The Mattress: The Glasgow Chronicles 4 (23 page)

  Silence.

  “Nah, there wid’ve been bodies lying aw o’er the place.  Nowan wid be as stupid as tae dae something like that,” Billy Liar finally said, looking across at Daddy. “Ma money’s oan Shaun Murphy.”

  “Mickey?” Daddy asked.

  “Naw, Billy’s right.  We spoke aboot it back at the office and ruled that oot...although, ye never know.  Ah mean, The Big Man isnae here and ye know whit they say aboot turning yer back in a place like Glesga?”

  “And whit aboot Blaster Mackay?”

  “We hivnae heard anything oot ae Milton fur a while.  Ah hivnae picked up anything fae that crowd ae cowboys.  None ae Blaster’s boys wur mentioned by Frisky Frank or Harper when we hid him in the station.  Whit aboot yersels then, Paddy?” Duggie asked.

  “Naw, we hivnae picked up that anywan fae Milton his been oan the scene lately.  Ah think Blaster keeps himsel and his boys pretty close tae hame these days.  They don’t seem tae wander oot and aboot much.”

  “Right, Billy, whit dis that diagram ae yers tell us noo?” Daddy asked him, looking at aw the chalk lines crisscrossing between the names.

  “Well, we’ve goat aw the main players linking wae each other…Ah think. We’ve a probable motive fur the McManus boy getting murdered by The Simpsons, although nae definite witnesses, as yet.  The Rat being back oan the go gies us a connection that runs fae The Big Man through The Rat himsel tae The Simpsons via Harper Harris.  The fact that The Big Man and Wan-bob Broon hiv been oot ae circulation could explain the visibility ae the Possil crowd popping up in Springburn.”

  “Where’s Gucci’s manky mob in aw this then?” Chic Thompson wanted tae know.

  “The Simpsons, or at least, Toby Simpson, his been trying tae put that wee crowd oot ae business fur a while noo, if we go oan whit Harper Harris his claimed.  Fur Toby tae dae that, he probably his tae dae the damage across in Springburn itsel because The Mankys wid probably hiv the sense tae stay within the area and nae go wandering aboot ootside, unless it wis really necessary.  Noo, here’s a question fur you and Bumper, Paddy.  Fae whit we know ae Gucci...why the fuck wid he sit back and accept abuse, even if it is fae bogeymen as scary as Tam and Toby Simpson?  Noo, we know that two ae his wee manky crew ur tucked away oot in Polmont, and that other lanky basturt pal ae his...the wan that ye chased aw o’er Scotland...whit’s his name?  Aye...Paul McBride, that’s him...is oot ae the game noo and lives up in the Highlands somewhere.  Dae ye think Gucci’s lost his nerve?  Whit’s really happening there?” Billy Liar wondered, as aw heids turned tae them.

  “Paddy?” Bumper said, looking at his partner.

  “Ah find it hard tae believe that Gucci wid roll o’er and bare that arse ae his tae anywan, including The Simpsons.  There’s a couple ae things we need tae consider here.  Ah know he’s young, bit his track record speaks fur itsel.  He’s too smart tae be caught oot in the open.  He’d know fine well that if he went fur The Simpsons, it wid start a war in the north ae the city.  Pat Molloy wid then hiv tae get involved.”

  “Bit Ah thought Gucci and his wee bunch wur independent, Paddy?  Whit the fuck wid this hiv tae dae wae The Big Man?” Shane asked.

  “Gucci’s nae mug, so he isnae.  Masel and Fin sat ootside Gucci’s flat, across in Petershill Road, fur a whole day earlier in the week.  Dae ye remember Baby Huey, Billy?”

  “That pug ugly fat basturt that’s been working oan the doors ae Molloy’s pubs?  Him?”

  “Aye, that’s the wan.  He paid Gucci a wee visit earlier in the week, so he did.  There’s another connection back tae The Big Man.”

