The Sudden Arrival of Violence: A Glasgow Underworld Novel 3 (10 page)

Stop wasting time. Time is the one thing you don’t have. Barry Fairly is the counterfeiter’s name, apparently. William’s never heard of him. Calum has, seems to think he’s the best in the business. But they can’t afford to look like they’re in a hurry. William wasn’t going to argue with that. Last thing you do is look desperate. Didn’t need Calum to warn him. You look desperate, and a counterfeiter starts to worry. Starts to think he can’t trust you to keep him out of trouble. You play by his rules, and you play casual. William’s stepping out of the car, checking his pockets. A small wad of cash. This bastard’s going to account for a big lump of the cash Calum has available to him. Something else for William to worry about. A little passport photo. A printed sheet with the required details. It’s all he needs.

Up the steps to the front door. More steps than he realized. Ringing the doorbell. Barry doesn’t know to expect him. You don’t phone ahead. You go round and ask if he’ll help. If he will, he takes the job. If not, you go away and don’t come back. If he takes the job, then this and the collection will be the only points of contact. The collection will not happen at the house. The collection is the other thing William has to get right. William’s standing two steps down, holding onto the railing. The door’s opening. A stout middle-aged woman is looking down at him. She doesn’t look impressed with what she’s seeing, which seems a bit rich.

‘Yes?’ she’s saying.

‘I’m looking for Barry,’ William’s saying. Remembering Calum’s orders. Keep it polite. Tell Barry you want to see him about his hobby. Tell him you have a garage. ‘I’m here to see him about his hobby.’

‘Hold on there,’ she’s saying.

She’s closed the door in his face, which suggests the politeness is a one-way street. She’s obviously waddled off down the corridor to see if Barry wants to meet this new arrival. It’s more than a minute and a half later when the door opens again. Same stout little woman.

‘What’s your name?’

‘William,’ he’s saying.

‘Hold on there.’ She’s closed the door again, and William’s still standing on the doorstep. Feels pretty conspicuous to him, but if that’s how they want to play it. Another two minutes have gone by. Doesn’t feel like this is going well. The door opening. This time a man. Still closer to obesity than is advisable, still short in the arse, but definitely not the woman. Curly, sandy hair and glasses meet the description of Barry Fairly that Calum gave William.

‘You are?’ the man’s saying, looking down through his glasses. He sounds annoyed. That’ll be with the wife he sent to find out who was at the door, and who came back with no useful information.

‘William MacLean. I have a garage on the east side. I heard you might be able to help me,’ he’s saying quietly. ‘With your hobby.’

The man’s nodding. Calum had told him to mention the garage. That’ll get him in the front door, at least. If you stand on the steps saying you want a passport for someone else you could spook him. Certainly make him wary. He hears ‘garage’ and he thinks it’s car stuff. That’ll get William inside. Good money supplying garages. The man’s giving a single nod for William to follow him.

Front door shut behind them. These are big houses, but old. Narrow corridors, lots of small rooms, gloomy. They’re along a corridor, through a kitchen, into a utility room and out into the back garden. William’s getting a little concerned, but now he’s seeing the large shed at the bottom of the garden. Door open.

Into the shed. There’s a heater opposite the door. A radio on a shelf. A power supply coming from the house. There’s a comfy chair, and a desk against the single window. On the desk is a single sheet of paper, with a closed folder beside it. Work, obviously. William can catch a glimpse of a couple of things pushed out of view under the desk. One will be a laminator. He can smell that it’s been used in the last few minutes. Under the folders he can see what looks like a laptop. Barry hiding a sophisticated operation behind the shoddy appearance of a garden shed.

‘So you have a garage, huh?’ Barry’s asking him.

‘I do.’

‘So what are you looking for, book or licence?’

William’s a little taken aback. Didn’t even ask for the name of the garage. Didn’t ask for any proof of ID. Doesn’t seem to be very cautious. Maybe he already knows who William is from the name. Calum says he’s the best for passports.

‘Licence,’ William’s saying casually. ‘While we’re at it, I thought you could do me a passport as well. I heard you were good at them.’

That’s got a look from Barry. He doesn’t seem to like the combination of driving licence and passport.

‘Did you now? And why does a guy with a garage need a passport along with a driving licence?’

William’s shrugging. ‘He doesn’t. But he thought he might as well kill two birds with one stone, you know. Reduces the risk, I figured.’

