The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter (29 page)

Chapter Forty One

   “Excellent, Frank, excellent.  And you think you’ll manage to do that?  Great, I will await your call,” The Duke said, putting doon the telephone.

  He looked roond as the Duchess entered the room.

  “Any news?” she asked.

  “Yes and no,” he replied, pulling the cord at the side ae the mantle-piece tae summons wan ae the maids.

  “Your Lordship?” Morven asked, entering the room.

  “Tea and coffee with cream,” he replied.

  “What does yes and no mean?” the Duchess enquired, strain showing oan her face.

  “The police…at least, the local police, don’t think she’s been kidnapped.  Inspector Cotter from Inverness said that Saba has displayed all the classic patterns of a runaway, such as her persistent attempts to escape, whilst throwing tantrums at her parents...in this case…me.  We both agreed that it could be acute women’s trouble...you know...the time of the month and all that.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake, John!” the Duchess howled, wiping a tear away fae her eye wae her lace handkerchief.

“And I didn’t want to bring this up...and I do hope you won’t think I’m being insensitive...but the gel was actually quite disturbed when she arrived here.”

  “Are you blaming me?”

  “No, what I’m saying is...Saba is a sensitive gel.  Being dragged about behind a mother who spends half her life in a Park Avenue shopping boutique and the other half chasing young stags, not much older than her own daughter, has affected her quite profoundly.”

  “I cannot believe I’m hearing this, especially at a time when my baby is probably in the hands of a psychopathic lunatic, who tricked the authorities into releasing him from an asylum,” the Duchess cried oot before nose-diving intae a fit ae weeping.

  “The police say there’s no evidence to link this thug with the removal of the engine parts of the cars.  They did say that they’ll investigate the matter and that they’ve put out a detailed description of him.  Inspector Cotter said that there isn’t much more they can do at this stage, unless…”

  “Unless?”

  “Er…unless there is any evidence of foul play.”

  “We need to get the Pinkerton agency involved, John.  They’ll know what to do,” the Duchess implored.

  “Bea, the Pinkerton agency doesn’t have any jurisdiction in this country, and besides, we haven’t got the time.
I’ve spoken to Sir Frank and he has assured me that Saba’s disappearance will be splashed over the front page of The Glasgow Echo first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “What good will announcing Saba’s disappearance in The Glasgow Echo do?  This is the Highlands.”

  “The Echo is a national newspaper.  Whatever they put on their front page…the other media outlets will follow.  He’s also informed me that he’ll use his influence to get a highly experienced detective on the case…someone who knows what he’s doing.  Don’t you worry, darling…we’ll get our baby back, safe and sound, in no time at all…you’ll see,” The Duke said, kneeling doon beside The Duchess tae wipe the tears fae her eyes, jist as Morven arrived wae the tea, coffee and cream.

Chapter Forty Two

  “Paddy!  Paddy!  Open the bloody door,” Acting Sergeant Charlie Chase shouted through the letterbox.

  “Ah’m coming, Ah’m coming,” The Stalker shouted, staunin up and scratching his arse as he heided fur the lobby and the ootside door.

  “Fur fuck’s sake, you look as rough as a badger’s arse,” Charlie said, walking past him and intae the kitchen, where he ran the cauld water tap.  

  He took doon a pint glass fae a shelf, filled it wae water, and then proceeded tae empty the contents ae the glass doon his gullet.

  “That’s some Adams apple ye’ve goat stuck in that throat ae yours,” The Stalker said, trying nae tae sound or look nervous.

  “Ye’re wanted doon at Central, as in noo, and no the morra or the next day.”

  “Fur whit?”

  “Ah don’t know.  Aw Ah dae know is that ye’ve tae get that spotty, itchy arse ae yers up and oot ae here and doon there pretty pronto.  Oh aye, before Ah furget, ye’ve tae take an overnight bag wae ye as well.”

  The Stalker felt his sphincter stretch.

  “Hing oan, Ah’ll need tae go and feed the cludgie its breakfast,” he said, casually sauntering past the acting sergeant.

