The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter (41 page)

Chapter Sixty Three

  “Pat, quick, it’s oan the news,” Peter The Plant shouted across tae The Big Man, who jumped up aff ae that arse ae his, through the cloud ae cigar smoke, and hauf ran across tae the telly in the corner, as The Plant wis turning up the volume.

“The news of the disappearance of The Duke of Kyle’s fifteen year old daughter, Lady Saba MacDonald, took a new twist today, after it became headline news on the front page of The Glasgow Echo.  According to unofficial police sources, it has been suggested that Lady Saba may have been kidnapped by a group of young thugs from Glasgow.  It’s been suggested that one of the boys, who we understand are all aged about fifteen, had come to work in the Strath Oykel valley in the Highlands earlier in the year.  It has been suggested that this young thug somehow befriended Lady Saba and took advantage of her innocence to lure her away to a lonely spot where the gang were waiting to abduct her.  As you can see from where I am speaking now, apart from the beautiful castle, the area is fairly remote.  Earlier this morning, journalists were allowed into the castle to record a statement from The Duke and Duchess of Kyle, who made a plea to whoever may know the whereabouts of their daughter, to get in touch with the nearest police station.”

  The Big Man and The Plant stood listening tae the questions and answers fae The Duke and Duchess.

  “Check oot aw they paintings and that expensive fancy furniture.  They must be rolling in it,” The Plant observed.

  “Check oot the paps and legs oan the maw.  Her photos in the papers don’t dae her justice.  Ah’d gie her wan masel, so Ah wid,” The Big Man said.

  “Police sources have said that The City of Glasgow Police and Ross and Sutherland Constabulary have joined forces to track Lady Saba down.  Both forces have put their best men on the case.  In Ross and Sutherland, local man, Sergeant Swein McTavish, known throughout the highlands as The Highland Fox, is lead investigating officer for the force, and he, along with Sergeant Paddy McPhee, known as The Stalker amongst his colleagues and the criminal fraternity in Glasgow, are hot on the trail of the suspects.  Both officers are renowned for always getting their man.  The big question up here in the Highlands this lunchtime is, who will get to Lady Saba first?  This is John Turney, BBC news, Ardgay, in the Highlands of Scotland.”

  “The Highland Fox?  The Stalker?  It’s like something oot ae a fucking Batman film, so it is.  There’s nae way that pair ae eejits, whitever they’re called, will ever catch up wae they wee arse-bandits,” The Big Man scoffed, plapping his arse back doon oan his seat and reaching across fur his Racing News.

  “Hello, Billy?” The Stalker said intae the moothpiece.

  “Aye, Paddy, where ur ye?”

  “We’re in Fort William.  Ah’ve jist caught the news oan the telly in the hotel where Ah’m phoning ye fae.  Whit the hell’s aw this Highland Fox shite?”

  “Ach, don’t worry aboot aw that.  That’s Big Hamish up in the Highlands trying tae get in oan the act because he knows he fucked up.  Daddy’s in his element.  This story his knocked the heidlines aboot the lassies that’ve been found plastered up in the walls in the cupboards aff the front pages.  Bob Mackerel, the new Superintendent in charge ae the murder squad boys his sent him o’er a wee bottle ae single malt.  The poor basturt’s been under siege since they found the third wan last week.”

  “How long hiv they been there?  Dae we know?”

  “They reckon the second wan that wis found wis done in in the late forties or early fifties and the first wan wis mid-fifties.  They’re still working oan this recent wan.”

  “And whit’s the news aboot The Duke’s Daughter?  They mentioned McBride’s pals, Gucci and McManus oan the news.”

  “Aye, well, we wur right aboot they manky toe-rags being involved.  A brand new black Ford Cortina, belonging tae wan ae they poncie lecturers at Strathclyde University, wis blagged fae the multi-storey car park in Montrose Street last Friday efternoon.  They found it in Stonehaven last night.”

  “So?”

