The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter (49 page)

Chapter Seventy Six

  “Fuck’s sake, it’s the cat wae nineteen lives.  Ur ye no deid yet, ya wanker, ye?”  Chic Shand asked, looking disappointed as Paul entered Greasy Jake’s office.

  “How’s that dug ae mine, Jake?”  Paul asked, as Wan-eye sauntered across and started making a big fuss ae Paul.

  “Fucking stoating dug that.  Ye should see the tricks Ah’ve taught him since ye’ve been away.  He’s a bloody genius, so he is,” Greasy Jake replied, in wonderment.

  “Aw, ye’ve put a chain choker oan him, Jake.  Thanks,” Paul said, delighted.

  “Ye cannae hiv that wee dug running aboot wae a bloody bit ae rope tied roond his neck, ya eejit, ye.  He’s too classy and intelligent fur that.  Here, take this as well,” Jake said, throwing a chain leash across tae Paul.

  “Fuck, Ah’ve seen it aw noo.  Jake and his wan-eyed dug fucks aff and joins the circus.  Ma auld granny’s goldfish kin dae better tricks than that wan-eyed mongrel,” Chic scoffed.

  “Ah thought ye goat me tae bury that auld bat in the back ae an auld Morris Six MS tae get her hoose aff ae her,” Jake said tae
Chic.

  “Naw, naw, that wis ma other granny, ya eejit, ye. Ye’re thinking ae the wan that kept shitting her drawers aw the time and refused tae go tae the doctor tae see whit the fuck the matter wis wae her.   And you, ya dafty, here’s the keys fur a white Ford Cortina Mk Two that’s sitting beside the office, jist as ye go intae the car park at the bottom ae Montrose Street.  When ye put it back, it better be in wan piece or it won’t be The Big Man that ye should worry aboot,” Chic growled, throwing o’er the keys.

  “Whit aboot ma plates?

  “They’re wrapped up in that broon paper.”

  “Dae ye want tae sell me the dug, Paul?”

  “Sorry, Jake, he’s apprenticed tae a poacher and he’s still goat a lot ae training aheid ae him,” Paul said, heiding oot ae Jake’s office tae face the two Alsatian guard dugs who let rip when they spotted Wan-eye leaving. 

Chapter Seventy Seven

  “What now?” The Highland Fox asked The Stalker, as they drove away fae the railway station in Stirling.

  “Ah’ve spoken tae ma boss and he reckons the trail his gone cauld.  Ah smell a rat, so Ah dae.  Let’s heid intae Glesga and see whit the score is there.  We’re no gonnae get anything aboot here.”

  “You don’t think we should head back to Loch Lomond?”

  “Naw, we’ll probably never be able tae prove it, bit Ah bet ye that yer pal, McBride, hid something tae dae wae this wild goose chase.”

   “What about his friends?”

  “There’s nothing coming through fae Aberdeen.  They wankers widnae know a stolen car if it ran o’er the tap ae them.  Naw, Ah think oor Paul is in the city awready, laughing at us aw making an arse ae oorsels.”

  “And what about myself?  Should I just head back up north?”

  “Ye kin drap me aff in the toon and heid oan yer way, or ye kin stay o’er and heid back up first thing the morra.  It’s up tae yersel, Swein.  If ye decide tae stay, Ah’ll gie ye a tour ae the city.  Jist because we hivnae come across McBride and the lassie, disnae mean tae say the boys in the city will gie up looking fur her.  Wan thing’s fur sure, though...if she’s in the city, then Pat Molloy will be turning the place upside doon, trying tae get his hauns oan her.”

  “I’ll take you into the city and I’ll decide then if I’ll stay the night or head back up north,” The Highland Fox said, as The Stalker telt him tae turn right at the next junction.

Chapter Seventy Eight

“Pat, ye don’t believe that fucking lying weasel, dae ye?” Shaun Murphy asked The Big Man, as Danny Murphy, Peter The Plant and The Goat entered the Club.

  “McBride?  Dae Ah look like a fanny?”

  “Christ, fur a minute there, Ah thought ye wur jist gonnae let that fly basturt saunter aff withoot spilling the beans oan where the lassie is.”

  “Right, whit’s the score, boys?”