  “Is Blubber Boy no a bit low level in aw this, Paddy?”

  “No as a courier, passing messages back and forth, he isnae.  That fat basturt and Gucci go back tae the Toonheid as weans.  The Big Man wid know that.  It’s also well-known that Shaun Murphy and his brother hate that manky crowd...something tae dae wae Mad Malky being ripped aff back in the sixties o’er fleeing the doos or something.  Hiv ye ever come across that fat Baby Huey up in Springburn, Fin?”

  “Naw, Ah can’t say Ah hiv,” Bumper replied.

  “So, why wid a low-life like Baby Huey appear aw ae a sudden up in Springburn?  Gucci knows that if there’s battling gaun oan aw o’er the place, Pat Molloy wid need tae come in and sort it oot and that wid involve Molloy hivving tae square up tae The Simpsons.  If that happened and a lot ae blood wis spilt, The Big Man wid take it oot oan Gucci fur starting it aw.  If The Big Man’s away, that means that Gucci disnae hiv access tae him, tae get the go-aheid tae retaliate.  It could be that he’s been keeping his heid doon, trying tae draw The Simpsons intae Springburn deliberately, playing at being the victim and hoping that Pat Molloy comes back and intervenes...or... if he could get a message tae Molloy somehow, get the go-aheid tae hiv a go himsel.”

  Silence.

  “Bumper?” Daddy finally asked, as everywan reached fur their fag packets again.

  “Ah agree wae Paddy.  Although, Ah think the best thing that could happen wid be Pat Molloy coming back oan the scene.  If this wis tae aw suddenly blow up, a lot ae people could get hurt…innocent bystanders fur instance…weans playing in the street...that kind ae thing.  Ah think Molloy wid squash something like this in a flash, if he knew whit wis gaun oan.  Who the fuck wid want tae get involved in a turf war?  Paddy’s right aboot Gucci though.  If he’s haudin back fae retaliating o’er the murder ae McManus, and if this his being brewing fur a while noo, then time is probably running oot.  Ah’ve known Gucci since he wis aboot twelve or thirteen and there’s nae way he wullnae be planning a comeback, even if he did fall oot wae McManus. That crowd ur well-known fur no letting things pass if they’ve been crossed.  And another thing, don’t be misled because Gucci might’ve lost a couple ae his crew who’re oot in Polmont.  Some ae that young crowd he’s goat roond aboot him jist noo ur no wee pussycats, believe you me.  There ur six ae them in particular that we’d need tae look oot fur and keep tabs oan,” Bumper replied.

  “Simon Epstein, Jake McAlpine, Ben McCalumn, Pat McCabe, Peter Paterson and a right wee nippy sweetie called Snappy Johnston.  Bumper’s right, Ah don’t think this wee crowd wid back aff fae squaring up tae The Simpsons.  They’re too fight-happy and wid be up fur taking them oan, even though they widnae staun a chance.  Ah think they’d back Gucci up tae the hilt if he wis tae let loose and go fur Toby,” The Stalker added.

  Silence.

  “There’s another wee twist in here that Ah hidnae goat aroond tae mentioning before noo.  Billy said that fur Toby tae dae any damage tae Gucci’s crowd, him and his bogeymen hiv tae travel across tae Springburn, because that’s where The Mankys hing oot.  Well, interestingly enough, Simon Epstein, Pat McCabe and Snappy Johnston hiv aw been clocked popping up across in Possil o’er the last couple ae days…and it gets even better.  We’ve picked up whispers, that they wur asking aboot Tam Simpson’s movements,” Duggie said, no being in the least bit surprised at the shock oan the faces roond the table staring back at him.

  Silence.

  “There’s nae way they stupid basturts wid even think aboot it...wid they?” Chic asked, deep in thought and clearly concerned.

  “Why no?  Ah certainly widnae put it past them,” Bumper chipped in.

