Bridge of Doom (13 page)

On the second day of the Max Bellendi handbag promotion, Jack was in the security office monitoring the video screens when a familiar face caught his attention. He alerted the security manager and contacted Annie, using a hand held radio. 

'Annie, it's me. I've just seen our handbag thief walk into the store two minutes ago. Obviously she's wearing a completely different outfit and hat this time, but I’m pretty sure it’s her. It looks like you were right, they’re back to check out the new handbags.' 

'Terrific, what do you want me to do?'
 

'Just stay where you are and I'll give you a heads up when she's getting close. But try and stand in a spot where she can't see you and watch what she does. And it would be great if you could use your iPhone camera to video her swiping the handbags.' 

Unaware that a trap had been set, the same woman brazenly approached the handbag sales counter and once again went through exactly the same routine as before, carefully inspecting the entire range of new Italian handbags. Annie watched the performance unfold from her vantage point, hidden behind a display of expensive luggage. A few minutes later the woman checked her phone and then, when the sales assistant's back was turned for a few seconds, she reached into her coat pocket to activate the electronic jamming device, before stuffing three of the new handbags into an empty shopping bag with lightning speed.  

'Gotcha!' squealed Annie to herself, before quickly checking her phone to ensure that she had captured the theft on video.
 

Five minutes later three members of the gang were simultaneously detained by store security. One was in the act of removing security tags from the three stolen handbags, which had been left in a security camera blind spot. Loudly protesting their innocence, all three were taken upstairs to the security offices to be interviewed and await the arrival of the local police. Two other suspected gang members wrestled free from the clutches of security guards at the store’s main entrance and legged it down Buchanan Street, quickly disappearing into the crowd of shoppers.
 

The relieved department store manager personally thanked Annie for the successful apprehension of the handbag thieves. ‘We've won this particular battle thanks to JD Investigations, and we’re extremely grateful to both of you for that. But the war goes on. Hopefully the members of the gang will be charged and fined in due course, but the reality is they could be back in the store tomorrow, trying some new scam. I really wish there was some other way of combating these gangs.’ 

While they were waiting for the police to arrive, Jack took the opportunity to have a chat with the leader of the gang. 

‘Hello there, Jackie, you don't remember me do you? I nicked you, let's see it must be almost thirty years ago, in the Argyle Street branch of Woolworths. The reason I remembered your face is because you were my very first collar as a rookie cop.’ 

'That's fascinating,' said Jackie, yawning widely. 'I suppose this is where I should say that you haven't changed a bit either. But, to be honest, I don't remember you at all Mr …'
 

'My name's Davidson … Jack Davidson. Of course, I'm a private detective these days.'

Jackie fluttered her eyelids and said, 'well maybe if could slip your old police uniform on for me, Jack, that might jog my memory. I am rather partial to a good looking man wearing a uniform.' 

Jack felt his cheeks turning red with embarrassment. 'I don't think it would fit me, but I'll see what I can do.’

‘I’ll tell you one thing I do remember clearly from thirty years ago, Jack. I wasn't a very good shoplifter when I was starting out.' 

'Yeah well, to be perfectly honest I wasn't much of a cop back then either,’ replied Jack. ‘I think we probably both got better in our respective careers as the years have rolled by.' 

'That's true enough. Actually, I suppose I should be flattered that you still recognised me after thirty years.'
 

'It's the way you walk and those high cheekbones. You've definitely still got it, Jackie. You don't do online dating by any chance?' 

'You're kidding me, right? That's just for the terminally sad and desperate.' 

'My thoughts exactly,' said Jack. 'I just wondered, you know.' 

'Look, isn't there some way we could make this whole thing just go away, Mr Davidson?' said Jackie huskily, as she edged her chair a few inches closer, so that her knees brushed against Jack’s. ‘Instead of involving all of those nasty policemen, perhaps you could take down my … particulars?’

Annie joined them in the holding room at that moment and after a moment’s hesitation, Jack coughed loudly and replied, ‘I'm afraid not, Jackie. Not this time. We've got you bang to rights, in possession of an electronic security jammer. There's only one use for that and it's all been captured on video by my partner here
.
So the cops are definitely coming for you this time and it's an easy collar for them. With your record, there will definitely be a big fine, that's a given. And, who knows, if you're unlucky on the day and get a sheriff whose piles are killing him, you could even be looking at some prison time. Don't laugh, it does happen occasionally.'
 

Completely unfazed, Jackie smiled and replied, 'what can you do, Mr Davidson? It's just part of the game, isn't it? But to tell you the truth, although I say it's a game, shoplifting isn't nearly as much fun as it used to be. I do still get the same old buzz when a raid on a store goes exactly as planned, but it's really hard to get good people nowadays. I mean the youngsters just won't listen, you know.'  