  “Nothing.  The bizzies surrounded a Landy and dragged two terrified passengers oot oan tae the street.  The bizzies wur aw ermed tae the teeth wae shooters.  Danny thinks the wummin in the car wis sucking the salty sausage,” The Plant said.

  “Danny?” The Big Man asked him.

  “Well, we wur a good bit away bit Ah swear Ah could see a heid bobbing up and doon like a fucking yoyo,” Danny replied.

  “Naw, no that, ya fucking eejit.  Ah meant, whit dae ye think the score wis oot in Stirling?”

  “Me?  Ah thought it wis a total set-up fae start tae finish.”

  “How come?”

  “It wis obvious the bizzies didnae know where tae look.  When we goat there, they wur driving roond in circles, then aw ae a sudden, they aw tanked alang the road and turned aff doon near the shore.  The fact that they goat the wrang wans says it aw.  Whit dae ye think, Peter?”

  “Ah hope they didnae pay whoever gied them the information because it wis red rotten, so it wis.  Ah’d be demanding ma money back, wae interest.”

  “Whit’s yer thoughts, Pat?” Shaun asked his boss.

  “Whit dae Ah think?  Ah think she’s awready in the toon and we need tae step up a gear.  Ah think oor Paul wanted the car tae shift her somewhere.  That’s why Ah wis happy tae oblige.  The car is the answer.  That white Mk Two will staun oot a mile up in they hoosing schemes.  Ah want everywan tae put the word oot that if they see a white Cortina anywhere up in the Garngad, Balornock, Burmulloch, Possil, Springburn or Milton, Ah want tae know aboot it.  Ah don’t fucking care who gies me the information, as long as Ah get it.  Get the number fae the plates ae the Cortina fae Greasy Jake and spread them aboot.  Ah want youse tae get as many ae the boys oot oan the street tae track doon Gucci, McManus, Taylor and that wee dopey wan they call Silent…no forgetting Paul McBride.  Tell the boys no tae take any shite fae anywan.  Any trouble and youse hiv goat the go-aheid tae crack a few skulls.  Ah want that lassie the night.”

  “Whit if we come across her wae the toe-rags?” Shaun asked.

  “Fuck them.  Ye heard me wanting tae negotiate and it wis thrown back in ma coupon.  Naw, as soon as ye get word ae where she is, get in there, mob-haunded, and take her aff ae them.  That’ll teach they cheeky wee fuckers no tae mess me aboot.  Hiv youse aw goat that?”

  “Whit aboot Wan-bob?  He’s still across at the train station in Queen Street.  Dae ye want me tae gie him a shout?” Danny asked.

  “Naw, leave him there, jist in case Gucci his the brass neck tae walk aff a train wae her.  Wan-bob phoned across tae say that he spotted McBride in the station earlier.  He wis wanting tae know whit he should dae aboot it.  He wisnae aware that McBride hid jist left the club earlier,” The Big Man replied.

  “Whit?  McBride his awready been here and gone?  Whit’s the score wae the rich bitch then?” The Plant asked, looking fae The Big Man tae Shaun, wae a puzzled expression oan his coupon.

  “Look, we don’t hiv time tae fuck aboot.  Shaun will explain whit the score is oan route.  Remember whit Ah said...take nae cheek and nae fucking prisoners either.”

Chapter Seventy Nine

Tuesday Night

“Tell Pat whit ye’ve jist telt me, Wan-bob,” Shaun Murphy said, looking aw excited.

  “Remember Ah phoned ye earlier the day and telt ye that Ah spotted Paul McBride?”

  “Aye,” The Big Man replied.

  “Well, Ah think Ah might’ve picked up a wee light at the end ae the tunnel, as they say in railway parlance.  Whit Ah didnae tell ye at the time, is that Ah clocked
McBride gieing an envelope tae wan ae the porters at the goods section in the station.”

  “Aye, we gied him the envelope.  It hid three hunner in it fur a Series Two Landy he sold us.  Whit aboot it?”

  “Well, Ah didnae know it at the time, bit the guy he gied the envelope tae is his brother-in-law, Jimmy McGowan.  Ah thought Ah recognised the useless basturt, bit ye know whit it’s like when they’re wearing they stupid wee hats,” Wan-bob said.

