo, Evening Times and Evening Citizen.  Ah overheard Bobby Mack telling them it looked like an unfortunate accident and that he’d release a statement later, wance they’d conducted the post mortem.”

  “Oh well, it couldnae hiv happened tae a better person.  Everything that wis ever nicked within a four mile radius ae the stables passed through that wee shitehoose’s hauns o’er the past fifteen years.  Nae doubt, the usual crocodile tears will be spilt at his funeral, saying how much he loved and wis loved by everywan.”

  “We managed tae get doon tae his hoose and turn the place o’er before the CID boys goat there.  There wis nae sign ae any casino chips, although he hid plenty ae bookie stubs.  As well as no being able tae climb very well, he wisnae much better oan the nags either.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Mick Murphy and his driver, The Goat, turned up in a fancy big Jag.  Murphy wis pissed as a fart and wanted tae know whit the score wis.  We telt him nothing, bit Ah clocked that Swinton McLean fae The Evening Times gieing him the lowdoon.  Where the fuck dae they get aw these names fae?  Who ever heard ae calling their wean Swinton?” Bumper asked, as The Inspector and The Stalker laughed.

  “So, anything oan that manky crew fae Thistle Park?”

  “Well, the mute telt us nothing, despite squashing they baws ae his between ma clamps,” Bumper said, demonstrating his vice-like grip by clasping and un-clasping they huge hauns ae his.

  “Efter we leave here, we’re heiding up tae The Corporation tae pick up the maist recent list ae empty hooses fur the bottom end ae McAslin Street.  Ma money is still oan them being doon that end ae The Toonheid, so it is,” The Stalker said.

  “So, whit ur yer plans wance ye identify where they ur then?” The Inspector asked.

  “Depending oan the location, we’ll try and storm the place.  Ah don’t want tae dae anything that disnae get the four ae them in the wan swoop.  Ah’d rather see where they ur and work oot something wance we know whit we’re up against.  It’ll need mair than the two ae us though.  They’re aw big hairy-arsed boys noo.  We widnae want tae tackle the four ae them withoot back-up.”

  “Fine.  So, whit’s happening wae Sean’s gambling chips?”

  “We’ve put the word oot.  So far, there’s been nothing, bit it’s early days yet.”

  “Right, well, if there’s nothing else, Ah’ve goat a wee horse tae put oan that’s running at Chepstow, called…and Ah swear tae God Ah’m no making this up…The Bobbing Dwarf, wid ye believe?” The Inspector said, as they burst oot laughing, following him oot the door intae the corridor.

Chapter Thirty Eight

  By the time Paul and Johnboy goat back wae their scaffolding poles, Tony and Joe wur baith sleeping.  Johnboy and Paul didnae hing aboot either and heided straight tae their kip when they arrived back.  Johnboy lay thinking aboot whit they’d jist witnessed.  He wondered who the deid body wis and whit he’d done tae be getting slung doon the foundation shaft ae a multi-storey block ae flats.  He wondered how many people The Big Man hid goat shot ae in his time. He’d always wondered who it hid been that The Big Man and Shaun Murphy hid hid in the boot ae The Big Man’s Jag, wae his hauns tied behind his back and a hood o’er his heid, the night that Johnboy hid showed Tony, Joe and Skull where they could plank their dosh in the dipping yard behind Grafton Square.  If it hidnae been fur the two local sergeants turning up and demanding his release, whoever it wis wid’ve been a goner.  Johnboy’d hid nightmares fur years efter seeing that.  When he’d mentioned his nightmares tae Tony, Tony hid jist laughed.

  “Well, jist make sure it isnae gonnae be you someday.”

Johnboy thought aboot Tiny.  The Big Man hid asked if they’d come across him oan their travels?  Did that mean he wis deid?  Although Johnboy hid wanted tae prove who it wis that hid killed Skull, it hid never really entered his heid whit they wur gonnae dae aboot it wance they found oot. He’d been too preoccupied trying tae find oot if he wis doo-lally or no.  He wis right glad Tony hidnae questioned him o’er his hesitation up at the blind water tank.  He broke oot in a sweat every time he thought aboot making the wrang decision.  It hid been a close wan.  If Tiny hid kept his trap shut fur a few seconds longer while Johnboy fought tae make the right decision, he wid’ve passed the end ae the spare rope doon tae the wee murdering
basturt.  Tony hid been right wae his challenge.  Skull wid’ve clocked whit Tiny wis up tae fae five paces away.  If Johnboy hid helped Tiny oot, the lot ae them, him included, wid’ve ended up beside whoever it wis that hid been slung doon intae the multi-storey foundations…nae question aboot it.

  He wis right glad that it wis tae be wan ae the others that wis gonnae be shooting Mick Murphy.  When it came doon tae it, he didnae think he wid’ve been able tae pull the trigger.  He hid nae doubts that Paul wid be in there like wan ae The Wild Bunch, aw bullets flying.   He lay wondering how they wur gonnae pull it aff. Johnboy wis well used tae how Tony, Paul and Joe went aboot things.  Wance they goat an idea intae they heids ae theirs and discussed who wis daeing whit, they usually jist went fur it.  Everywan kept their thoughts tae themsels efter a decision wis taken. Every noo and again, whitever wis tae be done wid be discussed and then, it wid be silence until the next bit ae damage needed tae be dished oot tae whoever hid upset them.  It hid felt strange being doon at The Capstan Club.  While Tony wis speaking tae The Big Man, Johnboy hidnae been able tae stoap himsel fae watching Mick Murphy, pished as a fart, snarling and scowling at the world.  Johnboy jist couldnae figure oot whit the benefits wid’ve been in getting shot ae somewan like Skull.  Johnboy remembered how Skull could be a nippy wee sweetie, bit he hidnae deserved tae be burnt tae death because ae a bit ae lip.  And whit hid poor Elvis ever done tae deserve being toasted?  Johnboy hid wanted tae shout at Mick that his time wis fast approaching, bit that wid’ve been a death sentence fur them aw. 