Barry’s nodding a little, looking up at William. William has what people like to call an open face. He looks friendly, the sort of guy you can trust. ‘Thing is,’ Barry’s saying, ‘it’s not like I know you. Not like I know I can trust you.’

‘I don’t know you, either,’ William’s saying, ‘but I’m willing to risk it. I know you have a good reputation. You’ll find mine is solid. Besides, this goes well, I might need more licences and log books.’

Greed. That’s what it’s all about. You don’t find out that you’re good at counterfeiting by accident. You find out you’re good because you give it a shot. And you give it a shot because you want easy money. The prospect of another garage coming to him is more temptation than a simple man can resist.

‘Well, things are changing in the car business in this city,’ Barry’s saying with a knowing nod. He heard about Shug. Heard about him trying his hand at harder work. If it succeeds, he’ll leave his humble car business behind. If it fails, he’s out of the business anyway. It’s a golden opportunity for anyone who isn’t already his counterfeiter. ‘I’ve got a bit of a backlog,’ Barry’s saying. He’s not a good liar, but you have to try, don’t you?

‘I don’t want this taking long,’ William’s saying. ‘An opportunity kind of fell into my lap here. I’ve been thinking about switching. Things going on, you know how it is. Changes. Anyway, I need it quick as you can do it.’

Barry’s made a series of noises that are supposed to make it sound like he’s thinking. Make it sound as though he’s contemplating some great sacrifice. William doesn’t think someone would literally huff and puff at such a prospect, but he’s not here to argue.

‘I could have it by the start of next week, but it’ll cost you,’ Barry’s saying. ‘There’s a lot that I would have to put aside to help you out here.’

William does have some previous experience of counterfeiting. No emergencies, to be sure. No rush jobs. Calum seemed to have an idea of what would happen. Said that Barry would try to screw him out of all sorts of money. Try to delay it as much as possible. That way he can charge for taking all that time, but instead work on other things.

William’s shaking his head. Firmly, but with that open and fair expression he does so well. ‘No can do. Need it sooner than that, or I lose a job. Pointless if you take that long. I need it in twenty-four hours.’

Barry’s not going to let this one get away. He’s guessing that MacLean is testing him here. He’s good at what he does, but one day is asking a bit much.

‘The licence I can have by tomorrow,’ he’s nodding. ‘Passport, maybe on Friday. I’ll need the right info from you today. I’ll need to get some info from my people at the passport office as well,’ he’s saying, trying to make himself sound terribly important. Like he has people. ‘You got a picture, preferred details?’

‘Got a picture,’ William’s saying, taking the photo and sheet of paper from his pocket. ‘Some details, but I want you to come up with a safe ID.’ The address is William’s own, for now. Calum will change that as soon as he finds somewhere to live. Barry’s looking at the sheet, nodding at the details. Saying nothing about the false ID. Easy for him, he has plenty in reserve. Suspicious, but he didn’t get where he is by asking questions. No good counterfeiter asks too many questions.

‘Going for a passport and licence for the same guy?’ Barry’s asking. ‘What about a National Insurance card?’ Looking to create a little extra work.

‘Nah,’ William’s saying dismissively. ‘Not needed.’ Calum might get a fake card at some point, but not yet. Only thing he’s likely to need that for is legit work, and he’s nowhere near that stage yet.

Now William’s passing across the passport photo. This is the moment. The picture of Calum is a couple of years old, but still recognizably him. It could pass for William, if your eyesight wasn’t up to much. If Barry knows what Calum looks like, then he’ll recognize him. Bound to. Recognize that this is more of a risk than he wants to be involved in. Calum’s convinced that Barry’s never seen him. Might have heard of him, but probably not. Barry’s looking at the photo. Pausing. Glancing up at William. He’s seen a similarity, but he knows better than to comment on it. You don’t chase business away. It usually runs of its own accord.

‘Right. Two days it’ll take me. Leave a number with me and I’ll call you when it’s ready. Tell you where to pick it up. Okay? Let’s call it four hundred up front, four hundred on delivery.’

William’s pausing, then scoffing. Don’t let him know you’re desperate. He’ll know if you let him overcharge you. ‘Let’s call it two up front, two on delivery. We can talk about a set price for the future if this goes well.’

