The Sudden Arrival of Violence: A Glasgow Underworld Novel 3 (21 page)

Up the stairs and through the snooker room. A room Jamieson has spent very little time in recently. Along the corridor and into the office. Jamieson sitting at his desk. Reading something, looking up at Young as he comes in. Young walking across the room and sitting on the couch.

‘Any news?’ Jamieson’s asking.

‘None useful. Brother left work early, went home. He’s at the house now. It’s being watched. Apparently the brother’s been taking a lot of time off this week. I’ve got someone checking travel details for Donald Tompkin. I’m sure he hasn’t gone yet. Sure of it.’

Jamieson’s saying nothing. Shouldn’t be sure of anything. Not yet. Not when they’re in danger of falling into a river of shit. Calum’s been a smart little bastard. Setting up his escape just after a job. Knows they won’t be expecting to hear from him. This job in particular. Knows how distracted they’re going to be. Such a shame. Smart and cold like that – he could have been brilliant.

They’ve been in near-total silence as they wait for Young’s mobile to ring. It’s dark outside. The club will be filling up. It’s Friday night, so it’ll be heaving with people down there. A long night and a loud one. People oblivious to what’s going on above them. Wouldn’t care anyway. As long as it doesn’t get in their way. People just want to have a good time and be left alone. That’s one valuable lesson Jamieson’s learned over the years. Let people have their way and leave them to it, and they’ll have nothing bad to say about you. It’s been two hours since Young got back to the office. Nothing. This is taking longer than it should. Maybe Higgins has run into trouble. Jamieson’s glancing across at Young, who’s pretending to read a paper. How well does Young know these contacts of his? He thinks he can trust this Higgins character. Jamieson’s never met the boy. Stop that. Stop thinking that way right now. You lose trust in your right-hand man and it’s all fucked. There’s enough people to doubt right now. John Young ain’t one of them.

It’s nearly ten o’clock when Young’s mobile starts to ring. He’s looking at the screen. Looking across to Jamieson and nodding before he answers.

‘Hello. Uh-huh. Okay. That’s excellent.’ And hanging up. Keep the conversation as short as possible. ‘Donald Tompkin is still with us. Has a plane ticket to London for tomorrow. Leaving from Edinburgh airport.’

Jamieson’s frowning. ‘Could be in Edinburgh already.’

‘Nah,’ Young’s saying. ‘He won’t have left his brother’s house. Not since the night he killed Kenny and Hardy. He’ll be hiding there. Won’t want anyone to see him. Won’t take the risk. I’ll bet his brother will give him a lift across to Edinburgh tomorrow. Flight’s in the afternoon.’ You can hear the enthusiasm in Young’s voice. He feels as though they’re back in control.

Jamieson’s sitting at his desk and he’s thinking. Plotting. Go with your gut. That’s what he’s always done. It got him a long way. Started to doubt his instinct lately. Started to doubt himself. Frank’s fault. And Kenny’s, to a lesser extent. You let people get close to you, and they let you down. How can you trust yourself after that? Because you have to, is the short and simplistic answer. His gut tells him that Calum’s finished. Common sense tells him the same thing. So it’s unanimous. They have to find Calum. And they have to kill him. There’s no other way out. No other punishment will do. They can’t take him back. That’s what Jamieson had hoped for, but he can see now it’s not going to happen. Once a gunman tries to get away, you have to stop them altogether. He tries once, and he’ll try again. He’s not happy now, and he’s never going to be. So Jamieson knows exactly what they’re going to do.

‘We need to get him out of the house and away from his brother,’ Jamieson’s saying. ‘Going to have to do it tomorrow morning.’

31

William’s leaving the house early. Going to head in to the garage and spend an hour or two there. Should probably be with his brother, but it’s too tense. Besides, he’s going to drive Calum across to Edinburgh later this morning. There’ll be plenty of time for goodbyes then. Calum has said they’ll stay in touch. Might be a while before he’s able, but he’ll make it happen.

‘When I’ve settled somewhere, established my new ID, I’ll be in touch. I’m not going to suddenly forget that you’re my brother,’ Calum told him. Won’t forget what William’s done for him, either. Didn’t say that. Didn’t need to.

Nice to be out of the house, William’s thinking now. Nice to get to the garage and focus on work for a little while. Make sure that nothing indescribably stupid has happened in his absence. He’s driving away from the house. Didn’t stop and check for any sign he was being followed. Getting blasé about it now.

