The Lost Boy and The Gardener's Daughter (50 page)

  “Do you still believe that the girl is somehow involved with this McBride laddie?”

   “Er, I do, sir.  I’m not sure her life is or has been in any danger…as long as she remains in the company of the boy.”

  “What about this Tall Man character?”

  “Tall Man, sir?”

  “The gangster.”

  “Oh, The Big Man?  Och, he’s supposed to be a bit of a Mr Nasty.  The word down here is that he’s got his henchmen out and about in the city, searching for Lady Saba.  If he does find her, she’ll be in a pickle.”

  “And the Glesgie bobbies, Swein?  What are they doing to try and resolve the situation?”

  “They’re also on her trail.  It’s all a bit confusing down here, plus I’ve just arrived and the Landy is playing up.”

  “Good, that means you’ve got an excuse to hang about down there, looking after our interests.  You’ve to stay down there until the girl is found.”

  “But, I, er…”

  “That comes from the very top, Swein.  I’ll speak to you tomorrow.  Give me a call if anything comes up before then.  Goodnight,” Cotter hid said, and hung up.

  Swein looked at his watch.  It wis nearly hauf past ten.  He yawned and stretched his erms above his heid.  He’d jist arrived back.  Sergeant McPhee hid gied him a tour ae the Toonheid.  He couldnae get o’er the size and smell ae the city.   He’d never seen so many buildings in his life.  He thought Inverness wis big, bit it wis nothing compared tae this.  He’d been driven aroond the city tae known hangouts where the local bobbies thought Paul might be.  The district they called the Toonheid wis like something oot ae a scene fae Dante’s Inferno…the wan wae the red haze aw through it, that hid starred Ralph Lewis.  The Reverend Macbean hid made aw the bairns in the Kyle sit through it in the church hall when Swein wis a Sunday School helper, before he’d joined the force.  Maist ae the bairns, including himsel, hid been traumatised and hid wet the bed fur years efterwards, he remembered smiling.  Hauf the buildings wur boarded up, waiting tae be demolished, while the other hauf that wur still occupied, looked sad and rundoon.  Everywhere he looked, there wur large empty spaces ae rough ground where a tenement hid probably stood the day before.  In the middle ae the patches, wur the dying embers ae the fires where the workmen hid been burning whit wisnae deemed valuable enough tae keep during the day.  Oan the edges, where aw the demolition machinery stood silently in rows, tae rest fur another night, night watchmen sat in the shadows in front ae wee, wan-man huts, facing their glowing red fire braziers and fighting tae stay awake, wae their bunnets pulled doon o’er their eyes.  The bairns, playing in amongst the rubble ae hauf demolished buildings, seemed happy and oblivious tae their surroundings, although a soapy bath, fur the majority ae them, wid probably hiv been a good investment.  When the weans hid spotted the squad car, slowly crawling alang wae whit wis left ae
the kerbs, as Sergeant McPhee pointed oot the scene ae some past incident or crime involving Paul and his friends, a lot ae the
bairns hid either rudely stuck up their two fingers and shouted obscenities or they’d turned oan their heels and ran.  Oan Kennedy Street, Sergeant McPhee hid stoapped two young boys who must’ve only been aboot ten years auld.  They wur absolutely filthy fae the tap ae their heids right doon tae their torn sandshoes
and looked as if they’d been cleaning sooty chimneys, bit the pram they wur pushing wis full ae lead sheeting, which Sergeant McPhee hid informed him hid probably come aff the roof ae wan ae the local tenement buildings.  When the boys hid spotted the uniforms, they’d disappeared up the closemooth ae a crumbling, rundoon tenement building.  He’d gied Sergeant McPhee a haun tae transfer the lead fae the pram tae the boot ae the squad car.      

  “That’ll help wae ma travel expenses,” he’d muttered tae Swein, shrugging they shoulders ae his, as he slammed the boot shut and they’d continued their tour.

  Swein hid come across real poverty in his time, travelling aboot some ae the mair rural parts ae his patch, bit nothing hid prepared him fur the scale ae whit he’d been confronted wae in Glesgie, or in the Toonheid in particular.

  “Swein, quick!  The basturt’s been spotted,” The Stalker shouted fae the canteen door, before his heid disappeared.

   The Highland Fox jist managed tae jump in the front passenger seat as The Stalker roared the powerful engine ae the squad car through the archway ae Central.

  “Charlie Five, this is Charlie Two, where ur ye?  Over,” The stalker barked intae the haunset as he sped across Glesga Cross.

  “He’s jist come across Castle Street and is heiding fur the wee bridge o’er intae Roystonhill, Charlie Five. Over.”