  “So, yesterday morning, when the teachers in Oakbank Approved School in Aberdeen went tae get the boys oot ae their wanking pits, they discovered that Johnboy Taylor wis missing.  He’d disappeared oot through a windae in the middle ae the night. These basturts never learn.”

  “Jeesusss!  So they’re definitely involved.”

  “Daddy his been ranting aboot they Aberdeen pricks every time he hears corned beef sandwiches mentioned in the canteen.”

  “So, why did it take them so long tae let us know?”

  “Because, efter we sent up word tae the Aberdeen HQ tae check oot that Taylor wis still in the school, they stupid basturts took their time and when they did get aff their arses tae find oot, it wis too late.  We knew Gucci and McManus wurnae in Glesga.  We’ve turned the place upside doon and we couldnae find anywan who’d seen them since the lassie disappeared.”

  “So, they’ve nicked a car, heided up tae Stonehaven, dumped it, and probably blagged another wan tae take them intae Aberdeen tae get Taylor oot?”

  “Aw in the early hours ae the morning, which happens tae be the same early hours that oor wee princess disappeared wae Paul McBride.  Christ, that’s some co-incidence, that is, eh?  Mind you, there wisnae any prints left in the Cortina tae say that it wis them,” Billy grumbled, sounding disappointed.

  “Ma gut feeling is McBride his still heided doon the west coast.  Masel and that Highland Fox wan hivnae picked up anything, so far, bit Ah jist know in they guts ae mine that that’s the route he wid’ve taken…it makes total sense, so it dis,” The Stalker said, trying nae tae sound doubtful.

  “We’ve alerted the Stonehaven and Arbroath bizzies, who ur
oot and aboot.  They don’t hiv a lot ae car thefts up there, so if wan’s gone missing, they should get tae know pretty quickly.  The Mankys hiv either blagged a car fae Stonehaven itsel or they’ve lifted wan fae Arbroath and wan ae them his followed the other car up tae Stonehaven before dumping the Cortina.  Wance we get the call, we’ll get the new car description put oot, alang wae the number plates.  Daddy says you and the chookter hiv tae stay oan the trail ae McBride and the lassie at your end.  We’ll concentrate oan Gucci, McManus and Taylor.  We’ve circulated their descriptions across Scotland.  They shouldnae be too hard tae spot.  Taylor is a skinheid noo.  Ah widnae think there’d be too many like him wandering aboot the Highlands in cherry red Doc Martens, wae braces haudin up his Levis.  Daddy thinks they’ll try and hook up wae McBride jist ootside Glesga somewhere, before heiding intae the city, so we’ll concentrate oor manpower oan the ootskirts and try tae cover the main routes intae the toon.  He’s confident we’ll get the basturts, jist so long as the boys in Stonehaven or Arbroath find oot whit car is missing.”

  “Whit’s the score wae McTavish noo that he’s a sergeant?”

  “Christ’s sake, use yer loaf, Paddy.  You tell that chookter that wance Paul McBride moves intae Central Scotland, we’re in charge.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Aye, and ye won’t like this wan.  The Big Man is oan the case.  He’s offered five hunner quid, oot oan the street, tae anywan that’ll lead him tae The Duke’s daughter.”

  “Five hunner quid?  Christ, ye could buy a hoose fur that kind ae money.  Ah bloody well knew this wid happen.  That’s whit happens when ye fuck aboot wae they newspaper people.  We should’ve kept McBride’s involvement in this quiet.  That Gucci wan will sell her oan.  If that happens, she’s fucked,” The Stalker shouted doon the line in frustration.

  “Keep yer baws in yer pants, Paddy.  We’ll deal wae Molloy at this end.  Aw you’ve goat tae dae is try and get a haud ae McBride before he reaches the city.  Another thing, make sure the chookter gets a badge and a set ae stripes fae wan ae the stations oan route.  That Hamish Ross, Cotter’s chief, is insisting that he wants stripes oan him before he gets intae Glesga.  Noo, if there’s nothing else, gie’s a shout aboot five o’clock and let me know whit’s happening.  Okay?”