If he’d stopped to look, he might have seen George. Exhausted George, sitting in the car. He fell asleep last night. Should have been watching the house, and he fell asleep for more than two hours. Unprofessional. But he is only human. He’s calling Young now, telling him that William’s left the house by himself.

‘Should I follow him?’

A long pause. The long pause of a bad decision being made. ‘No. Stay where you are. Keep an eye out for Calum. If he leaves the house, then you follow him. Otherwise, stay where you are.’ It wasn’t supposed to be this way. It was going to be George who followed William. George who delivered William’s punishment. But Young’s changed his mind. A lack of trust. George is too close to Calum. Wouldn’t deliver the punishment that must be delivered. He’d let William off the hook. William MacLean knew what he was doing. Knew the risk he was taking. Now he has to pay for that.

Young’s calling Shaun Hutton. Hutton is still going to deliver Calum’s punishment. The only man they have who can. First, he’s going to deal with William. Young’s telling him what to do. Where to draw the line. Hutton doesn’t sound enthusiastic. Thinks this sort of thing beneath him. He’s a gunman, not muscle. Maybe Young should have gone with George after all. No, too late.

‘Go round to his garage,’ Young’s saying. ‘He might be there. If not, let us know.’

Was that the right move? Jamieson will be pissed off. He wanted George to handle the brother. Jamieson likes George. Thinks he has talent, which he does. Been making a point of getting George involved, meeting personally with him. Thinks the lad has brains, which he does. But none of that matters if you don’t have trust. George is too close to Calum.

Hutton’s sitting outside the garage. He’s seen the man he thinks is William. It’s turning into a lovely day. Bright sunshine. Sent round to punish a guy in the daylight. Yeah, like that’s ever a good idea. This whole Jamieson organization is starting to seem like a mess. Feels like they only have shitty jobs for a man to do. Maybe crossing over was a mistake. Maybe he should just have ducked out. Lie low for a while, then find work freelance. Too late. Can’t get off a horse halfway through a race. Not without taking a painful tumble. So he’s watching William MacLean. Coming out of the garage and looking at a car parked on the street. Trying to look under it. Looking at a sheet of paper he has in his hand. Seems like something doesn’t add up. Shaking his head slightly and going back into the garage. No sign of anyone else. Saturday morning. The other mechanics won’t be there. Just the boss coming in for a little work. Close those garage doors and it’ll be just the two of them.

William’s been in there a while. Still no sign of anyone else. Hutton’s getting out of his car. No time like the present. Young told him to be quick about it. Locking the car and walking up to the entrance. Feels weird, doing a job in the daytime. Out in the open like this. Not a hit, which justifies the lack of caution. Still doesn’t feel right. He’s stepping inside the large doors, looking around. Gloomy in here. Nobody moving about. One car up on the ramp on the right-hand side of the garage, another two parked close together at the back. There’s what looks like a little cabin at the back, windows overlooking the garage floor. A light on there. Hutton’s tall enough to see the top of someone’s head, sitting at the desk in the office. That would be our target. Hutton’s turning and pulling shut the garage doors. They slide across. Slow and loud, but he’s reached the point where stealth doesn’t matter.

William doesn’t think anything of the scraping noise. Heard it a million times before. Hardly registers that it’s the garage doors closing. It’s the reduction in sunlight. Always dark at the back of the garage, that’s why he needs the light on all the time. Still, you notice when the little sunlight there is disappears. He’s craning his neck to look out the window and into the garage. He can see a figure closing the doors, but not who it is. He’s getting up, angry at first, then nervous. Could be a cop. William’s coming down the few wooden steps to the garage floor. Walking towards the man who’s approaching him. William’s about to say something. Something that shows his annoyance, but not something that pisses off a cop. Play nice. If they ask about Calum, play dumb. The man’s reached him. Big fellow. The only light is coming from the office. Just enough to see the man. Just enough to see that he isn’t a cop.

It’s obvious to Hutton that William doesn’t know who he is. Recognition is one of the things you learn to look for. Hutton’s bigger than William, which will help. Doesn’t know the surroundings so well, which won’t. Means he has to make the first move. Press home that size advantage as early as possible.

‘What do you want?’ William’s asking.

He’s expecting an answer. You play on the expectations of others. That’s why Hutton’s lashing out. A firm punch. Not all his weight behind him. Wants to knock William on his arse, doesn’t want to break his hand in the process. William’s going over hard. Didn’t see it coming – that’s the point. Now Hutton wants to finish this fast. Keep him down. Looking around for weapons. Nothing nearby. All the tools carefully packed away on the other side of the garage. Never mind. Getting him down early makes a weapon unnecessary.