Jack looked knowingly at Annie, then replied, 'Yeah, tell me about it.' 

'They think they know everything and won't be told. Know what I mean?' 

'You're not wrong,' said Jack.
 

'And the other big problem nowadays is that a lot of the kids have their heads messed up by drugs, so they start to get sloppy in their work and end up getting caught more often. Then I have to pay their fines into the bargain. I tell you, some weeks after I've covered all of my out of pocket expenses, I'm hardly breaking even.' 

'Okay, get the paper hankies and violins out, Annie, I can’t take much more of this.'
 

'Look, you don't need to feel sorry for me, Mr Davidson. I'm thinking of packing it in anyway, because I can't be arsed anymore with all the hassle. I've got a nice frontline apartment, bought and paid for over in Gran Canaria for my retirement. It's got everything I want. A nice big balcony and all the sun, sea and sand I can handle. Then on top of that, there's the cheap booze and fags, all my soaps on satellite television and an endless supply of fit young men. So what's not to like, as they say? They even have some decent local boutiques, where the rich German bitches go to shop, if I ever feel the urge to keep my hand in. You know what I mean?'
 

'That sounds really nice,' sighed Jack. 'You don't have a spare room for visitors from Scotland by any chance? I've still got my bucket and spade lying around somewhere and I could bring over emergency supplies of square sausage and Irn-Bru.' 

'Well there might be, for the right person. Know what I mean, Jack? How about you give me your business card and I’ll send a postcard the next time I'm over there.'
 

As they left the store and began walking back up Buchanan Street to collect their car, Annie hissed, 'please tell me you weren't serious back there? Chatting up that horrible old bitch, trying to blag a free holiday over in Gran Canaria. It was totally pathetic.’
 

'She's not
that
old, Annie. Probably just a few years younger than me, now I come to think about it, and still quite well preserved. In fact, is she not one of the fascinating Glasgow cougars you were telling me about just the other day?'

'Yes, she would be suitable for a date, if she wasn’t a crook and a complete chancer. Men are so pathetic and predictable, I mean the way she was playing you back there. Mark my words, boss, your face will end up splashed all over the front page of the Daily Record. I can see the headlines now,
'Bent ex-cop and glamorous granny share a love nest in Gran Canaria, paid for by stolen handbags.'
 

'It does have a certain ring to it, now you come to mention it,’ said Jack. ‘But I don't think anyone in the Royal Bar would give a shit, to be honest.'

The next morning Annie picked Jack up from his flat, for the trip to Edinburgh and a meeting with Henry Dunn.

Jack settled into the passenger seat of the leased Corsa, put his seat belt on and for the first time took a proper look at the interior of the new car. 'It's very nice, Annie, but where's the cassette player?' 

Smirking, she replied, 'there isn't one, boss. In case you don’t know, technology's moved on and so has popular music. We're actually in the twenty-first century now, remember?' 

'But that's no good,' said Jack anxiously. 'I mean how will we get some decent tunes?'
 

After being tortured by Jack's country music compilation tapes, when she started working at JD Investigations, Annie had been eagerly anticipating this particular conversation. Smiling to herself, she replied, 'it's simple,
we
get music by turning on the radio, or by doing
this
… she pressed a button and Sam Smith started to warble
"Stay with Me."
She started humming and tapped her fingers happily on the steering wheel in time to the music and explained, 'it's so simple, my iPhone makes a Bluetooth connection with the car's
DAB
radio, and I can have all
my
favourite playlists with me while I'm driving. I absolutely love it.' 

Unimpressed, Jack slumped down in his seat and grunted, 'Anyway, who the fuck is
that
trying to sing?' 

'Oh, that's Sam Smith … he's really good, eh?'
 

'Huh … sounds as if he's snagged his balls on a barbed wire fence, if you ask me,' snorted Jack.

'Well I'm
not
asking you. It’s
my
car,
my
rules okay? The driver controls the music,
that's
the way it works.' 

'But …' 

'No buts allowed, boss,' said Annie with a big grin. 'So, be a brave soldier and just suck it up, the same way I had to for weeks on end. Remember?'
 

Continuing on the drive through to Edinburgh, Annie enjoyed torturing Jack with a specially selected playlist, comprising James Blunt, Ed Sheeran, Coldplay, Mumford and Sons and James Morrison. Truly, revenge is a dish best served cold. 

After half an hour of stony silence, apart from the music, Jack said, 'look I can't stand this bloody racket any longer. Stop the car, Annie, this is a medical emergency. I need to get out, slit my wrists and lie down in the outside lane to end it all quickly.'
 

'Okay then,
now
you know how I felt, okay?' replied Annie with a satisfied grin. 'Trust me, you're getting off lightly, because I suffered your endless crappy cassettes for at least six weeks, when I started working with you. Remember? All of those wailing women and, of course, Hank bloody Williams, senior
and
junior. Honestly, it nearly did my head in.' 

