The Mattress: The Glasgow Chronicles 4 (33 page)

  “Ah’m telling youse, she wis oan fire by the time Ah left her,” he’d been bragging wae his back tae the shoap front windae.

  “Aye, well, fae where Ah’m staunin, it looks like she’s come back fur mair,” wan ae the salesman hid said, nodding o’er The Dandy’s shoulder tae the P1800 which wis engulfed in flames oot oan the street.

  When Simon hid telt the story tae the lassies in Jonah’s, they’d aw been fighting o’er themsels tae see who could mother Silent first.  While aw that hid been funny, Joe hid still no taken a telling, despite the warning fae Toby Simpson, and hid been merrily winching Kate Simpson and bringing nothing bit trouble doon oan everywan’s heids. Johnboy sat watching Rabbie, who wis noo hinging aboot a bit longer.  He couldnae believe that the love ae his life, Senga Jackson wanted nothing tae dae wae him.

Chapter Forty One

  The Rat sat nervously, wringing they fingers ae his, sitting between the editor, Hamish McGovern and Lord Frank Owen’s offices up oan the tap flair ae The Glesga Echo building in Hope Street.  He could feel the tremor under that arse and feet ae his fae the trains coming and gaun fae the lower level platforms ae Central Station across the street, or at least, he hoped it wis the trains and no his arse rumbling.  He’d woken up that morning tae discover a rash...no jist any auld rash either, bit wan that started jist above his knees, disappeared between the cracks ae that arse ae his and reappeared, spreading oot like a fountain across his back, before stoapping between his shoulder blades.  Oan his way doon Hope Street fae his digs earlier, he must’ve stoapped at every second bus stoap tae gie his back a good auld scratch.  He’d been instantly transported tae a world ae ecstasy wance that pole raked up and doon his back, ignoring aw the elbow-nudging and laughing faces that hid ogled oot at him through the windaes ae the buses, as they snaked their way up Hope Street towards Coocaddens.

  “Hoi, Baloo, leave that poor bus stoap alane!” a bus driver hid guffawed at him through the doors ae his bus.  

  He knew fine well that he wis rundoon and his nerves wur shot tae bits.  He didnae know how much mair stress he could cope wae withoot cracking up.  Every time he shut they eyes ae his at night, he could hear his heart beating like the clappers.  He hauf expected Wan-bob Broon and The Goat tae come crashing through his door tae drag him back tae face The Big Man at any time.  Whit wis wrang wae these people?  At the end ae the day, aw he wis efter wis a wee job back in the toon...nothing spectacular...bit nothing too boring either.  Wis that too much tae ask?  Insteid, he hid tae deal wae uneducated psychopathic madmen oan the wan haun, and educated psychopathic madmen fae The Glesga Echo oan the other.  Whitever happened tae the days when aw ye hid tae dae wis turn up fur a wee boring interview and be telt the job wis yours wance the references hid been received?

  He’d need tae tread lightly.  Everywan knew fine well whit happened tae the messenger, even though he wis jist acting as the go-between.  The Big Man hidnae gied him much scope tae start the baw rolling.

  “Two and a hauf grand...that’s it...nae negotiating.  That’s peanuts tae somewan like Lord Frank Fuck Face,” he’d scowled.

  “Bit, er, hiv ye no goat a wee minimum that ye’d consider taking, Pat?” he’d pleaded, trying tae find a crumb in there somewhere.

  “It’ll be two and a hauf grand.  Tell that prick that he kin take it or leave it.”

  “Ah’ve, er, been involved in these kind ae discussions wae newspaper people before, Pat.  Wid we no be better tae ask fur three grand and then let them knock us doon tae the two and a hauf that we’re really efter?”

  “Did Ah jist hear a squeak, or whit?” The Goat hid growled, gieing him a filthy look wae they dark psycho eyes ae his.