Doesn’t even know what William’s done. Never done a beating before. Still feeling the tension of crossing over. Got caught with a loser in Shug. Now crossed over to what feels like a struggling organization. Feeling concerned about his future. He punishes the brother, and he’ll have to handle Calum as well. Like he’s the only person Jamieson has. What sort of organization only has one guy to do all this? Put all those concerns together and it might explain what’s happening now. Might explain the state of Hutton’s mind. Taking a step closer to William. William’s moving as though to get up. Slowly, on his knees and elbows. Head still bowed to the floor. Hutton towering over him, fists clenched. Waiting for William to raise his head. Seconds passing. William finally raising his head. Now Hutton’s moving. Moving while his anger is high. Moving before he can think better of it.

Kicking William. Kicking him repeatedly. Going for the head. Kicking with all his weight. Eight times. Nine times. Ten. Stopping. Panting a little. Not in great shape. Glaring down at William in the gloom. No movement from him. Lying on his side. Impossible to see his face. His reaction. Hutton missed with a bunch of those kicks. Just glancing blows. But he caught at least half of them hard. Hutton’s bending over, looking for a response. A rasping breath from William. Catches Hutton by surprise. Makes him take a step backwards. It sounds like a provocation. Any sound puncturing this silence does. Hutton kicking him in the stomach. Then again, and again. Stopping now, and taking a step backwards. No sound coming from William. No movement.

Hutton can’t get a good look at him in this light. Can’t see the damage. Boy’s not moving, though, so that means stop. The punishment given. The message sent. Hutton’s never done muscle-work in his life. Every part of this felt bad. Reckless. Too close. Too personal. Another look around the garage, taking a few steps towards the office at the back. Nobody there. Fine, now leave. Out towards the doors. Pulling one slightly open, stepping out. Nobody on the street. Nobody to see him leave. Pulling the door shut behind him. Makes the garage look like it’s all closed up. Saturday morning. Believable. Nobody’s going to go poking around in there for a while. Not until William crawls his way out. If he does. Now Hutton’s worrying that he went too far. It was a message, not a hit.

Hutton’s along to his car. Opening the door, dropping into the driver’s seat. Looking down and seeing blood on his brown hiking boot. William’s, obviously. Must have burst a nose or a lip. No big deal. Plenty of bust noses in this city. Driving away. Finding it a little difficult to focus. Nervous. That’s weird. More nervous driving away from this job than he ever is driving away from a hit. Fear doesn’t come from the scale of the crime, it comes from the quality. He’s back home when he calls Young. ‘It’s done,’ Hutton’s telling him. Waiting to hear that he can relax.

‘Good. Sit tight, stay where I can get in touch with you. You might have a big job very soon. Next twenty-four hours.’ And Young’s hung up.

Hutton’s slumping into a chair. Another job in twenty-four hours. Calling it a big one. Sounds like the Calum hit. Two jobs in a day. Crossing over really does feel like a big mistake now.

32

This was Young’s idea. Jamieson doesn’t want to meet Deana Burke. A traitor’s woman. A woman who knew what her man was up to. Frankly, she has no right asking for their help. Jamieson thinks she has a brass neck you couldn’t mark with a fucking blowtorch. But he can see the benefit of playing her. Young’s got her set up nicely. She’s in contact with Fisher, and Young and Nate Colgan have persuaded her that Shug was responsible for what happened to Kenny. So they play her and she helps them get what they want. Blindly feeding misinformation back to Fisher. But it doesn’t mean he’s going to enjoy this. She’s due at the club in ten minutes. He called her, spoke to her. Told her how concerned he was. Concerned about what happened to Kenny. About what might happen to her. Told her he wanted to do whatever he could to help. Asked her to come round. Said he thought it might benefit them both to talk face-to-face.

He’s taking a small glass of whiskey. Just a small one. It’ll help him to control his temper with her. When she comes in here and starts playing the grieving widow. Starts saying what a tragedy it was. At some point she’ll say what a good man Kenny was, and Jamieson will have to agree. Pouring a second glass. Going to need it. Can’t say what a good man Kenny was without sounding sarcastic. Not stone-cold sober anyway. Not in this mood. Might have been able to, if it wasn’t for Calum. Another little bastard. Couple of glasses might not be enough. No more – if he takes a third he’ll get a dirty look from John Young. Make sure he can speak soberly. She has to find him convincing. He has to be the tough but tender boss of a major organization. Has to convince her he’s a man to listen to. Persuade her, so that you don’t have to force her.