  “And?”

  “It’s took me a wee while, bit Ah managed tae find oot where the prick lives.  He’s married tae McBride’s sister, Kathleen.  Nice bit ae stuff in her time, until she started pinging oot snappers.  Fuck knows whit she sees in that useless prick.  Anyhow, they live up in Springburn.” 

  “And ye think The Duke’s daughter might be up there?  Surely the bizzies wid’ve turned them o’er alang wae the maw and da, if they’re no sitting ootside the hoose this very minute,” The Big Man said doubtfully.

  “Aye, well that’s the beauty ae it, Pat…they widnae know where tae look.  Kathleen McGowan and that useless man ae hers did a moonlight flit earlier in the year. Nowan wid know where they’d disappeared tae…especially the polis.  It’s taken me hauf the day tae track their address doon.  Ah managed tae drag wan ae the station managers intae the cludgie ae The Queens Bar efter he finished his shift.  He agreed tae go back in tae his work and get me the address.”

  “That wis good ae him,” Shaun acknowledged.

  “Aye, well, he knew he didnae hiv any choice, plus he goat a few quid intae the bargain.” 

  “So, where aboot in Springburn dis she live, Wan-bob?” The Big Man asked, hope rising in his gut.

  “Three o two Keppochhill Road.  It’s the nearest close tae Carlisle Street.”

  “Carlisle Street?”

  “The street across fae the wee bridge that takes ye o’er tae Sighthill.”

  “The wan wae the bowling green in it?”

  “Aye,” Shaun and Wan-bob replied.

  “Fuck! So, that’s where he’s dumped her, the fly basturt.  Whit time is it?” The Big Man asked Shaun.

  “Hauf eight,” Wan-bob replied, looking at his wristwatch.

  “Right, go and get a couple ae cars.  Let’s pay Sister Kathleen a wee visit, eh?” The Big Man said, tightening up the knot oan his tie.

Kathleen hid jist put Jimmy Junior in the cot, efter gieing him his last steam session ae the night, when she looked at the clock.

  “Saba, ye better get yer skates oan…it’s quarter tae nine.  Paul said ye couldnae be here any later than that or ye’ll miss the train.”

  “But where’s Paul?  Do you think something has happened to him?” Saba asked, concern in her voice.

  “Ah wish Ah knew.  Look, ye’ll hiv tae go…please,” Kathleen said, as the sound ae Jimmy Junior’s breathing quietened down tae a barely audible snore fae behind the curtain.

  “Should I not wait a few more minutes, Kathleen?  What happens if he arrives just after I’ve gone?”

  “If he dis, he’ll catch up wae ye.  Ah’m sure he’d want tae know that ye goat away okay.”

  “What number did you say the bus is?”

  “It’s number thirty two.  Ye kin see the bus stoap across the road fae the windae here.  Tell the conductor ye’re gaun tae the Central Train Station and that ye need tae get aff oan Union Street.  Paul said that ye’ll hiv tae sit oan the bottom deck ae the bus in the front row, well away fae the door.  Ye’ve no tae sit where people kin see yer face when they’re getting aff and oan the bus.”

  “Why?”

  “Saba, Ah hivnae goat a bloody clue.  Ye’ll jist hiv tae work it oot fur yersel, hen.  Who knows whit goes roond in that heid ae ma brother’s hauf the time.  If that’s whit he wants ye tae dae, then there’s probably some reason fur it.  Tae be oan the safe side, Ah’d dae whit he says.”

  “Oh, you better take this and give it to Paul.  This is the reason that we’re here in the first place,” Saba said, lifting an envelope oot ae her bag and haunin it tae Kathleen.

  “Whit is it?”

  “It’s the money that Paul got for selling Mr McKay...Innes’s boat.  There’s five hundred pounds there.  Give him this as well. He’ll need it to fix a horse’s hoof with someday,” Saba replied, gieing Kathleen the small red-haundled penknife.

  “Christ, five hunner quid?  Ah’ve never seen or held that much money in aw ma life.  Ye could buy a room and kitchen oan that in the toon, so ye could,” Kathleen gasped, weighing the envelope in her haun.

  Saba leaned across and gied Kathleen a hug.