  “Oh, Ah, er, Ah wis jist saying…”

  “Aye, well, jist you leave the business end tae Pat here and dae as ye’re telt and everything will be okay.  Okay?”

  “Aye, sorry, Ah didn…”

  “Two and hauf it is.  Tell that fat, rich soufflé that there will be nae messing aboot.  Any shite and the ring’ll be broken up and scattered.  Hiv ye goat that noo, Sammy?” The Big Man hid growled at him.

  “Aye, er, right, Pat.  Sorry, Ah didnae mean tae interfere,” he’d replied, cursing the greedy, obstinate thick basturt.

  “Aye, well, don’t you bloody-well dare come back here, trying tae negotiate oan that prick’s behauf noo!”

  His thoughts wur suddenly interrupted when the door opened, and Tom Bryce, looking a bit peely-wally aboot the gills, came striding oot ae Lord Frank’s office, looking shell-shocked.

  “Ye’ve jist tae go right in,” he grumbled tae The Rat.

  “Whit, oan ma lonesome?”

  “Aye, and Ah’d watch whit ye say.  That pair ae sharks will hiv they baws ae yers ripped aff ae ye, if ye don’t watch oot,” the sub editor warned him, gieing Lord Frank’s PA a wee nod, before disappearing through the glass doors.

  “Sammy, Sammy, how ur ye daeing?”

  “Oh, er, fine, Mr McGovern.”

  “This is Lord Frank Owen, the paper’s proprietor.  Please, take a seat,” the editor said, waving him towards a lonely looking hard backed chair that wis sitting facing a desk the size ae the penalty box across at Ibrox.

  The Rat remained staunin, rooted tae the spot.  He hidnae expected tae be meeting Boss Hog himsel.  He shuffled fae wan leg tae the other and glanced doon tae see if there wis still a shine oan the toes ae his broon, scuffed shoes.  He unconsciously cleaned the sweat fae his palms by scrunching the material oan the sides ae his wrinkled raincoat intae baws wae they hauns ae his.  When he looked up, Lord Frank wis staring at him, a look ae horror mixed wae disgust in his steel eyes.

  “Mr Elliot, I believe you’ve, er, located something, er, precious to me.  When may I have it back?”

  “Well, er, Lord Frank, it’s, er, kind ae tricky, if ye, er, know whit Ah mean, sir?”

  “Oh?”

  “Er, aye, ye see, there will be a wee cost associated wae its safe return, Ah believe.”

  “Go on,” Lord Frank said wae a polite smile, eyes narrowing.

  “A, er, ransom, so tae speak, sir.”

  “A ransom, you say?” Lord Frank mused, pursing his lips, efter a long, thirty second pause.

  Lord Frank glanced across at The Editor.

  “Two and a hauf thousand pounds, tae be exact, sir,” The Rat croaked, shutting his eyes and feeling himsel swaying slightly, as he waited fur a reaction, surprised that wan wisnae forthcoming.

  When he opened they eyes ae his, Lord Frank wis staunin looking oot ae the windae intae the bedrooms ae The Central Hotel across the street.  Hamish McGovern wis noo sitting tae The Rat’s left.  He wondered how they’d managed that withoot him hearing them move.

  “Please, take a seat, Mr Elliot.  Your hand?  You’ve had an accident, I see?” Lord Frank asked pleasantly, composing himsel and sitting back doon behind his desk, ice clinking in his glass as he took a gulp ae his whisky.

  “Ach, jist wan ae the hazards ae being a hack in a place like Glesga, Lord Frank,” The Rat replied dismissively, hoping that wid get him an extra few bob in his finder’s fee as his arse plapped itsel doon oan tae the hard surface ae the chair.

  “I would rather cut out the tongue in my head than give in to blackmail, Mr Elliot,” he thought he heard the tight-arsed, smug basturt utter.

  “Er, Ah suppose, if ye wur tae deduct the four hunner quid reward money, we’d only be talking aboot jist o’er two grand, sir,” The Rat said helpfully.