  “Is he oan his lonesome, Charlie Two? Over.”

  “Aye, apart fae a sheepdug.  Where ur ye, Paddy? Over.”

  “Ah’m hauf way up the High Street.  Over.”

  “Well, switch aff they blue lights if ye’ve goat them oan.  We’re gonnae try and nab him at the other side ae the bridge oan the corner ae Rhymer Street
and Earlston Avenue.  Jim McCabe is awready sitting doon by The Carlton picture hoose, waiting tae cut aff any retreat back the way he came.  You’ll probably clock him oan the way past.  Over.”

  The Stalker switched aff the blue light that hid been lighting up the High Street in circular waves ae blue light.  Swein caught the reflection ae the car as it sped by the windaes ae the shoaps and pubs, as The Stalker sped through a red light at Duke Street and then at the Provand Lordship’s hoose oan Castle Street, opposite the Cathedral.  He jist managed tae see a fleeting wave fae wan ae the occupants as they passed the squad car sitting wae its lights aff beside the picture hoose.  The poster ootside announced that The Atalian Job wis being shown inside.

  “Right, Swein, let’s go,” The Stalker shouted, exiting the car.

  They ambled alang the pavement in a crouch oan Earlston Avenue.  Swein could see the shadowy ootlines ae officers, lying in wait, at the far end ae the street, in a gap between the buildings.  He could also see officers, who wur staunin silently in a closemooth straight in front ae them. 

  The Stalker and Swein jist arrived at the scene when a shout went up.  Swein tilted his heid upwards and saw Paul let go ae the leash that held the dug and turn tae try and escape the way he’d come.  A sergeant, accompanied by two constables, appeared in front ae him, blocking Paul’s escape route.  Swein noticed that as Paul hesitated, the Stalker and another constable rugby-tackled him tae the ground.  The Highland Fox, still bent forward, grabbed the leash that wis trailing behind the pup that hid gone fur him in the early hours ae that morning.  Before he could pull the pup away, it sank its teeth intae the arse that hid been bobbing aboot in front ae it.

  “Arghhhh!” The Stalker screeched as The Highland Fox grappled wae the taut leash wae baith hauns and used it tae yank the dug backwards, hearing the sound ae cloth being ripped.

  “Arghhhh! That basturting thing’s fucking bit me…the basturt,” The Stalker howled again as McTavish tried tae calm the dug, which wis straining oan the leash, howling and barking.

  “Wan-eye!  No!” Paul shouted at the dug, as he wis dragged tae his feet.

  “Right, get him in the van, bit keep that fucking dug away fae me,” The Stalker snarled, limping badly, as he frog-marched Paul past The Highland Fox and Wan-eye, who stood there silently watching Paul being led away tae the waiting Black Maria polis van.  

Chapter Eighty

  It felt strange being back in the strath again, Paul thought tae himsel, as he walked past the big imposing gates ae Culrain Castle.  He wisnae too sure whit time ae day it wis.  He looked at the sky through the overhinging trees.  He’d managed tae catch the train at Queen Street Station at eight o’clock that morning and hid only hid tae wait aboot hauf an hour tae catch another wan in Inverness tae drap him aff in Culrain.  The past forty eight hours seemed like forty eight days tae him.  So much hid happened.  When he’d goat lifted by the bizzies, he’d been taken swiftly doon tae Central and locked up, well away fae the other prisoners in the building.  He’d been in and oot ae the place since he wis a snapper, so he knew whit that meant.  He hidnae hid long tae wait.  Four ae the basturts, including The Stalker, hidnae wasted time before paying him a visit.  As soon as his cell door wis flung open, they’d charged in mob-haunded.  Paul hid lifted up his leg, in an attempt tae defend himsel, bit it hid been like staunin in front ae a double decker bus.  They hidnae asked any questions tae start wae.  They’d jist begun tae saften him up by kicking and punching him aboot the cell until they’d knackered themsels oot.

  “Right, ya fucking tramp, ye, where the fuck is she?” The Stalker hid demanded twenty minutes later.

  “Who?”

  “The Duke’s daughter!”

  “Whit Duke’s daughter?” Paul hid thrown back at him, feigning innocence.

  That hid been that.  They either hidnae liked his answer or they’d goat their breath back.  They’d started oan him again.  It hidnae been as ferocious as the first time, bit hid been mair measured in that they’d taken aim when they’d let aff a right or left hook or kicked him in the ging-gang-goolies.

  “Ye better fucking tell us whit you and they pals ae yours hiv done tae her, ya fucking lump ae shite.  We’re no leaving this cell till ye dae, so we’re no,” a big ugly basturt hid snarled at Paul.