  “Kathleen, thank you.  Thank you for all you’ve done to assist me.  I’ll never forget your warmth and kindness.  I hope Jimmy Junior gets better.  When I get to New York, I’ll send Junior and Heather some American toys that will make them the envy of all their little friends,” Saba said, picking up her bag and radio and walking tae the door.

  “Ah’ll come wae ye across tae the bus stoap, Saba.  Hing oan and Ah’ll get ma cardigan.”

  “No, I’ll manage.  You stay here with the children, although I would appreciate it if you keep an eye on me from the window until the bus arrives.”

  “Only if ye’ll dae me wan mair favour?” Kathleen asked her.

  “What?”

  “Whit’s a strath?” Kathleen asked laughing.

  “A strath?”

  “Aye, ye mentioned it earlier.  Ah didnae really know ye then, so Ah didnae want tae sound like a thicko by asking ye whit a strath wis.”

  “A strath is a valley or a glen.  Where Paul was staying, on the croft, and the castle I live in is up a valley or a glen.  Got it?” Saba replied, smiling.

  “Oh, Ah see…right…goat ye.  That makes sense tae me noo.”

  “Right, can I ask you something?”

  “Of course, ye kin,” Kathleen replied.

  “I was a bit shy earlier and I didn’t want to sound stupid by asking you what a meter is.”

  “A meter?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s a meter up there,” Kathleen said, nodding at the coin gas meter box sitting oan a shelf above the kitchen door.

  “How does it work?”

  “The meter operates the flow ae gas.  Tae keep the gas coming intae the hoose, ye need tae put a bob intae it.  The mair ye put in, the longer the gas valve will stay open and allow ye access tae hot water and gas fur cooking. Goat it?”

  “Oh, I see…right…got it.  That makes sense to me now.”

  “God, we’re like a couple ae thickos staunin here mimicking each other,” Kathleen said, laughing.

  “Right, I’m off.  I’ll send you a card to let you know that I made it home to New York.  Goodbye, Kathleen.”

  “Cheerio, Saba…take care ae yersel, hen.”

  Kathleen went through tae the living room and picked up the cups fae the coffee table and placed them in the sink in the kitchen.  She went back intae the living room and clocked Saba staunin at the bus stoap across the road.  She jumped when she heard a heavy, persistent thump oan her front door.  Jimmy wisnae due tae finish his shift until ten o’clock, and anyway, he’d his ain key tae let himsel in.  She walked through tae the lobby and opened the door.  Pat Molloy, followed by the two Murphy brothers, Shaun and Danny and Wan-bob Broon, barged passed her.  Molloy and Broon went intae her living room while the two brothers turned right intae her kitchen.

  “Whit’s gaun oan here, Pat?” she demanded.

  “Where is she?” The Big Man asked her.

  “Who?”

  “Don’t start, Kathleen…ye know who Ah’m oan aboot.  Where the fuck is The Duke’s daughter that yer brother hijacked oot ae a castle up in the Highlands?”

  “Ye mean a strath,” Kathleen replied, as the tap deck ae a bus, hauf full ae people, puffing oan their fags, appeared through Kathleen’s windae and stoapped at the bus stoap across the road, departing a few seconds later.

  Kathleen glanced oot ae the windae.  The bus stoap wis empty.

  “A whit?” The Big Man asked, as Kathleen smiled.

  Paul looked at the clock oan the dashboard and cursed under his breath.  It hid taken him at least hauf an hour tae find somewhere suitable in the toon centre tae hide the Landy’s number plates earlier.  He checked the clock again when he stoapped behind a bus at a set ae traffic lights.  It wis twenty past nine and he wis oan Great Western Road, oot in Anniesland, and Saba’s train wis due tae leave Central Station bang oan ten o’clock.  Jimmy hid telt him when him and Saba hid arrived at Keppochhill Road that the London trains run like clockwork, something aboot nae wanting tae break some poxy record fur being oan time.  He hid tae watch his speed as he’d be fucked if he goat stoapped by the bizzies.  The car wis obviously stolen, even though the number plates wid’ve come aff a replacement Cortina Mk Two that hid ended its days under Jake’s crusher, doon at the scrappy in the Broomielaw.  It hid been good tae get a change ae wheels fae the tank he’d been driving the past couple ae days.  He thought aboot Morven and Saba.  Three months earlier, he hidnae known that they’d even existed.  He smiled and turned the radio up when ‘Good Vibrations’ started up.