  He broke intae a run wance he wis oot ae the kitchen and bolted alang the lobby and intae the toilet like a man possessed.

  “Ah widnae keep him waiting, Paddy,” the acting sergeant shouted through fae the kitchen.

  “Who?”

  “Daddy Jackson.”

    The Stalker sat oan wan ae the three hard-arsed chairs opposite the chief inspector’s office door.  He’d searched the face ae Peggy McAvoy, the wee blond thing wae the nice paps who used tae be the secretary fur Sean Smith, the auld chief inspector, before he put a revolver intae that gub ae his and pulled the trigger in the office, behind the door he wis sitting opposite.  Charlie hid telt him in the car that Peggy hid jist returned tae work two weeks earlier.  She’d been aff oan the sick since the suicide.  He’d also telt him that everywan wis still gaun aboot in a state ae fear, no knowing who wis gonnae be next oan the hit list.  He shifted aboot uncomfortably.  His bag wae a clean shirt, socks and a clean pair ae drawers wis sitting between his feet.  He didnae know if he wid be sitting in a cell up in the Bar-L jail that night, or if he’d be back hame in his ain bed.  When he’d asked Charlie Chase if he wis tae turn up in civvies or his uniform, he’d jist goat a blank stare and a shrug ae his shoulders in response.  He knew he wis being optimistic, bit he’d opted fur the uniform.  It hid felt strange when he’d looked in the mirror before grabbing his chequered cap and followed Charlie oot the door and doon the stairs tae the waiting squad car.

  “Whit aboot Fin?  His he been asked tae come tae?” he’d asked Charlie as they exited the closemooth.

  “Ah don’t know.  Ah wis jist telt tae bring yersel in,” Charlie hid answered, before gieing a wee boy a skelp oan the lug fur trying tae tear his number plates aff the front ae the car’s grill.

   The Stalker remembered the day he’d first met his pal and work colleague, Finbar O’Callaghan, also known as Bumper.  He smiled when he thought about Fin.  Every wee Ned in the Toonheid hid been shite scared ae him since he chased efter a couple ae them in his squad car oan his first day oan the job efter getting transferred up tae the Toonheid.  When Fin hid realised that they wur aboot tae evade getting caught, hivving ignored his shout fur them tae stoap, he’d ran o’er the tap ae them wae the squad car and then reversed back o’er their legs fur good measure.

  “The wee cretins will stoap the next time Ah tell them tae,” Fin hid said, matter ae factly tae Colin, who’d been their inspector at the time, while the wee basturts wur being carted intae the ambulance.

  Fin and himsel hid been the two sergeants in the Toonheid before the ceiling hid come crashing doon oan the tap ae them and every other bizzy who worked in the central and northern divisions ae the city, fae sergeant rank upwards.  He’d heard that they’d set up a special wing in the hospital up in the Bar-L tae hoose aw the sergeants and inspectors who’d been charged wae corruption.  It wis the only way the prison service could guarantee their safety.  It wis also well known that some ae those who’d been innocent hid been charged oan the word ae scumbags who’d wangled a deal tae get a shorter jail term themsels while wans that wur as guilty as sin, hid walked.  When Fin and himsel wur hauled in and suspended, they wur telt that they couldnae talk tae anywan associated wae the corruption scandal, including each other.  They’d spoken a few times, bit it hid been risky.  The roaches fae the local papers wur hivving a field day, turning up wae photos oan the front page ae poor suspended bizzies, huddled in cafes, trying tae support each other, while the papers claimed they wur plotting against the witnesses.  At the time they wur suspended, The Stalker hid wanted tae tell them tae stick their job up their arses, bit where wis he tae go?  Who wid employ him?  Anywan who jacked in the job efter being suspended wisnae tae get a reference.  They’d brought in a team ae country yokel bizzies fae Dumfries and Arbroath tae carry oot the independent investigation.  Although they didnae hiv too much experience in dealing wae big-time crooks, they wur seen as being reasonably honest and incorruptible.  Charlie hid telt him that the last ae them hid left the toon only a few days earlier, hivving concluded their initial investigation.  They’d haunded o’er the investigation tae the local Kaisers who wur left staunin.  He couldnae believe that Daddy Jackson hid goat the job ae filling the shoes ae Sean Smith as the new chief inspector fur the north ae the city.  It wis well known that he wis wan ae the biggest crooks that hid ever walked the corridors ae the City ae Glesga Polis Headquarters, being wan ae the original corrupt Irish Brigade inspectors that the papers loved tae rehash the story ae, every time there wisnae anything else worth reporting oan.