  “Hamish?”

  “If we start that noo, where wid it get us in the future?  Wid oor wife and weans ever be safe again?” The Editor replied.

  “Quite,” Lord Frank said, drumming his fingers oan his desk, while frostily glaring at The Rat in the same way a hungry snake wid.  “So, who and what are we dealing with here, Mr Elliot?”

  Silence.

  “Sammy, unless ye’re oan the payroll ae the person that his Lord Frank’s property, then any information, sensitive or otherwise, is copyrighted tae us.  We pay yer salary…and yer legal costs.”

  “Oh, Ah hivnae done anything illegal, Mr McGovern…well, nothing that Ah’d be ashamed ae, that is,” he pleaded.

  “So?”

  “So, if Ah wis tae divulge ma sources, they costs that ye talk aboot, could include ma funeral costs…if ye know whit Ah mean?”

  “Two and a half thousand…less the reward money, is quite out of the question,” Lord Frank exploded, slamming his haun doon oan the desk.

  “Ah wis telt tae tell ye, sir, that failure tae cough up wid mean the ring wid be broken up and scattered, so it wid…sir.”

  “Well, you can bloody-well tell Pat Molloy that I’ll not be blackmailed by him, nor any other cheap, two-bit gangster,” Lord Frank shouted tae the astonished messenger.

  “Bit, Ah, er…”

  “Fifteen hundred pounds… and not a penny more!” Lord Frank growled, a pained expression lighting up his fat smarmy rich face.

  “Ma, er, understaunin is that, er, the person whose guardianship the ring noo finds itsel in, his stated quite emphatically, that, er, there is tae be nae negotiating, Lord Frank,” The Rat squeaked, horrified and looking across tae Hamish McGovern fur assistance.

  “Fifteen hunner seems a fair enough offer tae me,” The Editor agreed, nodding across tae Lord Frank, ignoring the pleading eyes.

  The Rat’s sphincter finally gied up the ghost and snapped.  He could feel the hot, sticky dampness seeping between the cheeks ae his arse as the juices in his stomach rumbled and bubbled.  When he’d been in the States, he’d covered an execution.  The wardens called the inmates oan death row Deid Men Walking.  Noo, he knew how the condemned man felt.  He noticed a twelve-inch, ornate ruler sitting oan Lord Frank’s desk.  He wanted tae snatch it up and gie his back a good gouging wae the edge ae it, bit despite the excruciating itch, he felt too weak tae move.  He wis noo glad that it hid been a solid wooden seat that he’d been gied tae plap his arse oan, insteid ae wan ae the fancy bevelled leg wans wae the cream cushions affixed tae them that wur strategically placed throughoot the big room.  He should’ve known that how important ye wur decided the level ae comfort offered aboot there.  He looked across at The Editor, who wis sitting, engulfed in luxury, in a big fancy striped ermchair.  The Rat wis relieved that he wis wearing his raincoat.  The tails ae it wid hopefully cover the shite stain that wid’ve obviously seeped through tae the arse ae his troosers, thus saving him fae further humiliation when he embarked oan his deid man’s shuffle towards the door.  He wondered, and no fur the first time either, whether it hid been a mistake tae return tae Glesga.  The thought ae feeding back Lord Frank’s miserly fifteen hunner offer tae Pat Fuck-face Molloy, hid been the final straw.  He knew nowan wid turn up tae his funeral, certainly no this pair ae rich, smug basturts, who clearly couldnae gie a monkey’s fuck aboot his welfare.  He wid’ve loved tae hiv been able tae spring up oan tae the desk and kick the pair ae them oan their smarmy faces, bit the humiliation ae him hivving shat his breeks in front ae the pair ae basturts held him in check.  His misery knew nae bounds, as he wondered, no fur the first time, if there really wis a heaven, as he sat there drowning, at the mercy and whim ae two people who could’ve been fae another planet and who jist didnae gie a toss.