  “And that’s concrete, Duggie?”

  “Well, that’s the problem.  Nothing that wid staun up in court fur mair than five seconds.”

  “So, where did this come fae then?”

  “Well, unlike some aboot here, Ah don’t mind sharing ma sources, although don’t get annoyed when Ah say his name.  It came fae Eddie the Eel.”

  “That lying basturt?”

  “That prick wid get ye hung, so he wid.”

  “Who’s Eddie the Eel?” Bumper asked.

  “He’s the basturt that goat caught oot, perjuring himsel twice up at the High Court in two different trials.  Nine baddies eventually goat let loose.  Bob McGill, wan ae the sergeants fae o’er in Govanhill, goat charged wae perverting the course ae justice fur putting him up tae it.  As well as getting sacked, Bob ended up getting fifteen months and The Eel goat aff because it wis proven that he wis made tae sign statements under duress,” Paddy informed him.

  “How wid somewan like Eddie The Eel know aw this, Duggie?” Mickey asked him.

  “He said that wan ae Blind Bill’s pickpocket crew telt him.  Seemingly, Snappy Johnston met up wae Blind Bill and offered tae exchange a bit ae gossip.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing.  That wis it.”

  “And the gossip?” Paddy asked,

  “Fuck knows, bit it’s aw useless.  Kin ye imagine using somewan like Eddie the Eel as a witness in the dock fur the prosecution if Tam Simpson wis put oot ae the game?”

  “Ah jist cannae see it,” Daddy said, shaking his heid.

  “Why?”

  “Why go fur Tam Simpson?  Whit aboot that psycho, Toby, and the rest ae The Simpsons’ crew?  Ye couldnae take oot wan withoot taking them aw oot.  Mind you, efter whit’s jist been said, Ah’m really surprised tae hear that some ae that young crew wid venture oot ae Springburn, let alone, be venturing oot and aboot across in Possil.  Dis that no contradict whit Paddy his jist said aboot them staying in Springburn, supposedly keeping their heids doon?  Ah think ye need tae haul in yer pal, Harris, again,” Daddy advised, looking across at Duggie.

  “Aye, well, Ah think we might hiv a wee problem there, Daddy.  The fucker’s gone AWOL.”

  “We’ve been looking fur him fur days noo, bit he’s disappeared,” Dave McGovern confirmed.

  “Disappeared?”

  “Fucked aff,” Shane agreed.

  “Shot the craw, as they say,” McGovern added, getting the last word in oan the disappearance ae Harper Harris, as lighters burst intae flame roond the table.

  Silence.

  “Ah think he could be the main man, wae aw the answers aboot here.  If we kin get him and put the frighteners oan him, that is.  Ah mean, why wid a grippy, snivelling, tight-arsed basturt like The Rat be willing tae pay thirty quid fur information leading tae somewan like him, eh?  And why the fuck wid somewan like Frisky Frank McKenna be talking aboot him in the same breath as Tam Simpson and this Gucci wan?” Daddy threw intae the ring, looking aboot the table.

  “Ye should’ve seen Harris’s reaction when we dragged that arse ae his doon tae the station.  Even wae ma boys in attendance, Ah wis shocked that his pie and chips fae the night before ended up across the interview room flair.  Ah knew he wis nervous, bit this wis sheer terror, so it wis,” Duggie added, nodding across at The Gruesome Twosome.

“He’s a naebody in the great scheme ae things, bit Ah’ve goat a funny feeling in they baws ae mine, that he’s the connection here, and when the auld hee-haws ur a-jangling, ma hunches ur usually spot oan, so they ur,” Daddy said, sharing wan ae the secrets ae his success.  “We need tae get tae him, and get tae him soon, before the bad guys waken up and notice he’s maybe a player in aw this.  In the meantime, Ah want this tae be a tap priority fur us, so Ah dae.  Resources won’t be a problem...up tae a point.”