   Peggy McAvoy’s typewriter stoapped its machine-gun rat-a-tat-tatting suddenly.  The sudden silence interrupted his thought process.  He looked towards her desk.  She stood up and walked silently alang the corridor and stoapped at the door opposite him.  She knocked and opened it.

  “Sergeant McPhee, sir,” she said, before turning and motioning him forward.

  He heard the door close quietly behind him.  In front ae him, Daddy Jackson sat reading a report.  Oan either side ae Daddy, a couple ae the surviving members ae the Irish Brigade, Billy Liar and Big Pat Curry, sat looking at him, no saying a word.  He wanted tae take a run at them and unleash every form ae violence that he’d conjured up in that heid ae his o’er the past four months towards these three basturts, who wur responsible fur the corruption in the city’s polis force…and fur the fix that Bumper and himsel hid found themsels in.

  “Right, whit hiv we here then?  Paddy McPhee, polis sergeant, also known as The Stalker, oan account ae scurrying aboot the back closes ae the tenements, stalking his man.  And get him he dis, lads.  Twelve years in the force and never known tae hiv been caught wae that pussy finger ae his dipped in the honey pot.  Quite an achievement, Ah’d say, gieing the shite that’s been flying aboot here these past couple ae months, eh?” Daddy Jackson said tae the other two inspectors, looking up fae the file in front ae him.

  “No being known or no being caught?  Is there a difference?” Billy Fuck Face asked nowan in particular, brushing a speck ae imaginary dust aff ae his well-creased trooser leg.

   At the implied threat tae his honesty, The Stalker felt his auld sphincter stretch slightly, bit relaxed again, when a grin appeared oan Daddy Jackson’s coupon.

  “Right, we’re no gonnae fuck aboot here.  Hiv ye brought an overnight bag wae ye?”

    “Er, aye, sir.”

    “Right…well, we’ve goat a wee job fur ye.  It involves stalking, so ye should feel quite at hame.  Jack Tipple, The Assistant Chief Constable up the stairs goat a wee buzz earlier fae that wanker, Sir Frank Owen, o’er at The Glesga Echo.  The Assistant his informed me that there’s gonnae be a big heidline splashed in The Echo the morra morning, concerning the disappearance ae wan ae his rich pals’ daughter.  Noo, your job is tae go and find her.  It’s as easy as that.”

  “His there been a ransom demand?”

  “It’s a missing person investigation.”

  “So, where did she go missing fae?”

  “Up in the Highlands.  She’s The Duke ae Kyle’s only brat.  He happens tae be very well connected.  She’s only jist turned fifteen…the day, in fact.  Quite tasty looking as well,” Daddy said, looking doon intae the folder.

  “Whit’s wrang wae the Inverness boys tracking her doon?”

  “Because she’s awready shot the craw, believed tae be heiding this way.”

  “Ah still don’t see whit this his goat tae dae wae us doon here in Glesga,” The Stalker said, furgetting aboot how desperate he wis tae get back tae work and how only that morning he’d telt himsel he’d hiv cleaned shitey toilet pans wae his bare tongue doon in the cells,
jist tae be gied some polis work tae dae.

  “Look, here’s the situation and this his tae be kept between us.  That prick o’er at The Echo believes she’s only a runaway and he’s jist daeing a favour fur wan ae his rich Duke pals, by making oot there’s something untoward gaun oan, tae put pressure oan the bizzies tae get mair involved and tae put extra manpower intae this,” Pat Curry explained.

  “So?”

  “Well, we happen tae know that a wee pal ae yours is behind aw this and his kidnapped the wee bitch,” Billy Liar replied, wae a big grin splashed across that ugly coupon ae his.