  “Right, that’s settled then.  Please go back to…er, whoever your source is, Mr Elliot, and inform him that I am not prepared to negotiate.  It’s fifteen hundred or nothing,” Lord Frank declared, nodding tae The Editor, who’d unobtrusively stood up and opened the windae a few inches, allowing the noise ae the buses and cars, honking in the street below, tae invade the quietness ae the room, alang wae some much needed fresh air.

  “Er, wid it no be better tae get somewan mair senior than masel tae enter intae negotiations, Lord Frank?” The Rat asked hopefully, pleading wae they eyes ae his.

  “I’ve just said, Mr Elliot, that there will be no negotiating with criminals.  It will have to be you.  He clearly trusts you.  We can’t risk having your, er, source, being exposed by bringing someone new into the negotiations at such a sensitive time, now can we?” Lord Frank said, smiling.

  “Sammy, the service ye’re delivering tae the paper is greatly appreciated, and I kin assure ye, that debt ae gratitude will be rewarded oan the safe return ae Lord Frank’s property.  Noo then, unless there’s anything else?” The Editor said tae him.

  “Do you know who he reminds me of, Hamish?” Lord Frank asked, efter The Rat hid scurried fae the room.

  “A Rat?”

  “The character they call ‘Lonely’ from the T.V. series, Callan, with Edward Woodward.”

 
“Oh aye, Ah suppose he dis, although, Ah must confess, I cannae ever remember Lonely shitting himsel in the programme.”

Chapter Forty Two

  Tony sat oan a chair, watching Harper stuff that kisser ae his wae his second roll and square sausage.  Pat sat opposite him, sipping his tea.  Nowan spoke.  Tony hid been running late efter being accosted by The Stalker earlier, jist ootside his closemooth oan Petershill Road.  The Stalker and that lap-dug ae his, Biscuit Smith, hidnae hid anything that they could lay oan him.  It hid been jist efter nine.  He’d reminded them that unless they’d anything that they could come up wae against him, then they’d nae right tae be accosting him, gaun aboot his lawful business.

  “Listen, ya prick, ye...”

  “Biscuit, cool it.  Don’t let the basturt get tae ye.  We know whit’s gaun oan, so we dae.”

  “Aye, then ye’ll know that ma brief will be in touch wae ye aboot aw this harassment.  Look, hauf the street kin see and hear ye harassing me,” he’d said tae them, pointing tae the auld nosey couple across the road who’d stoapped tae see whit aw the commotion wis aboot.

  “Don’t worry, Sunny Jim, the day will come when we get oor hauns oan that neck ae yours, so it will.”

  “Aye, well, in the meantime, go and arrest some real crooks fur a change, insteid ae hassling me,” Tony hid growled at them, pushing past them, heiding towards Springburn Road.

  Wance he’d goat tae Pat’s close oan Gourlay Street, he’d bumped intae Johnboy’s ma, Helen.

  “Hellorerr, Helen, how’s Johnboy?”

  “Fine...Ah think.  Ah tried tae visit him last week efter whit happened tae poor Joe, bit they widnae let me in.  They’ve goat him in solitary confinement fur misbehaving, so they hiv.  Imagine me gaun aw the way oot tae Falkirk, jist tae be telt Ah wisnae getting in?”

  “Aye, Ah heard he wis in the digger.  How ur Issie and Tam coping?”

  “Ach, well, ye know whit like...whit kin ye dae?”

  “Aye, Ah know.  Ah’m sorry that none ae us hiv been up tae see them, bit we’ll be at Joe’s funeral oan Wednesday, so we will.”

  “Oh well, Ah widnae haud yer breath, Tony, son.  Squinty Alex jist telt me earlier that it looks like him and the rest ae his grave digging cronies ur aw aboot tae go oot oan strike, so they ur.”