“Ah still think the wee knob goat aff lightly,” Joe hid declared oan the way across the tracks the day they’d heided intae the toon efter their wee pow-wow wae Tiny.

  Johnboy hid been blowing hot and cauld o’er the shooting ae Mick Murphy.  He’d been trying tae convince himsel that wance it came tae it, they’d bottle oot.  He turned in the darkness and could jist make oot the dark shapes ae the three sleeping bodies beside him.  Deep doon, he knew they widnae mess aboot.  He knew Mick Murphy wis as good as deid.  Fur the first time since they’d legged it fae Thistle Park, Johnboy realised that life wisnae gonnae be the same fae here oan in.  He wished he could change the clock back…bit tae when?  He wondered whit his ma wis daeing.  He wondered if he ever crossed Senga Jackson’s mind?  He hoped Silent wis okay and he wondered where the fuck Skull wis and where he’d come fae.  Despite fighting it, he couldnae keep his eyes open and felt himsel drifting aff, still shivering wae the cauld.  When he woke up in the morning, he wis oan his lonesome.  He’d jist goat the fire started when Tony and Joe arrived back, wae Paul a couple ae minutes later, at their backs.

  “We’ve goat a problem,” Tony announced.

  “That drunken prick, Mick Murphy and The Goat ur daeing the roonds, demanding the casino chips back that we flogged.  Mick Murphy is claiming they belong tae him,” Joe added.

  “How dae ye know that?”

  “Because Manky Malcolm telt us.  They hauf-dragged Malcolm oot ae The Atholl Bar last night and demanded his chips.  They then escorted him back hame and he haunded them o’er.  He says that they’ve also tracked doon Fat Fingered Finklebaum and goat his batch aff ae him as well.  Seemingly, Fat Fingered hid them oan him when they confronted him and he haunded them o’er, under threat ae getting oan his face whit Malcolm’s goat doon the side ae his.”

  “Did they gie him back whit he paid fur them?” Paul asked.

  “Did they fuck.  Malcolm’s demanding his money back fae us, seeing as we sold them tae him in the first place.”

  “Well, he kin fuck right aff.  There’s no way we’re haunin o’er any money.  He should’ve telt that Murphy basturt tae fuck aff or taken it up wae The Big Man.”

  “Whit aboot Aleck The Humph?  Any word ae him?” Johnboy asked, looking across at Paul, who clearly twigged where he wis coming fae.

  “No that we know ae.  Alex won’t gie them up so easy though.  Him and Foosty will tell Mick Murphy where tae get aff, so they will.”

  “Ye better tell them, Paul,” Johnboy said, opening a pint ae milk and taking a sip fae wan ae the bottles that Paul hid turned up wae.

  Tony and Joe never said much when Paul telt them the story aboot whit Johnboy and him hid clocked up at the building site.

  “Whit makes ye think it wis Humphy Aleck?” Joe asked, butting in.

  “We couldnae make oot who it wis, bit it wis definitely Mick and The Goat though.  They wur practically staunin oan tap ae us,” Paul replied.

  “It seems too much ae a co-incidence.  Ah bet Aleck telt them tae fuck aff and that’s where he’s ended up.  Fur a few lousy quid?” Tony said, looking at them.

  “Ah cannae wait until Ah get that evil basturt in ma sights,” Paul grumbled.

  “Aye, well, ye better get him oan the first shot.  He might be a drunken basturt, bit he’ll be nae pushover either,” Tony warned him.

  “So, how hiv ye goat oan wae another den?” Johnboy asked, changing the subject.

  “Good.  We’ve goat a nice wee tap flair, wan-bedroom hoose
roond in John Street.  It’s the first close, jist up fae The Band Ae Hope building…the wan right next tae the hairdressing college’s wee car park.  It means that if we hiv tae get oot ae here in a hurry, we’ve no goat far tae hike.  They’ll still be coming through the door and we’ll be tucked up in a bed ae warm coats, so we will,” Joe laughed.

  “Oh…and another thing…they’ve found Tiny,” Paul said.

  “Eh?”

  “How dae ye know that then?”

  “Ah jist bumped intae Gabby Maggie up oan Grafton Square.  She telt me that they wur aw gabbing aboot it in Curley’s earlier oan.  ‘Floating face doon, deid in the invisible water tank, he wis.  He wis so embarrassed aboot being a midget wae a club fit, that insteid ae gaun fur a swim up in the Toonheid Baths like everywan else, he chose tae go fur a swim up in that tank oan his lonesome every week, tae hide that shame ae his, so he did,’ she said.  Ah found it hard no tae pish masel laughing at the shite she wis coming oot wae,” Paul said, laughing.

  “Fuck, it’s aw happening the day.”

  “So, whit ur we gonnae dae wae the rest ae the casino chips then?”  Paul asked, looking across at Tony, who jist shrugged his shoulders.  “Nowan will take them noo that the word’s oot that Mick Murphy is tracking them doon,” 

  “When ur ye heiding back doon tae Erchie The Basturts, Tony?” Johnboy asked.

  “Me and Tony ur heiding doon there this efternoon,” Paul said.

  “Why don’t ye see if he’ll take them?  There’s no way Mick Murphy wid even try tae take them aff ae somewan like him.”

  “See, Johnboy, ye’re no as daft as everywan thinks ye ur,” Paul said, a big grin spreading across his coupon.

  “Nice wan, Johnboy.  Okay, who’s fur a game ae Bella?” Tony asked, as they took their seats and Joe started shuffling the cards.