Authors: Ian Todd
Chapter Sixteen
“Silent, naw!”
Shit, shit, shit! Too late! The contents ae the inside ae Deck McGuiness’s skull hid awready made a right mess ae Wee Jimmy Tarbuck’s freshly hung, cherry-patterned, vinyl wallpaper, in his newly done-up office in the West End Chinese Laundry across in Finnieston. No that Jimmy seemed tae be gieing a toss aboot that. He wis too busy kicking whit wis left ae Deck’s exploded, empty skull, tae make sure he goat his tuppence worth in before Deck departed this life.
“Take that, ya cunt, ye!” Wee Jimmy screamed, as another bloodied, rubber-soled, welly boot sent Deck’s bloody heid bouncing aff ae the cherry wallpaper jist above the skirting board again.
Johnboy looked doon, aghast, his eyes being drawn tae the smudged, blood soaked wallpaper like a magnet. Deck’s heid hid left a bloody, spongy, roond, wet imprint oan the wall where it hid bounced aff ae it efter Jimmy hid used it fur penalty practice. It reminded Johnboy ae when he wis a wee boy, kicking an auld, wet and soaking leather bladder fitba through aw the puddles, up against the tall concrete wall ae the Stow College ae Hairdressing car park up in North Fredrick Street in the rain. Johnboy’s eyes wur further taken prisoner, as they travelled up the cherry-patterned wall towards the ceiling. At heid height, there wis a big bloody splatter, wae bits ae white stuff and whit looked like hauf ae Deck’s fine heid ae hair, smattering upwards oan tae the pristine white, newly-emulsioned ceiling.
“And that, ya fucking big ugly basturt, ye!” Jimmy
howled, panting like some stud aboot tae shoot that load ae his, as he let fly wae another penalty shot.
Johnboy shook his heid tae try and bring himsel back tae real speed time. Everything seemed tae hiv kicked aff in slow motion. He shot a filthy look across at Silent, who wis noo staunin in the middle ae the room wae baith his hauns stuck in tae his trooser pockets, they erms ae his held tightly against his sides as if he wis hugging himsel, similar tae the pose Bob Dylan used oan the front cover ae his ‘The Freewheelin’ album cover…the wan that included his girlfriend hinging aff ae that erm ae his. There wis nae sign ae the gun.
Despite the room being full ae smoke and the heavy acrid smell ae whit he assumed tae be cordite biting in tae the back ae his throat, Johnboy managed tae find his voice, while fighting the strong urge tae aboot-turn and get away fae the office as fast as they legs ae his wid carry him.
“Ur you bloody nuts or whit, Silent, ya fucking dick-heided diddy, ye?” Johnboy snarled, fighting tae keep the panic oot ae his voice, as Silent continued tae staun there, looking as if butter widnae melt in that mooth ae his.
Johnboy suddenly grabbed a haud ae the haundle ae Jimmy’s office door tae steady himsel, as he felt himsel sway. ‘Whit the fuck ur ye gonnae dae noo,’ somewan’s voice, that he didnae recognise, shouted oot in that scrambled brain ae his, as the body ae wan ae Maryhill’s biggest shitehooses finally gied up the ghost, by letting oot wan final rattling gurgle.
“Right, ye’re gonnae fucking own up tae Tony and the rest ae them oan this. And don’t you dare, bloody-well involve me, ya selfish, fucking skinny imbecile, ye,” Johnboy hauf-shrieked and hauf-hissed at Silent, quickly glancing oot ae Wee Jimmy’s office windae, as his senses, at last, started tae function again.
“Boys, boys, oh-ma-God, nice wan, nice wan, pure fucking dead brilliant, so it is. Christ, Ah wis cat-meat if ye hidnae turned up when youse did,” Wee Jimmy celebrated joyfully. “Here, c’mone noo, hiv a drink oan me,” Jimmy wheezed, as he slipped and nearly fell oan that arse ae his, as he scurried across the blood-splattered lino flair and yanked open the tap drawer ae his fancy new desk.
Baith Johnboy and Silent stood there, no speaking, looking across at Jimmy, as he snatched up a bottle ae Bells and proceeded tae gulp doon aboot hauf ae the contents, his face screwing up, before offering it across tae them efter letting oot a loud gasp and burp at the same time. Oan the left haun side ae his heid, Jimmy’s hair wis staunin oan end fae where that side ae his face hid been repeatedly bounced aff the tap ae the new desk that Johnboy and Silent hid supplied him way a few weeks earlier. It looked as if some basturt hid whacked him oan the side ae the heid wae a builder’s plank. Despite continuously spitting oan the palm ae his haun and making attempts tae flatten it back doon, the hair kept springing back up wance the spit dried oot.