    Efter aboot a hauf an hour ae kicks and slaps, wae the odd punch thrown in fur good measure, they’d left him tae stew fur a while.

  “We’ll be back,” The Stalker hid threatened.

  “Ah’ve telt ye, Ah wis away looking fur a job, so Ah wis.  Ah never saw or touched any bloody Duke’s daughter,” he’d shouted at their backs as they slammed the cell door shut.

  They must’ve come back another three or four times in the night, demanding tae know where she wis, wanting tae know where the Landy wis, wanting tae know where the hell Tony Gucci and the rest ae The Mankys wur, before they’d dragged him oot ae his cell and bodily flung him alang the corridors tae the front desk, where that prick, Billy Liar wis waiting tae charge him.

  “Fuck’s sake, if it’s no the very wan that Ah said wid be back here again, the last time he stood there, and the time before that.”

  Paul hid looked at the inspector.  Billy Liar wis well-named, he remembered thinking tae himsel.  He’d fitted up mair guys in the toon than any tailor ever hid.  The jail wis full ae innocent guys that this basturt hid planted stuff oan.  Every time him and The Mankys hid goat caught and huckled doon tae Central, they’d aw prayed that Billy Liar widnae be staunin at the desk wae the charge sheet.

  “Ah’m totally innocent.  Ma only crime is trying tae go straight, looking fur a job,” Paul hid hissed through sore teeth.

  “Aye, and ma maw’s Cinderella, so she is.  Read oot the charges, Sergeant McPhee.”

  “That oan the early hours ae Monday the seventh ae July nineteen sixty nine, you, Paul McBride, aged fifteen, temporarily residing at Wester Achnahanat Croft, Ardgay, Ross-shire, wae the aid ae others, still tae be apprehended, did forcibly kidnap and remove against her will, Lady Saba Blair MacDonald, age fifteen, the only child and daughter ae The Duke and Duchess ae Kyle, fae her family hame ae Culrain Castle, Culrain, Ross-shire.  Anything ye say will be taken doon and may be held against ye in a court ae law,” The Stalker hid droned.

  “Hiv ye anything tae say, McBride?  If ye tell us where she is, it’ll go good against ye when ye’re up in court,” the lying prick hid asked him.

  “Aye?”

  “Whit?”

  “When will Ah get tae speak tae ma lawyer, Graham Portoy, or hiv ye jist furgotten tae tell me ma rights?” Paul hid spat at them.

  The second journey up tae the desk hid been a bit mair civil than the first time.  He’d only been hauf dragged and slapped aw the way.  Paul felt his eyes fill up wae tears as he thought aboot it.  He left the road and went across and sat oan a wee dyke and looked across the Kyle.  The pain and hurt he wis feeling wis beyond anything he’d suffered at the hauns ae the bizzies.  He found it difficult tae stoap snivelling.  He wiped the running snotters away fae his nose.  That second trip tae the front desk hid also been the first time that he’d clocked Swein McTavish since the morning ootside the hotel, in Lochcarron, a million years ago.

  “Right, ya cheeky insolent piece ae shit, ye.  Fuck knows how ye’ve wangled it, bit The Duke’s daughter his turned up, safe and sound,” Billy Liar hid announced tae him, looking as sick as a hinging judge wae a not-guilty verdict oan his hauns. 

  Paul looked aboot at the uniformed faces, staunin in a semi-circle roond the desk.  They aw hid a pale green, sickly look oan they coupons ae theirs.

  “So, Ah’m free tae go, am Ah?” Paul demanded, a wee smirk appearing oan that kisser ae his.

  “Ah never said that.  Naw, ye’ll hiv tae answer tae the charge ae assaulting Sergeant McPhee when he arrested ye.”

  “Ah never laid a finger oan him,” Paul howled, that smile ae his being replaced by the smiles ae aw the uniforms staunin roond aboot him, except fur Swein McTavish.

  “Listen, ye wur seen tae strike Sergeant McPhee when he confronted ye, oan the wee bridge up at Earlston Avenue.  We’ve goat witnesses, so we hiv.  Is that no right, boys?”

  “Aye,” a chorus ae lying tadgers aw sang at wance…apart fae wan dissenter.

  “I never saw the boy strike Sergeant McPhee and I was right behind him at the time of the arrest,” The Highland Fox hid said, as aw the grins ae the bizzies froze.

  “Er, kin Ah speak tae ye a minute, Swein?” Billy Liar hid asked, walking across tae the other side ae the reception wae his haun oan the shoulder ae the Highland’s finest.