  “So, whit dis that mean if the funeral’s supposed tae be oan Wednesday then?”

  “It means postponing it or it’ll need tae be a cremation job...if Issie kin convince hersel and Tam that Joe widnae mind either way.”

  “Well, ye kin mention that Ah said that we talked aboot it years ago and Joe said he couldnae gie a monkey’s if they jist doused him wae lighter fluid when he croaked it, so he did.”

  “Oh, that’s good tae know, Tony, although Ah’d probably change the terminology a wee bit,” she’d said, wae a smile.

  Tony liked Helen.  Aw the boys and lassies did…especially the lassies.  If her and Jimmy ever came intae Jonah’s lounge, aw the lassies made a bee-line fur her.  Jimmy wid end up sitting aw night wae The Mankys while Helen dished oot instructions tae the lassies oan how no tae let guys get the better ae them.  She wis as tough as an auld boot, bit hid a heart ae gold.  Everywan in the area went tae her if they hid a problem or needed help.  Johnboy could never appreciate whit aw the fuss wis aboot when it came tae that maw ae his.

  “Aye, well, try living wae Joan ae Arc.  It’s no aw it’s cracked up tae be...especially when she rattles a metal spoon aff ae the side ae yer napper if she catches ye gieing her any lip back,” Johnboy wid say.

Tony returned tae the situation in haun, looking across at Harper, who wis jist aboot finished scoffing.  He hid that scared, hunted look aboot him.  Everything hid gone according tae plan, apart fae when Snappy hid scared the living shite oot ae him.  It hid been Baltic ootside.  It hid taken Tony a few goes before he’d managed tae get himsel up oan tae the ice-covered second flair windae-sill at the back.  Efter he’d switched aff the car engine and heidlamps, free-wheeled hauf way doon the street and came tae a stoap ootside the big dark hoose, Pat hid nipped oot ae the car and hid quietly tried the front and back doors while recceing the hoose.  Efter spending a longer time than he wid normally hiv spent, Tony hid eventually managed tae get the wee jemmy under wan ae the wee latch windaes above the main bedroom.  He’d tae take his time tae keep the noise doon.  He’d still hid his doubts as tae whether they wur oan a wild goose chase until he’d opened the wee windae and slipped his erm in tae open the main windae haundle.  A blast ae warm air hid hit him when he’d stuck his heid through.  Who the fuck wid hiv heating oan at this time ae the year unless they wur staying in the hoose, he’d thought tae himsel.  According tae Fast Track Dave, this wis where Harper wis holed up.  Whoever wis in the hoose wis keeping themsel warm.  Wance he’d slipped in, he’d quietly closed o’er the windae behind him and hid tip-toed across tae the bedroom door that wis sitting ajar.  He’d stood listening fur a full two minutes before he’d gone and looked intae the other three bedrooms at the tap ae the hoose.  Efter making it doon tae the ground flair, he’d slowly peered through the doors tae the two rooms at the front ae the hoose.  Wan ae them, wae a Christmas tree in it, looked as if somewan hid been in it, opened the presents and then jist left whit they’d found lying scattered aboot.  He’d noticed that the cushions fae the ermchairs and couch wur missing.  He’d checked oot the kitchen and a large utility room where the back door wis and hid found nothing.  Efter retracing his steps, aw the way back up tae the bedrooms tae look under beds and in the wardrobes, Harper wis still naewhere tae be seen.  Tony hid been convinced that Harper, or somewan, hid been in the hoose at some point, and no that long before them either.  He’d then slowly retraced his steps back doon tae the ground flair and hid started tae quietly open cupboard doors, feeling panic welling up inside ae him.  Time wis running oot.  They needed tae find the basturt before The Big Man disappeared aff ae the scene.  Maist ae them wid be deid, including himsel, if they hid tae wait until March or April until The Big Man arrived back in Glesga...and then it hid hit him.  He wis staunin in the bottom hallway.  The street light ootside wis shining a beam ae light through the glass above the front door.  The light lit up the area where the back door wis.  Tony hid tiptoed across and checked the shiny brass security chain.  It hid been latched up tae stoap anywan entering.  He’d then tiptoed tae the front door.  The security chain hid been oan the latch there as well.