“Ah’m sorry, Ah hivnae goat any glasses. Ah’ll need tae get some,” Jimmy said, by way ae an apology, licking the palm ae his haun again, while at the same time, proffering the bottle ae whisky towards Johnboy, who shook his heid.
“Hiv ye any Irn Bru, Jimmy?” Silent asked, speaking up fur the first time in nearly three weeks.
“Naw, jist this, wee man,” Jimmy replied, taking another skoof fae the forty-ouncer.
Johnboy felt his heart sinking rapidly. It felt like he wis hivving wee mini-heart attacks. He wondered if it wis a panic attack. He’d never knowingly come across anywan who’d confessed tae hivving hid wan, bit he’d read aboot them somewhere. Johnboy cursed again, looking across at Silent. It hidnae taken long fur Johnboy’s fears tae be confirmed. Johnboy hid known fine well that the gun hid trouble written aw o’er it, especially since it wis the first gun that Silent hid ever owned ootright. Guns wur nothing new tae The Mankys, so that wisnae the problem as far as Johnboy hid been concerned. They’d been dabbling wae them ever since they wur snappers back in the Toonheid. In fact, the last thing they needed wis another gun, seeing as they awready hid a stash ae haunguns as well as hauf a dozen sawn-affs that wid’ve been enough tae start the next World War wae. Christ, they even hid a hunting rifle wae its ain sights. It hid been the manner in which it hid goat intae Silent’s hauns in the first place that hid made Johnboy uneasy. Silent, being Silent, jist couldnae keep they sticky fingers ae his tae himsel. Earlier in the week, despite walking aboot wae a back pocket full ae dosh, Silent hid decided tae go fur a stroll intae Bigforests oan Argyle Street, efter getting fed up waiting tae meet up wae Johnboy doon oan George’s Square. Within ten seconds ae wandering intae the store, two big burly store detectives hid hauled that manky arse ae
his up tae an office efter catching him trying tae ding wan ae the tills near the front door. Fur whitever reason, the stupid basturts hid then gone and left him there, probably tae go and fetch the bizzies. Meanwhile, Silent still hidnae been able tae contain himsel, and hid started rifling through the desk in the office. There, sitting in wan ae the drawers, in a fancy wooden presentation case hid been a shiny, Walther PPK haungun, wae oak leaf engraving oan it.
No only that, bit sitting beside it hid been a box ae .32 calibre cartridges. Efter helping himsel tae James Bond’s favourite weapon, Silent hid nipped oot the door intae the corridor and doon the staff stairs, two at a time, before exiting oot ae the fire door oan tae Miller Street. Silent hid been like a buzzing bluebottle wallowing roond a pile ae steaming shite ever since. Efter they’d gone up the road tae the flat they shared in Heim Street, Silent hid broken the gun doon straightaway, cleaned it and reassembled it, before blasting the glass fish that sat oan tap ae their stolen Radio Rentals’ colour telly. Johnboy’s ma and da hid gied them the fish as a hoose-warming present efter they moved in a couple ae years earlier. It hid taken them aboot three hours tae pick up maist ae the glass fae the carpet. Efter Tony and Snappy hid arrived roond at the flat, Johnboy hid tried tae get Tony tae get the gun aff ae Silent, bit he’d refused tae get involved.
“Wow, check this oot. James Bond wid be proud tae be clocked running aboot wae this thing in his haun,” Snappy hid ooh-ed, twirling it aboot oan his finger like a gunslinger, equally impressed.
“Look, he’s only jist goat it. Let him play wae it fur a couple ae days and we’ll get shot ae it efter that,” Tony hid promised Johnboy, efter Silent hid disappeared in tae the toilet fur a slash.
“Ah bloody hate guns, especially if they’re in Silent or Snappy’s hauns,” Johnboy remembered bleating loudly at the time.