  “Aye, fine.  We’re gonnae grab something tae eat before heiding doon through Crianlarach.”

  “Hello, Inspector Cotter?  Is that you?”

  “Speaking...Swein!  Good God, man. What the hell’s happening?”

  “I’ve just arrived in Fort William with Sergeant McPhee.  He’s away telephoning his superiors in Glesgie.”

  “Now, listen up, Swein, this is important.  Under no circumstances are you to return back up here until you find the girl.  Superintendent Ross is charging about like a rampaging bull.  He feels we’re being shafted by those Glesgie boys.”

  “How does he work that one out?”

  “They’ve been briefing the press.  The Duke and the Duchess have just been on the television, pleading for information on the whereabouts of their daughter.  The super has promoted you to sergeant to make sure this Glesgie oaf can’t pull rank.  Now, I can’t tell you how important this is, but you’ve got to use your initiative here.  You do not, I repeat, do not take orders from this so-called stalker one.  Do I make myself clear?  This is from the top.  It is a joint investigation between us and the city boys.  You answer to us and not them.”

  “I was wondering when I could come back home?”

  “Negative.  You have to see this through.  Keep your eyes and ears open and if there are any developments, you report back here first.  Have you got that?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The Glesgie boys believe that this young laddie has kidnapped Lady Saba.  What’s your take on it?”

  “I’m not sure about that.  She’s got a track record of trying to run away.  Everyone knows she can’t stand The Duke.  If anything, I suspect the lad is assisting her.”

  “We’ve just heard that there’s a group of youths, friends of McBride, who’ve assisted another of their accomplices to escape from an approved school in Aberdeen.  He was reported missing yesterday morning.  The Glesgie force seems to think they may be planning a rendezvous with McBride.  It seems too much of a coincidence.  You don’t think he’s taken her towards Aberdeen, do you?”

  “No, I think Sergeant McPhee is right in that he’s heading for Glesgie and has travelled down the west coast, avoiding Inverness and the A9.  I’m not sure about a connection with other Glesgie boys though.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Oh…er…it’s just a gut feeling,” McTavish replied, feeling his sphincter twitch, thinking aboot his encounter wae the wan-eyed pup in the middle ae the night.

  “Right, keep in touch.  The Super has instructed the Glesgie boys to provide you with a badge and new stripes.  Make sure you get them...and Swein?”

  “Aye, Inspector?”

  “Congratulations on your promotion.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

Chapter Sixty Four

  They hidnae spoken much tae each other since they’d hit the Mallaig road and stoapped at Neptune’s staircase oan the Caledonian Canal tae let Wan-eye oot fur a slash.  They’d sat there fur twenty minutes, watching the boats pass through.  When they’d reached Loch Eil, they’d debated whether tae double back alang the other side ae the Loch tae Strontian bit hid decided tae take the coastal route via Lochailort and Glenfinnan.  Saba hid been studying the map and hid then insisted that she wanted tae see the spot where Bonnie Prince Charlie hid landed oan the shores ae Scotland. In order tae try and avoid another run-in wae her, he’d reluctantly relented.

  “Dae ye no think aw this interest in history is a bit morbid?” Paul asked her as he found a place tae park that widnae block the traffic.

  “Morbid?  Why would it be morbid?  I read once that if you ignore the past, you’re bound to repeat it in the future,” she replied.

  “Aye, well, Ah don’t know aboot that.  It jist seems tae me like revisiting the scene ae the crime, which is pretty weird fae where Ah’m sitting.”

  “Paul, what are you going on about?”

  “You taking an interest in aw the crimes you and yer lot hiv committed in the past.  It’s bloody weird, so it is.”

  “Bonnie Prince Charlie landed at Glenfinnan over two hundred years ago.  The Battle of Culloden Moor was during the same period.  Everyone born in Scotland should know about that.”