  Paul hidnae known whit wis being said, bit it didnae sound as if it wis a polite conversation.   Efter a few minutes they’d returned tae the desk.

  “Let the basturt go,” Billy Liar hid growled stiffly.

  “Whit?” a chorus ae voices hid screamed.

  “Ye heard me…turn him loose,” Billy Liar hid croaked, jist aboot bursting intae tears, as Paul lifted up his hauns tae The Stalker tae unlock the hauncuffs that wur digging intae his wrists.

  “And Ah want tae know where Ah kin collect ma dug fae,” Paul hid asked, grinning fae ear tae ear.

  “Yer dug?  That mangy basturt that put five stitches intae that arse ae mine?  Ye’ve nae chance, ya prick, ye.  He’s getting put doon first thing this morning, as soon as the vet arrives.  He’s a danger tae the public.  He’s nae gaun anywhere.  That dug’s as deid as a Dodo,” The Stalker hid spat back at him, a big grin reappearing on that coupon ae his as he unlocked the hauncuffs.

  Paul hid pleaded tae see Wan-eye fur wan last time, bit the basturts hid slung him oot oan tae the street efter telling him tae fuck aff.

   Paul shook his heid in grief as he jumped aff the wee dyke and carried oan up the strath towards the croft.  He thought aboot the panic he’d felt at the train station
when there’d been nae sign ae Saba.  Apart fae the odd straggler rushing forward through the ticket collector’s gate, she’d been naewhere tae be seen.  Jist as he hid gied up hope ae seeing her alive, he’d heard his name being called oot and then he’d clocked her red hair.  She’d come running across fae the left haun side, the same side ae the station fae where he’d climbed o’er the railings earlier.  The ticket guy hid waved her through, withoot checking her ticket.

  “Fur fuck’s sake, Saba.  Where the hell hiv ye been?”

  “I’m sorry, Paul.  I was trying to contact my grandmother, to let her know I was on my way, but it was difficult to get through,” she’d panted.

  “Right, get oan the bloody train before Ah hiv a heart attack,” he’d telt her, opening a carriage door and slinging in her bag before pushing Saba in efter it.

  “So, ur ye getting met at the other end then?” Paul hid asked, as Saba leaned oot ae the carriage door windae.

  “Yes, The Dowager is in London, but I spoke to my mother’s maid, Clarice.  I couldn’t get a word in edgewise…she was so upset and relieved.  She’s from the Deep South in the States, therefore it’s very difficult to make out what she’s saying most of the time. I think she said something about my mother coming to Scotland.  I told her I couldn’t hang about, as the train was about to leave the station.  I told her to meet me in London.  If you thought your accent was bad, you should hear hers.”

  “Ach, well, at least ye’re here noo.  Did ye get the bus okay?”

  “Yes.  I gave Kathleen Mr Mackay’s money.  Where were you?  I…we…were sick, worrying about you,” Saba hid scolded.

  “Ah hid tae dae a wee message that took longer than Ah thought it wid,” he’d replied defensively, as the train guard blew his whistle fae the back ae the train towards the driver who wis hinging oot the engine windae at the ticket gate end.

  “Paul?”

  “Aye?”

  “Thank you,” Saba hid said, stretching further oot ae the windae and gieing him a kiss oan they lips ae his.

  “Whit wis that fur?” he’d asked her, surprised.

  “Just so that you can always say that you’ve been kissed by a
real Lady,” she’d said, smiling, as the train slowly started tae move forwards.

  “Hoi, wait till Ah tell aw the boys Ah’ve spent the night in bed wae that real
Lady.  That’s a mair impressive line than a kiss, so it is, although, the basturts won’t believe me,” Paul hid shouted, as her face moved further away doon the platform and the train gathered speed.

Efter the train hid left the station, Paul hid nipped back the way he’d come and hid gone and goat the car.  Efter leaving the car in the multi-storey car park in Montrose Street, him and Wan-eye hid heided aff up tae Roystonhill tae see if he could track doon Tony and the rest ae The Mankys.  He’d known full-well that they probably widnae be living up there, bit he’d been heiding up tae a good pal ae theirs called Joe O’Hara, or Baby Huey, as he wis known.  Baby wid know how Paul could track The Mankys doon.   Baby wis a big fat basturt, wae a heart ae gold, who could clear a street ae hyenas jist wae his presence.  He wis only aboot fifteen years auld…the same age as Paul…bit awready The Big Man hid him oan the lower rungs ae the payroll.  Although he worked fur The Big Man, Paul hid nae fear ae Baby telling Pat Molloy where he wis.  Being paid and being a pal wur two different things.  Tony always said that The Big Man didnae understaun that ye couldnae buy real friendship the way that ye could buy somewan’s loyalty.  Money wid always fuck ye up the arse at the end ae the day, although it hid never stoapped Paul and his pals fae always wanting it.  Mind you, he thought tae himsel, being nabbed by the bizzies hid denied him the chance tae put whit Tony’d said tae the test, ae
Baby hivving tae make a choice between friendship versus paymaster. That wid need tae wait fur another day.