'Okay, I humbly apologise from the bottom of my cassette collection, for any unintended offence caused.' 

'Apology accepted,' said Annie with a satisfied grin. ‘I'll put the news on.'
 

Still on the M8 motorway, a few miles before the Hermiston Gait roundabout, Jack said, ‘I'd never admit it to old Henry, but on a nice sunny day like this when you're driving into Edinburgh from the west, the city skyline is really beautiful. If I remember correctly, it's just around here … yes, just for a moment you can see the Pentland hills on the right, then around the bend there's Arthurs Seat in the distance, with Edinburgh Castle there in the middle and Corstorphine Hill over on the left. It's quite something isn't it?’
 

'Sorry, boss,' said Annie, checking her rear view mirror. 'I can't take my eyes off the road because I've got a guy who's been tailgating me for the last two miles. It's so stupid when there's heavy traffic in both lanes and there's nowhere for anybody to go.'  

Jack looked round and shrugged, 'Oh, don't worry, Annie. It's just the prick in the Porsche.' 

'Do you know him?' 

'No, I don't know him personally. It's just a type, Annie, and there's thousands of them, unfortunately. I remember reading somewhere that these idiots who persistently tailgate are showing signs of repressed homosexuality.' 

'How so?' 

'I think it’s something to do with deriving pleasure from creeping up really close behind complete strangers' back bumpers. Probably a load of bollocks. I usually just blow them a kiss, when I pull over and let them past.'

Five minutes later they found themselves stationary in a traffic jam at the notorious Hermiston Gait roundabout, caused by a minor shunt between a lorry and a white van driver, who had jumped lanes at the last minute without indicating.

‘They do this just to get you used to the traffic jams when you eventually reach the city centre. At least back in Glasgow the traffic flows most of the time.’

Jack could see that Annie was becoming increasingly frustrated by the hold-up and decided to share a secret with her to take her mind off the enforced delay.

‘I've thought a lot about what we spoke about in the car last week. You know, your aunt Peggie’s idea that I should give online dating a try.'

'When you didn't say anything more, I thought you'd just forgotten about it.'

'It came to me the very same night. I had just microwaved a frozen dinner for one, followed by an individual fruit tart. Then I was halfway through singing a romantic ballad to the goldfish, when I was stopped dead in my tracks with the realisation that I'm probably going to die lonely and alone, if I don't do something about it soon. So I did. I registered right away with one of the online dating websites and, amazingly, I started to get some interest quite quickly.'
 

'You’re a sneaky old dog. Have you managed to actually meet up with anyone?' 

'Long story short, Annie, I've been out on a couple of dates. You know me, I don’t hang about when I decide to do something. But I didn't say anything to you before, because I knew you would take the piss out of me something rotten.' 

'Nonsense, I'm really happy for you. So how did it go?’

'Well the first one was a complete disaster from start to finish. Not entirely my fault but, suffice to say, details of
that
particular evening will not be released to the public until at least thirty years after my death.' 

'And the other one?' 

'That was better. I found this woman that I quite liked the look of. So we chatted online and then we arranged to meet in a pub in the city centre. We had a couple of drinks, then moved on for a nice Italian meal and we seemed to get on quite well together. Then she asked me back to her place for a coffee.'

'Very good,' said Annie, who was surprised and impressed. 'You're a bit of a dark horse, boss. So come on, tell me … what happened then? Was it a Netflix and chill evening?’
 

'I’ve no idea what you’re talking about, Annie, but we did have a coffee and got comfortable together on the couch. Oh, and then she gave me a Hobnob.'  

'Is Hobnob a new code word for something absolutely filthy?' 

'No, Annie, it's a biscuit.' 

'So did anything
else
happen? Was there any … you know,
action
?' 

'Look, a gentleman doesn't share details about that kind of thing,’ said Jack, coyly. ‘The point is that I
thought
we had both enjoyed the evening, so I've tried to contact her several times since, to arrange a follow-up date. But she hasn't acknowledged any of my calls or texts. I think I've probably been consciously uncoupled. Or do you think she's just playing hard to get? Should I keep trying to get in touch with her?' 

'I don't think so, because that would just make you look desperate. I mean, obviously you
are
desperate, and so is everyone else who's doing online dating. But the trick is not to show it. Let's face it, boss, you've been humped and dumped and she's moved on to the next warm body. But you're a big boy, so just build a bridge and get over it. Men have been doing the same thing to women since the year dot.' 

With the jam ahead finally cleared and the traffic starting to move, Jack said, ‘anyway, enough of true confessions for the moment. I’ll tell you the rest back in the office, because I definitely need some tips on the unwritten rules of online dating.’