  “Well, Paddy and Fin kin focus oan it fur the next wee while, wae back-up fae Biscuit Smith and Froggie Shearer.  They’ll stay in the background bit kin lend a haun, if need be,” Chic Thompson offered.

  “We’ll dae the same across in Possil, Daddy,” Duggie added.

  “Ah’ve awready goat two boys following up oan The Big Man’s boys in the city centre and Shaun Murphy’s movements in particular.  Ah’ll extend that tae The Simpsons’ movements up in Possil and Ah’ve awready goat wan ae the lassies in the office liaising wae Interpol oan The Big Man’s movements across in Spain,” Mickey Sherlock added.

  “We need tae get oot there and keep oor snouts close tae the ground oan this wan.  If this kicks aff before we’re ready, then it could dae us a lot ae damage.  Ah’ll speak tae the Gods upstairs, though they’re aware ae the concerns raised fae oor last meeting.  They might want tae bring mair people in, bit in the meantime, speak tae aw they wee fork-tongued grasses that ye keep in yer back pockets.  Be careful how ye put the word oot though...we widnae want tae startle anywan intae daeing anything stupid.  We’ll get thegither again next week, bit Ah want youse tae continually keep Billy here up tae date oan a daily basis, even if ye’ve goat nothing tae report.”

  “Why kin we no jist lift Gucci and sling his baws in the clink?” Shane asked.

  “Because he’d be oot within five minutes and hiv a harassment charge against us fae that poxy-arsed brief, Portoy…that’s why,” Chic said, reminding them, as Daddy stood up, indicating the meeting wis o’er.

  “Right, Mickey, ya sneaky tadger, ye.  Ah want aw the info ye’ve goat oan the McManus stabbing, and Ah mean everything,” Bobby Mack growled, putting his erm roond Mickey Sherlock’s shoulder as they went oot ae the door.

  “Dis that mean Ah’m aff warrant sales, Chic?” The Stalker asked hopefully, spitting oan the bar towel before using the wet spit patch oan the corner ae it tae clean the red blood rim fae roond his lips.

Chapter Thirty

Digger Day Seven

  Johnboy hid slept in.  When the door hid crashed open, he’d jumped up and goat intae his good defensive position.  Tae the uninitiated, this looked like something between a frog needing a shite and a blind man stretching his erms oot in front ae him, hoping tae find the lamp post before it found him.

  “Fuck’s sake, Taylor, did we gie ye a fright then?” the screw hid guffawed, as the bun boy behind him scooped a couple ae ladles ae tea fae the urn oan wheels intae Johnboy’s plastic mug, before haunin it across wae a stale bun.

  Johnboy hid instantly been disappointed.  He could see that there wisnae a hole in the bun, containing a wee pass-note ae whit wis happening ootside.  Fuck Freckles.

  “Right, get yer mattress in, Taylor.  We’ve no goat aw day.  We want tae get hame pronto the night, so we dae,” the screw behind his funny pal hid growled, guaranteeing a slow response fae Johnboy.

  Johnboy hid taken his time tae walk the length ae his cell, laying his mug and bun doon, before dragging they feet ae his back tae the ootside corridor tae pick up his mattress.

  “See whit ye’ve done noo, Mick, ya prat, ye?  The basturt’s taking his time, so he is,” Funny Screw hid grumbled.

  “Right, Taylor, dib, dib, get yer arse intae gear or else!”

  Johnboy hid taken a wee bit ae pleasure in mucking them aboot.  He’d jist sauntered oot, picked up his pillow and turned tae put it in his cell, when his scrawny blanket and pyjamas hid soared through the air, above his heid and landed in front ae him.

  “Ah’m bloody warning ye, ya toe-rag.  Don’t try and take the piss oot ae yer superiors.  Get that fucking mattress shifted, noo!” Mr Angry hid shouted.