  “Bingo!” he’d whispered tae himsel, feeling elated.

  He’d cautiously tiptoed back up tae the bedroom windae where he’d entered.  Looking oot, he’d signalled tae the dark shape below him.  Hauf a minute later, Snappy hid appeared through the windae.

  “Snappy, ya bampot, ye.  Ah thought Ah telt ye it wis Simon Ah wanted in the hoose?” he’d whispered.

  “He’s nipped aff back tae the car tae get his tammy.  He says he’s freezing.”

  “Right, listen up.  He’s here, bit he’s hiding.  Ah’ve been aw o’er the place.  Ah think he’s in wan ae the cupboards in the hall doon the stair.  Noo, listen up.  We cannae hiv any squealing or shouting.  Hiv ye goat that?” Tony hid warned him.

  “Ah’m yer man,” Snappy hid whispered back, grinning.

  Efter returning tae the hallway oan the ground flair, Snappy hid started searching the cupboards at the front ae the hall and Tony at the back.  The last door tae be opened hid let oot a blast ae hot air.  When they’d slipped in, they’d stood fur a few seconds tae let their eyes get used tae the difference in light.  At the bottom ae the stairs in front ae them, a red fiery glow could be seen.  When they’d reached the bottom, they could make oot the ootline ae a body lying oan tap ae whit wis obviously the cushions fae the three piece suite.  The red glow hid been coming fae wan ae the bars ae the electric fire that hid been left oan.  Tony hid looked aboot.  It wisnae a bad wee set-up Harper hid made fur himsel.  There wis a telly, ermchair and aw sorts ae food lying aboot.  Tony hid noticed that he wis using an empty milk bottle as an ashtray.  It hid been aboot a hauf full ae fag ends.  Tony reckoned that Harper must’ve been there a good few days tae accumulate that amount ae tabs.  He’d nodded tae Snappy tae waken Harper up.  Tony hid gone and stood between Sleeping Beauty and the stairs leading upwards.  He’d watched Snappy, who’d swiftly walked across the room, withdrawing a dark shape oot ae the waistband ae his troosers.  Snappy hid bent o’er and covered Harper’s mooth wae his haun, while at the same time, hid pressed the barrel ae the .32 hammerless Colt
against Harper’s foreheid.

  “Wan move and ye’re a fucking goner!” Snappy hid whispered, as Harper let oot a frightened, muffled yelp.

  Harper put doon his mug and wiped his lips wae the back ae his haun and looked across at Tony.  He seemed tae be avoiding Pat’s eyes.  A noise came fae the living room next door and Harper’s scared eyes shot across tae the kitchen door, before returning tae Tony.

  “Harper, you and me ur gonnae hiv a wee chat, so we ur.  Noo, how ye respond is gonnae determine whether ye live beyond the day or no,” Tony informed him.

  “Tony, Ah’m no t...”

  “Harper, shut the fuck up and let me finish,” Tony growled, haudin up the palm ae his haun.

  “Tony...”

  “Right, if Ah hiv tae ask ye tae shut up again, Ah’m oot ae here.  Hiv Ah made masel clear?”

  “Aye,” Harper croaked, shaking like a leaf, as he glanced across at Pat, who wis sitting opposite him, no saying a word.

  “Right, that hunner quid that Ah owe ye is sitting oan the cabinet across there.  It’s yours and ye kin pick it up and heid oot ae the door anytime ye want.  Aw Ah need fae yersel is five or ten minutes tae answer a few wee questions and then ye kin shoot the craw.  Okay?”