He seems like a nice guy, does Barry Fairly. William knows better than to trust him. He’s back in his car, two hundred pounds down and the agreement in place. This is when it starts to get nervy. They’re relying on someone else, and William doesn’t like that. If it was just himself and Calum, everything would be fine. Trusting other people – that’s the thing. Two days of waiting. Hoping you can trust this guy. If they can’t, Calum could be finished. William’s getting angry as he’s driving home. Angry at Barry for a crime not yet committed. If that Barry stabs them in the back, by God, William will return. Back to that shitty little shed to rip it and its inhabitant apart. Okay, that might not be true, but he won’t let it go unpunished. For now, it’s home again. Back to Calum and the weird atmosphere. It feels like they should be cherishing every moment. Making the most of what could be their last few days together. They can’t. Can’t go outside. Can’t be seen or heard. Not much to talk about that doesn’t work its way back to killing people and running away.

15

Peter Jamieson doesn’t get out much. The consequences of importance. There was a time when it was different. Back when they started, Peter was the one who pounded the streets. He was the one with menace, because he was the one who could hurt you. Young was his sidekick. The smart guy you didn’t need to be afraid of. That changed with power. It got to a point where Jamieson couldn’t safely do the things he used to. He misses very few of those things, to be fair. Being the tough guy? Huh, leave that to the meatheads. Plenty of those around. And now Young has the menace to scare people anyway. Not because he’s got any tougher; he hasn’t. It’s because people know he has power behind him, and there’s nothing quite as intimidating as power. All of that power still belongs to Jamieson. Take him away and Young’s back to being the smartarse weakling.

Jamieson’s sitting in his office, watching TV. Half-watching, in fact. Paying a little attention to the local news, but contemplating other things. Got a text from Young saying he would be late in. No problem to Jamieson. He’s not what you would call a morning person. Work’s been heavy lately; he could do with taking a weekend to himself. It’ll have to wait. Big plans ahead. Very big. Career-defining. Get this thing with Shug just right and it sets up the next few years. No mention on the news of missing persons, so he’s switching the TV off. No mention in the local press, either. Young was confident this wouldn’t go big. Hardy had nobody to care if he went missing. Kenny only has his girlfriend, and she’s been around long enough to know better. In normal circumstances Jamieson would be reassured. His instincts tell him it’ll be fine. But his instincts told him Kenny was a good guy. People keep saying you have good instincts for the business, and eventually you get to believe them. Dangerous thing, believing others.

Young’s coming into the office now. Looking a little flustered, a little fed up. That’s not like him. Means there’s something to discuss. You spend more than two decades working by someone’s side and you learn what every expression means. Over time, both of these men have learned how to go expressionless. That’s valuable, too. You show no expression to an outsider and they have no way of knowing your mood. Young’s sitting down with a thump on the couch, looking across at Jamieson.

‘Had a couple of meetings already this morning,’ he’s saying.

He’s trying to look like this is some terrible struggle for him. Jamieson isn’t buying it. John Young likes to be busy. Everyone knows it. ‘What’s the problem?’

Young’s puffing out his cheeks. ‘Met with George and a couple of contacts. Separately, obviously. Good news is: Shug seems to be going the predictable route. Trying to make quick moves. He’s going broad, though. Targeting everyone with a name. I’ve been thinking. He knows about Calum. Knows that he works for us. He might make Calum a target again.’

Jamieson’s scowling, but it isn’t a huge surprise. There was always a chance that Shug would target Calum, especially if he knows that Frank MacLeod isn’t around any more.

‘Okay,’ Jamieson’s saying. ‘Well, we have to decide if we need to contact Calum or not. Give him a warning.’

Young’s pausing, thinking about it. ‘I don’t think so. A day and a half after he takes out two targets? Better for us, and him, if we keep quiet right now. Thing is,’ he’s saying, and bobbing the foot of his crossed leg up and down while he thinks, ‘he’s made one move against Calum and failed. Shug hasn’t mentioned Calum to anyone, far as I know.’ He’s shrugging. ‘Certainly hasn’t gone big on making it public.’

‘We can’t rely on it staying that way,’ Jamieson’s saying with a shake of his head. Going with his instincts. ‘If this goes our way, then Shug’s in all kinds of trouble. He’ll sing. Bound to. He’s too legit not to. He’ll mention Calum.’