  Johnboy hid picked up the folded mattress and hid deliberately goat it stuck, trying tae get it through the door.  He’d then strolled as casually as he could tae the concrete bed before slowly laying it doon as gently as he could.  He’d started tae unbutton his shirt, wan button at a time.

  “Ah’m gonnae get ye fur this, Taylor.  See if Ah don’t.”

  He hidnae gied them any eye contact or said a word tae the basturts, pleased at the sound ae the uneven, angry breathing wafting in his direction.

His shite-catchers hid barely landed oan the deck before Mr Angry shot intae the cell, scooped up aw his gear and slung them through the door as Funny Screw ducked.  Johnboy hid tried nae tae smirk, bit failed, as he clocked aw his clothes scattered aboot the flair ootside in the wide corridor.

  “Cunt!” Mr Angry hid screamed at him, before slamming the cell door so hard that Johnboy could still feel and hear the reverberations fifteen seconds later.

  “Prick!” Johnboy hid swiftly retorted, wae a big grin oan his coupon, hoping that that wisnae the excuse they needed tae come charging back intae his cell, tae start ladling intae him. 

  He knew that pair wur part ae the Mufti-squad, who wur sent in, kitted oot in full riot gear and big sticks, tae hammer any ae the borstal boys they thought wur gieing them shit.

   He hated getting taken by surprise.  He wisnae the only wan either.  Aw The Mankys wur the same.  When Johnboy went oot fur a pint, he never stood wae his back tae the door or if he went fur a pish, he always stood at the urinal wae wan haun hard against the wall in front ae that face ae his.  It wisnae something anywan hid ever telt him tae dae...it wis wan ae they things that jist came naturally tae the people Johnboy ran aboot wae.  It widnae be the first time that he’d clocked some poor basturt’s foreheid and nose being smacked aff ae a concrete or tiled wall while he wis staunin, minding his ain business, daeing a slash. It hid taken him a wee while tae feel comfortable sleeping wae his back tae the cell door when he lay wrapped roond the pipes during the day. Another thing wis that they never sat wae their backs tae a door in a café or a sit-in fish and chip shoap.  That wis jist asking fur trouble.  Aw the lassies thought it wis funny as they’d aw rush past them tae get the right seats.  The Mankys preferred pub lounges tae bars.  In lounges, ye could always sit up the back, well away fae the door and clock everything that wis gaun oan roond aboot ye, or occasionally, storming towards ye.  In a crowded bar, the danger wis wae aw the movement roond aboot ye.  The papers wur full ae stories ae guys his age who’d been stabbed or who’d hid a pint glass stuck in tae their faces.  Glesga could be a dangerous place fur somewan Johnboy’s age, if ye didnae hiv yer wits aboot ye.

  Johnboy made up his mattress before sitting, cross-legged, chomping intae the bun.  Even though he knew there wisnae a message in it, he’d ripped it apart nevertheless.  It hid been a strange day aw roond, knowing that Silent wisnae next door, hivving been let oot ae the digger that morning. 

  Johnboy wondered how Silent wis daeing.  Even though somewan hid been released oot ae the digger, it still didnae mean that aw their privileges wid automatically be restored, like being allowed oot tae recreation at night.  If ye wur deemed tae be too anti-social, at the whim ae some wee screw who hid it in fur ye, then he could argue fur ye tae be allowed oot tae work during the day, bit locked up at night, tae stoap ye causing trouble or influencing other borstal boys tae fuck aboot. 