  “Hiv ye been tae Culloden?”

  “Of course I have.  It’s part of our history.”

  “Who’s side did that family ae yours fight oan?”

  “What’s that got to do with anything?”

  “Jist tell me…whit side wur they oan?”

“My ancestors were there but they got involved in a dispute so didn’t bear arms.  They supported Bonnie Prince Charlie though.”

  “Whit, they went tae fight bit didnae?”

  “The MacDonalds traditionally fought on the right-hand side of the line in battle. Everyone knew that.  Lord George Murray denied them that position, so they refused to take part.”

  “Jesus, they’ve some reputation, aw they ancestors ae yers, hiven’t they?  First they turn up fur a fight and then fall oot wae everywan because they want tae be where everywan disnae want them tae be.”

  “It wasn’t like that.”

  “Whit?  They didnae go aff in the cream puff?”

  “Yes, but not in the stupid way you phrase it.  You make it sound as if they were like squabbling children.”

  “So, efter they decided that they didnae want tae play the game, they fucked aff back up tae the strath and kicked everywan aff their land because they preferred the company ae sheep.  His that family ae yers ever done anything decent or hiv youse jist been shitehooses aw yer days?”

  “In those days, privilege and honour meant everything.  The MacDonalds were entitled to fight on the right.”

  “Aye, ye’re right, Ah’m sorry, Ah didnae mean it tae sound as if Ah wis being oot ae order.  Let’s change the subject, eh?  So, when ye visit these places, is it tae gloat or tae think back wae guilt at aw that murder and betrayal?”

  “It’s neither.  It’s part of our history that happened over two hundred years ago.  What relevance has that got to do with today…me…now?”

  “Did ye no jist tell me that if ye ignore the past ye’re bound tae repeat it?”

  “Paul, why are you such an irritating oaf?”

  “Because Ah’m no as blind and deaf as you obviously ur…that why.   Ah clocked ye squirming when we hid the fish stew wae the gypsies.  If ye’d really listened tae whit they wur saying, ye wid’ve heard them say that whit happened back then, in the mists ae time, his plenty tae dae wae whit’s gaun oan the day.  It’s pretty obvious that they’re still suffering fae whit that family ae yers goat up tae back then, jist the same as Innes and Whitey and aw the other tenants in the strath ur the day.  The fact that ye still refuse tae acknowledge that and see the damage still being inflicted roond aboot ye, makes ye an accessory, as far as Ah’m concerned.”

  “You have such a warped mind.  I admit I was uncomfortable, especially when they mentioned my father.  I don’t believe he’s aware that poachers’ retreats are being used on the estate these days.  The estate is vast and covers a wide area.  He can’t be expected to know everything that’s going on.  When I get back, I can assure you I’ll be informing him and he’ll take it up with Mr Sellar.”

  “Ah’m right glad the Sellar boys ur no here tae hear ye say that,” Paul scoffed, laughing.  “They’d be shiting their pants at the thought ae yer da finding oot they hivnae been playing fair and square wae his tenants.”

  “Cynicism is the wit of fools.”

  “Aye and they say there’s nae honour amongst thieves.  Ah wonder if whoever came up wae that wan ever hid any dealings wae that family ae yours.”

  When they reached the monument, wae the Highlander staunin oan tap ae it, that Saba hid telt him represented aw the Highland Clans, they came across a group ae Canadians.  They wur aw dressed up tae the gunnels in shortbreid-tin tartan and kilts.  They sat a short distance fae the group, listening tae them telling each other which ae their ancestors did whit, tae who, and how they’d tae flee the country ae their birth efter Culloden.

  “Ah wonder whit they’d think if they knew that the ancestor ae wan ae the generals who stood back and watched them getting slaughtered wis sitting here, lugging intae their conversations, eh?” he asked Saba, who turned her face away, ignoring his comment.