  “Er, aye, fire away, Tony,” Harper replied nervously, taking a quick glance at the stash ae notes sitting oan the kitchen cabinet.

  “Right, the night Joe McManus goat plunged ootside the bingo hall in Gourlay Street, you wur hunched doon behind a yellow Escort across the street and saw everything.  Is that right?”

  Harper’s white face turned even whiter as he swayed oan the chair, looking fae Tony tae Pat and back again tae Tony again.  Tony could practically see that brain ae his whizzing aroond.

  “Ah, er, Ah’m no sure...whit, er, dae ye mean, Tony?” he spluttered.

  “Ah also happen tae know that The Simpsons hiv found oot that ye saw everything and that they’ve goat Jo Jo Robson and Frisky Frank organising hauf the stab merchants in the toon tae look fur ye, so they hiv.”

  Silence.

  “Ah also know, fur a fact, that Toby his said that he wants ye alive...tae start wae, that is.  Noo, ye know where we staun wae that bunch ae tadgers, so, as long as ye’re wae us, nowan is gonnae get a haud ae ye.  Aw Ah need fae you is a wee bit ae information and then ye kin get oan yer way.”

  “Tony, Ah swear...”

  “Harper, don’t bloody-well dae this tae me.  We know ye saw whit happened.  That’s a fact.  Aw Ah need fae yersel is a few wee pointers.”

Silence.

  “Wh…whit ur youse gonnae dae tae me?” Harper finally squealed, fingers shaking as he gently touched the bruise oan his foreheid, where Snappy hid pressed the barrel ae the haungun against it.

  “Ye’ve two choices, so ye hiv.  Efter we hiv a wee word, ye kin piss aff and take yer chances oot there oan the streets,” he said, nodding across tae the windae, “Or, ye kin kip here fur a few days in Pat’s place, until the weekend, when the heat will hiv died doon.  It’s up tae yersel.”

  “Whit…whit dae ye want tae know, Tony?”

  “If Ah wanted tae hiv a wee quiet word wae Tam Simpson...man tae man...withoot anywan else knowing Ah wis there, how wid Ah go aboot it?”

  “Tam Simpson?  Er, Ah’m no sure.  Why wid somewan like me…er, know something like that?”

  “It wid need tae be a surprise tae him as well, so it wid.  It wid need tae be unannounced,” Tony continued soothingly, ignoring the question.

  “Ah…Ah’m no sure.  He’s always oan the go, bit he’s never in the wan place fur long.  Ah know he meets Blaster Mackay twice a week.”

  “Ah’m talking aboot oot ae sight ae anywan, including somewan like Blaster, Harper.  Think aboot it fur a minute,” Tony said, as Pat replaced Harper’s empty mug ae tea wae a fresh wan.

  “There’s only really the wan time that Ah know where he is fur sure and that’s a…a Friday morning...Ah think,” he said, furtively glancing across at Pat, before turning back tae look at Tony again.

  “Aye?”

  “Or at least, it wis up until recently, bit… Ah widnae put money oan it.”

  “Harper, let us decide whether whit ye say is helpful or no,” Pat advised, speaking fur the first time.

  “He’s perching oan somewan...a social worker...ma sister’s social worker…a right evil cow.  She wis the wan that took ma niece and nephew aff ae her when Hawkeye goat...er, murdered.  She tries tae come across as some sort ae doo-gooding Christian, bit she’s nothing bit an evil hairy, so she is,” Harper scowled bitterly.

  “Aye, Ah’d heard he wis dipping his wick, oan the QT, withoot that mad wife ae his knowing aboot it, so Ah hid.”

  “Really?  Ye’ve heard aboot that?” Harper asked, surprise in his voice.

  “Harper, ye’re no the only wan that wants tae help us oot jist noo.  So, he’s pumping some floozy social worker?  Whit aboot it?”

  Silence.

  “Ah…Ah happen tae know exactly where,” Harper confessed, drapping his bombshell.