  He’d hung aboot maist ae the morning, waiting fur The AG and The Chief tae show up.  Two sessions ae keep-fit must’ve passed before he’d gied up and hid gone and wrapped himsel roond the pipes.  He’d slept lightly, waking up every noo and again, hauf expecting the cell door tae swing open fur him tae go through the rigmarole ae The AG asking him the same questions that he’d asked every day since he’d been there.  He thought that the nae-show probably meant they wur noising him up, keeping him oan his toes, making him think they wur coming, bit gieing him a dizzy insteid.  The racket fae across in the pallet shoap hid been gaun non-stoap, apart fae the break times.  He wisnae too sure whit time it hid been in the efternoon, other than it hid been quite late, bit he’d woken up tae the sound ae the alarm bell gaun aff across in the pallet shoap.  When he’d stood up and looked up at the rusty grille cover oan the windaes, the wee pin pricks hid showed that it wis awready dark.  As well as the alarm bell, he’d heard screws blowing their whistles.  The hammering hid stoapped and, apart fae the bell eerily ringing non-stop in the distance, a deathly silence hid come fae the workshoap.   Aboot five minutes later, he’d heard the wheels ae a vehicle speeding alang the wee road that ran between the ootside ae the digger cell wall and the wee canal beyond.  He’d guessed correctly that it hid been heiding fur the big sliding doors ae the pallet shoap alang tae his left.  Aw the wee rusty pin holes in the windae grille hid suddenly lit up wae sharp blue shafts ae light, coming fae whit he assumed wis an ambulance speeding by, before its tyres hid screeched tae a halt.  He’d sat listening, recognising the sound ae the sliding doors crashing open in the workshoap, followed by the urgency ae faint voices aw talking at wance.  The ambulance, if it wis an ambulance, hid then done a brisk three point turn, before the wee blue shafts ae light hid sliced across his cell ceiling again.  Efter the sliding doors ae the pallet shoap hid been bolted shut, it hid been back tae the humming ae the boiler and the odd trickling sound ae water coming fae the pipes fur Johnboy.  He’d jist assumed that somewan hid ended up wae a hammer or a crow bar whacked across their napper.  It hid happened a couple ae times while he’d been working there, although the victim hid usually jist been carted oot and up tae the sick bay, rather than oot the back door and intae an ambulance.  He’d hoped some basturt hid finally hid enough and hid taken a crowbar tae that prick, Toffee Simpson.  He’d wondered if wan ae the Garngad crowd hid been shifted tae the pallet shoap.  It hid taken him a wee while tae get back tae Sleepsville efter being disturbed.  He’d kept waiting fur the arrival ae the attacker, being dragged through the doors ae the ootside corridor intae the digger by the Mufti-squad, before being slung in tae wan ae the cells tae be battered senseless.  Efter waiting fur a wee while, he’d dozed aff, only tae be wakened up, confused, thinking he’d ended up in heaven.  He still wisnae sure if he’d been dreaming or if his mind wis starting tae play tricks oan him.  The sound ae heavenly, ghostly voices, quietly at first, bit getting louder, singing Silent Night, in whit he assumed wis German, hid floated and wafted its way through the digger fur a few minutes before it hid gone back tae silence again.  Maybe he wis starting tae go nuts, he’d thought, sitting straining his ears and trying tae figure oot if he’d been asleep or awake when he’d heard the voices.  Wan week in and wan week tae go.

  Johnboy used a corner aff ae his roll and made a wee breid ball and placed it wae the two awready sitting across in the corner beside the cell door.  He could hear Tackety Boots heiding his way in the distance, opening and slamming the heavy security doors and gates before arriving at the barred gate that took ye intae the main bit ae the cell-block.  Efter mair loud jangling ae keys and slamming ae metal doors, two noisy shadows swiftly passed across the light at the bottom ae his door.  He sat and listened, as Tackety Boots turned the key in the wee timer box oan the wall at the far end ae the corridor, before the light in the spyhole in the door wis replaced by a beady eye and his cell wis plunged intae darkness.  It took a few seconds fur his eyes tae adjust tae the darkness.  The light coming in fae under the door and the shaft ae light fae the spy-hole wis jist enough tae let him see the ootlines ae the painted bricks oan the four walls.  He wished they’d keep the lights aff during the day as well.  Johnboy hid never been too keen in the dark when he wis oan his lonesome, bit as long as he could see something in front ae his eyes, he always felt okay.  Maist ae the things he goat up tae ootside took place in the dark...at night...usually when the rest ae the city wur in their beds.