  “Tell me, Paul…what about your victims?  I can’t say I’ve heard much repentance or soul-searching out of you since we’ve been on the road.  Where do you keep your guilt hidden these days?”

  “Ma conscience is clear.”

  “I’m sure it is,” she replied, before staunin up and heiding back tae the Landy wae Wan-eye in tow.

  Efter sitting in silence through Pipersburn, Glenuig and Strontian, Paul turned right and heided fur Lochaline.

  “Ah’ve a confession tae make,” he said aw ae a sudden.

  “Oh?” Saba replied, turning roond in her seat, putting wan fit up oan the dashboard and looking across at him wae wary interest.

  “Ye wur right…Ah’ve never hid a bird.”

  “A bird?  Oh, you mean a girlfriend?”

  “Aye, ye came oot wae a comment that Ah hidnae ever hid a girlfriend before.”

  “Did I?”

  “Ah suppose Morven could be classed as a bit ae a girlfriend, bit if ye wur tae take her oot ae the picture, then ye wur right.”

  “Why do you think that is then?” she asked, no too sure where this hid come fae and where it wis heiding.

  “Probably because Ah wis in the jail maist ae the time.  There wisnae any lassies aboot tae take a fancy tae.  The closest we ever goat tae a skirt wis the wans worn by they big hairy-arsed priests who wid’ve shagged a barber’s flair if they could’ve goat aff wae it.”

  “What about school?  No childhood sweethearts?”

  “Ah only went tae primary school.  We called it The Baby Rock, although it wis called Saint Rollox, efter the saint.  By the time Ah wis ready fur secondary school, Ah wis in the jail.”

  “What was your childhood like?”

  “It wis the same as everywan else’s in the area.”

  “That doesn’t tell me anything.  What did you do?  What were your friends like?  What types of games did you play?”

  “Ah started dogging school when Ah wis aboot six or seven.  Wance that started, Ah lost aw interest in school and whit went oan in it.”

  “What does dogging mean?”

  “It means Ah stoapped gaun.  When that ma and da ae mine found oot that Ah wis wandering aboot the streets, they’d march me back until the next time.”

  “What did you do when you weren’t in school?”

  “There wis a few ae us, aw in the same boat.  Ma best pals at the time wur Tony Gucci and Joe McManus…they still ur.  We aw hung aboot thegither.  We’d play up at the Nolly…that’s the canal, by the way…or go intae the toon centre and shoplift.  Ah loved it.  School wis nae competition efter running aboot wae that pair ae toe-rags, stealing everything in sight.  The three ae us ended up in remand homes wance we reached the age ae eight.”

  “They put you in a home for not attending school?”

  “Naw, we goat put in the home fur robbing everywan blind and breaking intae shoaps.”

  “What did your mother and father have to say about that?”

  “Ma da used tae tan that arse ae mine wae a leather belt, bit it never stoapped me.  Wance we goat a bit aulder, another Baby Rock minker joined us.  His name wis Skull Kelly.  He wis a nippy wee sweetie, so he wis...ye wid’ve liked him…naw, oan seconds thoughts, ye probably widnae hiv,” he said, as they baith smiled.  “He never fucked aboot.  He wis aboot two inches high, bit he could fight like a mad monkey, so he could.  Any lip fae anywan, big or wee, and he wis in there, hitting first and worrying aboot any comeback later.   Tony and Skull goat slung oot ae The Baby Rock.  Well, they goat slung oot aw the time, bit wan day, it wis fur good.  There wis nae way they were getting back in.  Anyway, none ae the other Catholic schools in the area wid take them oan, so they shipped them tae a Proddy school, doon in the Toonheid.”

  “What’s a Proddy?”