   Oan the train ride up north, Paul hid spent hauf an hour in the cludgie sorting oot Innes’s five hunner quid.  He’d gied his sister Kathleen fifty quid fur aw the hassle he’d brought tae her door, when he went up tae collect his bag and his two envelopes full ae dosh.  She’d burst intae tears and telt him no tae be so stupid.  She wid be happy wae a tenner and anyway, she’d said, he’d need the money tae try and start a new life, noo that he wis free.  He’d insisted she take the fifty, pointing oot tae her that, efter gieing Innes his money and gieing her fifty quid, he still hid o’er seventy quid tae himsel, if ye included whit wis left ae his boxing match winnings.  She’d burst oot greeting again and telt him she’d use forty three quid ae it tae pay aff the arrears she owed The Corporation.  It wid mean her, Jimmy and the weans wid qualify fur a Corporation hoose again, insteid ae the expensive damp private rented wan they wur living in.  She’d telt him that the Swiss Army knife that Whitey and Innes hid gied him as a birthday present wis in his bag, in case he ever needed tae fix a horse’s hoof.  He hidnae been too sure where that wan hid come fae.  She’d also said that she hidnae telt Jimmy aboot her visit fae Pat Molloy and his bears earlier oan.

  “Ah widnae want tae worry him,” she’d said, wae a wee faint smile.

  Jist before Paul’s train hid reached Perth, the guy sitting beside him hid goat up tae leave.  As he wis leaving the carriage, he’d turned tae Paul.

  “Here ye go, son, Ah’ve read it.”

  It hid been that day’s copy ae The Glesga Echo.  Paul hid unfolded the newspaper, exposing the front page. The headline hid screamed oot at him ‘RE-UNITED, wae a sub-caption saying ‘Duke and Duchess flying south tae join Lady Saba.’  The main picture oan the front page wis ae The Duke and Duchess fae the night before, staunin smiling, facing the cameras, jist before they boarded a Cessna plane that hid been sent up by Lord Denby tae Fearn Airstrip, jist ootside Tain, tae collect them. Even Harold McMillan, the prime minister hid been quoted as saying he wis glad that Saba wis safe and well. Efter the blurb, it hid telt the reader tae go tae pages three, four and five fur mair news oan the story.  Paul hid turned straight tae page three.  Saba hid been quoted as saying that she’d goat the bus fae Ardgay tae Inverness and then tae Aberdeen.  She’d stayed o’er night in Aberdeen, before heiding tae Glesga oan the bus.  She’d claimed that she’d been oan her lonesome.  Her Ma and Da hid been quoted as saying that they wur glad she wis safe and they looked forward tae meeting up wae her.  The Duchess hid said that her maid hid received a phone call tae say she wis oan her way and that the Duchess Dowager, alang wae Saba’s parents wid be at King’s Cross Station in London tae meet her aff the train.  There hid been another article spread across the whole ae page four, highlighting the history ae the family and showing pictures ae aw their wealth and property, which it said, Saba wid inherit someday.  Paul hid particularly enjoyed the page five article by a Mary Marigold, who’d slagged aff the Glesga Police fur making a meal oot ae Saba being kidnapped and wis demanding tae know how much money hid been wasted oan putting the so-called super cop, ‘Sergeant McPhee, aka The Stalker,’
aff tae wander aboot the Western Highlands like a lost sheep.  She’d quoted some chief superintendent in Inverness, who’d said that they’d always made it clear that the force wur treating Lady Saba’s disappearance as a missing person’s investigation and that nae criminal links hid been proved, despite this viewpoint being challenged by some in the central belt.  It hid stated that the local sergeant, Swein McTavish, The Highland Fox, hid concluded, rightly, that the Ross and Sutherland Constabulary should doongrade the investigation tae a missing person, which they’d done.  It hid also stated that The Highland Fox wis unavailable fur comment at the time ae going tae press.  Paul hid laughed oot loud at that last bit.  He hidnae goat the chance tae thank McTavish fur saving his arse oan the trumped-up assault charge.  He felt a wee bit guilty aboot slagging him aff tae Innes when he went wae Innes tae the courthoose in Tain.  Innes wis right, he wisnae a bad guy efter aw.