Snappy Johnston hid eventually gied up working in the big shoaps in the toon centre.  Although the money hid been good…even fantastic…he’d become bored shitless wae hivving tae turn up and hing aboot in a big shoap fur weeks oan end, waiting fur Pat tae come and collect his customers’ orders.  It hid only been a matter ae time before he’d managed tae find something that suited his nature better and whit he wis actually any good at.  Snappy took tae tanning lorries, vans and goods train wagons.  Efter jacking-in working in the toon centre, he’d spent aw his waking hours touring the lorry and rail depots across the city.  He eventually knew every nook and cranny ae aw the industrial estates and whit type ae companies operated in them fae the toon centre oot tae the west and north ae the city.  Snappy could open the back door ae a lorry or the sliding doors ae goods wagons within two minutes ae arrival.  Johnboy, Tony and Joe quite liked trooping alang wae him at nights, tanning anything oan twelve tae eighteen wheels that wis either parked up, ready tae deliver doon south, or wis sitting, waiting tae be unloaded the next morning.  Snappy wis a bigger bum than ten arses, bit funny wae it, even though maist ae the time he didnae mean tae be humorous.  Every job he wis oan wis always gonnae be the biggest in the history ae crime and when it turned oot tae be the opposite, he always forgot whit he’d declared...until the next job, and then it wid start aw o’er again.

  “Ah’m telling youse, ye kin laugh, bit this is gonnae be humungous…this is the big wan, so it is.”

  Wan ae his maist impressive tanning episodes, early oan in his conversion tae lorries, vans and goods wagons, hid been when he’d instructed them tae wait fur him beside the railway line, across at Cowlairs, while he fucked aff in search ae booty.  They hidnae been too sure whit tae expect, when aw ae a sudden, they’d clocked a goods train, trailing aboot fifty wagons in its wake, coming towards them.  Snappy wis staunin in the middle ae the open door ae wan ae the wagons, slinging whisky cases oot oan tae the track beside the line.  He’d gied them a big exaggerated wave, like something oot ae The Three Musketeers, wae a big smile splashed across that coupon ae his, as he shot past them, the train gathering speed.  It hid taken them hauf the night tae humph nearly seventy cases ae good ten-year-auld Chivas
Regal whisky across tae the fitba pitches between Possil and Springburn.  Even though it hid been the middle ae the night, Snappy hid then fucked aff and reappeared wae Billy MacRae, wan ae the local milkmen, in his Henderson’s milk van, tae humph the cases away.  He never left a job hauf done
. 
Fat Fraser Jeffs hid gone ballistic when he’d found oot that The Mankys hid been stealing his vans tae shift their stolen swag fae the shoaps in the toon centre efter hours. He’d even hid the cheek tae try and claim his fuel costs back via Wan-bob Broon, before gaun oan tae tell him no tae come back fur any mair references fur ungrateful thieving basturts like The Mankys.  It wis Snappy who’d found replacement transport.  Efter that, there hid been nae looking back fur Snappy.  He’d been in his element.  He always spoke aboot the money they wur aw gonnae make, bit Johnboy wisnae that convinced that making dosh wis the real reason Snappy and the rest ae them operated in the way that they did.  Johnboy remembered another time, waiting tae tan a lorry up in Balmore Industrial estate, between Possil and Lambhill.  Joe hid started tae moan like fuck that he needed a shite.  There hidnae been any toilet paper, so he’d used two ten pound notes tae wipe that arse ae his insteid ae hinging oan until they wur back up the road.  While it hid been great tae be loaded aw the time, it hidnae taken long fur money tae lose its value tae them.  Tae Johnboy, never being skint and buying whitever took yer fancy wisnae aw it hid been cracked up tae be.