  “A blue nose…a Protestant.  Ah cannae remember if Tony awready knew him, bit aw ae a sudden, this wee Proddy, wae red hair, called Johnboy Taylor, arrived oan the scene.  Ah wisnae too sure ae him at first because he wisnae a fighter or anything like that.  He wis there the night Ah goat lifted fur scudding the bizzy o’er the napper.  It wis the first shoap he’d ever tanned.  Masel, Tony and Joe wur aw gaun fur the good swag like Ronson lighters and Johnboy said he wanted a box ae pencils fur school.  We aw laughed like geese at him.  Later oan, efter Skull hid disappeared aff the scene, another wee scallywag called Silent, oan account that he never said much…still disnae, joined oor wee band ae merry men.”

  “I thought you were put away for hitting the policeman?  How did you manage to still be involved with the other boys? ”

  “Technically, Ah wis, bit Ah wis oan the run a lot ae the time.  It wis while Ah wis inside that Skull goat killed.  He wis only ten at the time.  He wis the same age as Johnboy, while masel, Tony and Joe wur a couple ae year’s aulder than them.”

  “What happened to...Skull?”

  “While Ah wis in Larchgrove Remand Centre, waiting tae be shifted tae St Ninians Approved School, the boys…before Silent joined them…bought a dookit aff ae these brothers called the Murphys.  They wur aw
right-haun men ae a guy they call The Big Man, who wis the local gangster in the area.  They wur a bunch ae mean nasty basturts, so they wur.”

  “What’s a dookit?”

  “It’s a loft or a cabin where ye keep pigeons…or doos, as we call them.  In Glesga, ye hiv aw these doo men...guys who fly pigeons.  Anyway, the Murphys sold Tony, Joe, Skull and Johnboy a big free-staunin cabin that stood behind three big billboard signs at the tap ae Parly Road in the Toonheid.  It wis a bloody stoater, so it wis.  They hid tae rob everywan blind fur weeks tae raise the doon payment fur it.  Anyway, efter they bought it, they found oot that they’d been ripped aff.  The whole area wis aboot tae be demolished tae make way fur a motorway, alang wae the cabin, which wis bang in the middle ae the demolition site.  The Big Man bred special doos called Horsemen Thief Pouters wae the Murphys, up in the loft ae the hoose that the brothers lived in.  Tony and that crowd broke intae the loft, through the roof, and stole aw The Big Man’s good breeding doos and sold them tae raise the money tae pay back the Murphys fur the cabin.”

  “So, in effect, the Murphys were paid the money that was owed to them by the boys, out of the proceeds of their own pigeons, which the boys had stolen and sold on to someone else?”

  “Aye, something like that,” Paul replied, smiling.  “Anyway, they goat away wae it, bit there hid been a bit ae trouble between Skull’s da and the Murphys aboot ten years earlier.  They turned Skull’s da intae a cabbage, efter knocking fuck oot ae him.  Although Skull didnae know the full story aboot whit hid happened tae his da at the time, he wis always cheeky as fuck tae the Murphys.”

  “How old were the Murphys?” 

  “Adults. Even though he wis a young snapper, Skull wis an expert oan doos.  He knew aw the breeds and how tae make them better when they goat sick.  Anyway, wan ae the Murphys…a mad psycho called Mick…didnae believe they hidnae hid anything tae dae wae tanning their loft, so he goat a couple ae their sidekicks, two mean pricks called Tiny, who wis a midget, and Horsey John, the manager ae the local stables that The Big Man owned, tae burn the cabin doon.  Unfortunately fur Skull, he wis sleeping in it that night and goat burned tae death.  At the time, everywan thought it wis the bizzies that hid burnt it doon though.  Even The Big Man himsel believed that.”

  “So, how did you know it was one of the brothers?”

  “Right, don’t laugh, bit aboot three years later…early last year…Johnboy Taylor goat sentenced tae an approved school called Thistle Park, oot in Paisley.  When he arrived there, Tony Gucci, Joe McManus and Silent wur awready there, alangside other boys fae the Toonheid.  Johnboy telt them that when he wis doon in the cells, jist efter being sentenced, Skull arrived oan the scene in his cell and telt him who roasted him in the cabin.”