Everywan Johnboy hid spoken tae o’er the next few days, apart fae Silent and Snappy, hid agreed that Silent widnae be getting tae keep the gun. It wis engraved wae some auld boy’s name oan it, stating that it wis commemorating forty five years ae sterling service as president ae some gun club in Chicago. It wis too easily traced wae aw that fancy oak leaf engraving oan it, if it wis used fur anything it shouldnae hiv been…like plugging a mad basturt fae Maryhill in that thick skull ae his. How the hell it hid ended up in the drawer ae a desk in Bigforests in Argyle Street in Glesga hid been anywan’s guess. Eventually, Tony hid telt Silent that he’d see how much Erchie The Basturt and his brother, Mad Philip, Glesga’s tap gun dealers, wid gie them fur it. In the meantime, Tony hid warned Silent no tae go oot and aboot, carrying it oan him. Tony and Snappy’s visit tae the flat hidnae been a social wan either. A month efter Tony and some ae the other Mankys hid sprung the trap oan Tam Simpson and the social worker that he’d been shagging, Wan-bob Broon himsel hid decided tae grace The Mankys wae his presence and hid come up tae Springburn tae hiv a wee pow-wow wae them. The Mankys knew they’d arrived when Alex, the manager ae Jonah’s, the lounge they drank in, hid haunded o’er the keys tae Tony and telt him tae lock up efter their meeting wae Wan-bob. Wan-bob hid brought alang wan ae his scariest bears, The Goat, so-called oan account ae his favourite phrase being ‘goat ye,’ as his victims nose-dived at a hunner miles an hour towards the flair, efter getting knocked oot by a dig fae that big right hook ae his. At first, when Tony hid announced tae Pat, Silent, Johnboy, Simon, Jake, Ben, Snappy and Peter, that Wan-bob himsel wanted tae meet up wae them, everywan hid been quite excited. When the time hid finally come fur the meeting, everywan hid mair or less goat lost in their ain thoughts, waiting fur the knock oan the lounge door. Nowan hid been too sure whit wis gonnae happen. Snappy hid wanted everywan tae get tooled up, jist in case Wan-bob hid decided tae get rid ae The Mankys, bit Tony hid telt him tae get a life.
“Hellorerr, boys. Right, this is ma roond,” Wan-bob hid announced cheerfully, as he’d heided behind the bar and started haunin o’er everywan’s orders.
Meanwhile, The Goat hidnae said a word or taken a drink. He’d jist stood inside the door, like a sturdy ten feet tall steel girder, taking everything in. It hidnae helped people’s nerves that he wis decked oot in a big black Crombie coat, draped o’er his shoulders, and hid stood wae they hauns ae his, hidden in the coat somewhere. Everywan hid been shiting themsels, waiting fur him tae draw a couple ae automatic haunguns before blasting away at everywan.
“Well, boys, ye’ve excelled yersels wae that wee bit ae business oan Hogmanay, so youse hiv. The Big Man is well-chuffed wae yer performance and professionalism. So here’s tae ye,” Wan-bob hid said, knocking back his large single malt in wan go, as everywan warily sipped oan their pints ae lager, wondering whit the fuck wis coming next.
“So, Bob, ye wanted tae speak tae us?” Tony hid asked oan everywan’s behauf.
“Aye, ye always wur in a wee bit ae a hurry Tony, so ye wur. Look, let’s grab a pew and we kin aw hiv a wee chin-wag thegither, eh?” Wan-bob hid suggested, helping himsel tae another large wan, before sliding oot fae behind the bar and joining The Mankys who’d aw heided across tae the corner tables where they could sit wae their backs tae the wall and keep an eye oan The Goat at the far end ae the lounge.
“See whit happens when ye end up getting caught, Johnboy? Ye miss oot oan aw the fun, so ye dae,” Wan-bob hid quipped, referring tae Johnboy and Silent hivving been in Polmont when aw the shite wis flying aboot wae The Simpsons.
“Ach, well, it’s always good tae know yer pals ur oot there taking care ae things in preparation ae ye coming hame,” Johnboy hid replied, being rewarded wae a smile back, as everywan started tae relax.
“Okay, tae business. Here’s how it’s gonnae work. Youse hiv goat a free haun fur noo. Ye kin go fur anything that takes yer fancy.”
“Dis that include the railways?” Snappy hid asked eagerly, butting in.
“That’s including the railways. Noo, there ur a few wee exceptions. Youse kin operate in the toon centre, bit we need tae be forewarned, beforehaun, if ye know whit Ah mean? Ye kin rob the shoaps and offices blind fur aw we care, bit anything involving shooters, ye come tae me first. Dae Ah make masel clear?” Wan-Bob hid growled, looking sternly across at Silent, gieing him the evil eye.
Silent hid nearly started World War Three between The Big Man’s team and The Simpsons when he’d shot wan ae The Simpsons’ bogey-men, a mean ugly basturt called Bootsy Bell, who’d tried tae run Silent and Snappy o’er in a car, doon in Waterloo Street. Satisfied that Silent hid goat the message, efter Johnboy hid nodded oan his behauf, Wan-bob hid continued.
“We don’t mind ye gaun intae the West End, bit stay well away fae the factors’ offices. We’ve goat investments there and we don’t want youse wee manky fuckers upsetting any ae oor associates. And another bloody thing,” he’d warned sternly, slowly looking roond everywan individually, fur full affect, “Stay oan this side ae the Clyde. Don’t go messing aboot across oan the south side. Youse will jist end up getting people’s backs up and it’s no worth the hassle. Oan oor part, we’ll lend youse a wee helping haun as and when we think ye might need it until youse find yer feet. If required, we’ll put the word oot tae let people know that ye’re daeing business fur and wae us noo.”