  “Who?”

  “Paul McBride, wan ae they manky mob toe-rags fae the Toonheid,” Pat said, appreciating the shocked reaction fae The Stalker.

  “Paul McBride?  Bit Ah thought he wis sitting coo-cooing in some Cuckoo’s Nest?”

  “He wis until he appeared up in the Highlands.  The basturt managed tae talk his way oot ae the funny farm.  Ah must admit, ye’ve goat tae feel sorry fur any poor basturts who hivnae goat a clue aboot hivving somewan like McBride living in their midst, eh?  Anyway, he jist couldnae contain himsel.  The lassie went missing this morning at the same time as he went AWOL.  Tell me that’s jist a coincidence, eh?” Daddy said, a big grin appearing across that wrinkled coupon ae his.

  “So, when did he get officially released and why the hell wur we no informed?”

  “The answer tae yer first question is that as ae the day, he’s a free bird.  He also turned fifteen the day.  We wurnae informed because his supervision wis transferred across tae the health authorities…something aboot patient confidentiality and aw that shite.”

  “Fur Christ’s sake!” The Stalker cursed under his breath.

  “Noo, Poxy-faced Owen, o’er at The Echo, awready knows that a young toe-rag called Paul McBride moved intae the area where The Duke’s daughter lives.  He knows he’s fae Glesga.  In fact, he saw yer pal take oot a couple ae big sheep-shagging Highlanders at wan ae their local boxing matches when he wis up oan holiday.  He described yer pal doon tae a T.  He’s hinted tae The Assistant, that if it goat oot that a mad violent fucker fae Glesga hid actually kidnapped the lassie, efter the Highland boys hid it doon as jist another runaway, then we’d be in a good position tae earn some well-deserved brownie points aboot here…if ye know what Ah mean?” Daddy said slyly.

  “Bit the chances ur he did bloody kidnap the lassie,” The Stalker exclaimed, no too sure if he’d missed something.

  “Of course he did.  We’re no that daft, ye know.  The Assistant decided no tae let oan tae Sir Frank though.  We kin let oan later that we’ve found oot mair aboot yer pal as the case progresses.  It’ll help showcase oor detective work.  That’s why we’ve brought you in.  That, and the fact that hauf ae the good senior investigators ur supping watery porridge up in the Bar-L and the other hauf are still caught up in the investigation ae the two young lassies that wur found behind the plasterboard in a couple ae tenements up in your auld patch,” Billy said.

  “Should we no be putting oot a national alert across Scotland?  And whit aboot the rest ae The Mankys?  Where ur they in aw this?” The Stalker asked.

  “So far, we’ve been able tae establish that Johnboy Taylor is still in Oakbank Approved School, up in Aberdeen and Samuel Smith, the mute that disnae talk, is still in Thistle Park, oot in Paisley.  Tony Gucci and Joe McManus wur released fae the closed block up in Rossie Farm Approved School within a week ae each other jist o’er two weeks ago.  We’re checking up oan their whereaboots as we speak.”

  “Fucking hell!” The Stalker exclaimed, no being able tae contain himsel.

  “Gucci wis clocked and then confronted by Biscuit Smith jist o’er a week ago in the toon centre.  They exchanged a few pleasantries wae each other, bit Gucci hid disappeared by the time Biscuit managed tae get a squad car doon tae gie him a haun.  He says the Tally prick wis as cocky as ever.  He telt Biscuit tae fuck aff and leave him alane as he wis trying tae go straight,” Pat said, laughing.

  “Ur ye saying that Gucci and McManus hiv disappeared?”

  “Look Paddy, we need tae get in there first…be wan step aheid ae the pack.  This could dae us…and yersel…a lot ae good,” Daddy reminded him, looking at him evenly and ignoring his question.

  He received the message loud and clear.

  “Right, Paddy, ye hivnae much time. That train ae yours leaves fur Inverness fae Queen Street station in exactly nine minutes.  Ye better get yer skates oan.  Wan ae the local chookter pavement pounders up north will meet ye at the station.  His name’s McTavish, wid ye believe?”  Pat said smiling, looking at his watch.