  “Fuck this,” he said oot loud.

  He drapped a gear, and hit the accelerator.  He felt the twin cam straight four engine burst intae life as he shot past the bus.  He went through three red lights before turning right doon Byres Road.  At the bottom, he turned left and heided past the Art Gallery and the Kelvin Halls towards St George’s Cross, where he nipped doon tae the right, jist before he hit Sauchiehall Street in the toon centre.  He managed tae park the Cortina in
Waterloo
Street across fae the station.  He ran doon tae the corner entrance at the Argyle Street and Hope Street entrance.  When he goat up the stairs, there wis only wan train sitting oan the platform, steam oozing oot fae between the engine wheels.  He swithered whether tae go and buy a platform ticket, bit decided that time wis against him.  He climbed o’er the black painted ornate metal fence and heided across the tracks.  He trotted alang the track that wis parallel wae Saba’s train until he wis level wae the engine near the platform entrance gate.  He crawled between the engine and the first carriage that wis hooked up oan tae it.  He scrambled up oan tae the platform and started tae walk
back alang the platform, away fae the ticket collectors, who wur checking people’s tickets.  He noticed that the first hauf dozen carriages wur sleepers.  Wance he made it tae the seated, passenger wans, he started looking in through the windaes.  Some people ignored him while others jist stared back.  A few weans stuck oot their tongues at him.  He quickened his pace.  He knew the train must be jist aboot tae leave the station at any minute.  He wanted tae say cheerio, plus he hid tae know that she’d made it oan tae the train safely.  He could see people wur still milling aboot oan the train and stacking cases up oan tae racks. Paul reckoned that there must’ve been aboot twenty carriages wae seating and wis dismayed tae find himsel at the last wan, no hivving spotted The Gardener’s Daughter.

  “Shit!” he cursed, entering the first carriage.

  He made his way back alang towards the engine, only this time he wis inside the train itsel.  He stoapped at every carriage, searching the faces.  He felt panic taking a haud ae him by the time he reached the first sleeper carriage and a guard telt him he couldnae go any further.  He jumped aff the train oan tae the platform and looked doon towards the ticket collectors at the gates.  A few panic-stricken looking stragglers wur rushing forward, dragging cases behind them, through the station, tae the platform gate fae the front entrance oan Gordon Street.  Paul looked aboot bewildered.

  “Christ, Saba, where the fuck ur ye?” he groaned oot loud, in frustration.

  Swein McTavish hid made up his mind that he wis gaun tae drive back up north, bit fate hid intervened when the Ross and Sutherland Constabulary Land Rover he wis driving started tae play up.  It kept losing power when he wis trying tae get mair torque oot ae it.  By the time him and The Stalker reached Central Polis HQ in the Saltmarket, he wis driving it in third gear.

  “Ah widnae worry, Swein, oor mechanics will soon hiv it gaun.  In fact, Ah’ll get the boys tae soup it up a bit while they’re at it.  Ye’ll be flying up that road like a banshee wance they’ve finished wae it, so ye will,” The Stalker hid said.

  He’d telephoned Inspector Cotter tae let him know whit his movements wur.

  “Any word of what’s happened to the other Glesgie boys?”  he’d asked Cotter.

  “No.  There’s been no
reports of any cars stolen in the Aberdeen area.  The only one that’s been reported north of Perth was a blue Ford Escort in Inverness in the early hours of yesterday morning.  We heard about the farce in Stirling.  What’s your take on it, Swein?”

  “It’s hard to say, sir.  Sergeant McPhee thinks it was a red herring to throw us off the scent from the west of the city.  He thinks McBride was involved, although I don’t know how he would have been able to engineer the situation.  I’ve heard that the tip-off came from one of the big newspapers down here, The Glesgie Echo.  It’s funny, at the Ardgay Gala and Highland Games in June, Sir Frank Owen, the owner of the paper was up staying with The Duke of Kyle as his guest.  I would imagine he would be keeping The Duke abreast of the situation.”