The Sudden Arrival of Violence: A Glasgow Underworld Novel 3 (29 page)

It’s not his gun he’s taking out of his pocket first. It’s his phone. Dialling the same number he tried last night. A different woman saying hello. Calum asking her to put him through to the same person. He’s standing across the road from the building, waiting. The phone’s ringing. He’s letting it go on. This could be another missed call. Beginning to look like a potential problem. He doesn’t have a plan B. Shouldn’t need one. But this bastard is proving hard to get a hold of. Doesn’t matter how busy he is, he will have time for this.

‘Yes?’ A terse voice. The phone answered by someone with better things to do.

‘Is this Detective Inspector Michael Fisher?’

‘It is.’

‘This is Calum MacLean. I believe you’ve been looking for me. I want to talk to you. Get to your car alone, bring a recording device and I’ll give you further instructions.’

MacLean’s hung up. Fisher’s standing in the busy office, phone in hand. Glancing around. Everyone getting ready. They’re going to move against Shug today. They have a team chasing down Des Collins. Should get him soon. Everything working out nicely, and now this. Calum MacLean. Definitely important, if he is who he says he is. This could be a trap. They’re bound to try something. This could be a set-up. Fisher’s spent months keeping an eye open for MacLean, for any information about what he does. He’s in the business, that’s for sure. And he ran away from his flat around the time Glen Davidson went missing. Now his brother’s lying in the morgue, waiting for an autopsy and funeral arrangements to be made. A mother in shock, giving them no information they can use. Calum and his pal George Daly missing. Daly a known thug for Peter Jamieson. Calum probably an employee of Jamieson, too. And now Calum phoning him up, telling him to get to his car.

You go with your gut, because there isn’t enough clear info to judge. Common sense tells him that he shouldn’t go anywhere near this. The risk is far too high. Someone wanting to silence him. Procedure says you stay away. But MacLean’s brother just died. Nothing to do with the police, something to do with the industry. If MacLean’s pissed off at anyone right now, it’ll be someone in his own line of work. If there’s one time that MacLean might just be willing and able to give him info, it’s now. Besides, everything’s falling his way. He’s heard people say it. You get waves of good luck, so ride them. It’ll all come crashing down at some point.

‘I’m going out, don’t know for how long,’ he’s saying to DC Davies. Davies is looking at him, puzzled. ‘Just got a call from someone who might be Calum MacLean. Might have info on his brother’s killer. This could help.’

‘That’s a risk. You want someone to come with you?’ Davies is asking, praying his senior officer doesn’t say yes.

‘No. I’ll go alone. If I’m not in touch in a couple of hours, start getting nervous.’

If DCI Reid finds out about this, then he will give Fisher an absolute bollocking. Worth it. The chance of big information. This William MacLean death feels big to Fisher. More than just some dodgy garage owner getting the shit kicked out of him over money. The connection to his brother is too important. No coincidence. Fisher’s pulling his coat on and grabbing a small MP3 player as he goes down the stairs. Out into the car park. Could this be all they want? Get him out of the building, take a shot at him and speed away. Nah, that sort of thing doesn’t happen round here. Far too risky. The big players are too smart to play that sort of game. You shoot one cop and you get every other cop in the city looking to take you down. Looking to crush you. Any means necessary. He’s out in the bright morning, walking slowly across to his car. Pausing. The young man on the phone said get to your car and you’ll get further instructions. How can he give further instructions? He doesn’t have Fisher’s mobile number or he wouldn’t have called the office line. Shit, they just want him outside.

‘Detective.’

A male voice. Fisher’s spinning round and glaring at the man. He’s been standing back against the wall, down towards the entrance to the car park. Fisher recognizes him as he’s getting closer. Calum MacLean. He looks like shit, to be honest. Pale and tired. Looks like a man who’s been through a lot and isn’t finished with the drama just yet.

‘My name’s Calum MacLean. Whether you realize it or not, you’ve been looking for me for a long time now. I think it’s time we had a detailed discussion. I have a lot to tell you.’

Doesn’t sound threatening. Doesn’t look it. Seems genuine. ‘Okay. Why don’t we go inside and we can talk about it there?’

Calum’s smiling. A knowing smile. ‘No, I’d rather not. Let’s go for a drive. I’ll talk, and when we’re done we can decide where we both stand.’

It would be easy enough to rush into the station, get officers to grab MacLean. Hell, there’s two uniformed cops making their way over to a car just now, looking across at Fisher and his companion as they go. Just call them across and bring the boy in. Then what happens? Nothing. He clams up, because he’s not getting his own way. Or you go in the car with him, and take your chances. Common sense versus gut feeling, round two.

‘Is this about your brother?’ Fisher’s asking him. Rules say he must be allowed one question.

‘Yes,’ Calum’s saying with a sad nod of the head. ‘But it’s more than just William. There’s a lot I want to tell you. About stuff that goes much further back. But it’s what happened to William that brought me here. He died because of me. And I need to make amends.’

44

He finally got through to Fizzy late last night. It wasn’t an easy conversation. Lots of apologies on both sides. Shug cried a little, but managed to hide it well during the call. Fizzy kept telling him not to worry about the argument they had. Kept saying that he understood it all. He admitted that he’d been hiding for days. Running scared of MacArthur. Heard MacArthur wanted to kill him.

‘I didn’t even know he was after you,’ Shug said.

‘Nobody did – that was the point, I suppose. I think he was trying to get rid of anyone that was close to you. Probably thought it would make it easier to get control of your business.’ Didn’t sound convincing to Fizzy when he said it, but Shug was too highly strung and pissed to notice.

‘Yeah,’ Shug said. If that’s what Fizzy wants to believe about the man trying to kill him, then so be it. He’s lost everything else; this is a chance to salvage a friendship. ‘Listen, I’m going down. I know it. I’ll get a good stretch, probably. I need someone to run the business while I’m away. I want you to do that for me.’

‘Shug, I could be going down, too.’

‘Nah. You might get a short sentence, but nothing more than that. Your fingerprints aren’t on any of the really bad stuff.’

Now it’s morning, and they’re sitting in Shug’s office. Just the two of them. So much like the old days. Atmosphere’s not the same. Can’t pretend it is. Things have changed. Partly because of the falling-out; it casts a cloud. Fizzy will never forget that Shug ordered a man to kill him. He’ll smile and joke and play along, but the old friendship is gone. Dead. This is just business now. There’s also an atmosphere because they know what’s going to happen next. You can’t carry on as normal when you know your world is going to come crashing down.

‘Maybe you could run,’ Fizzy’s suggesting.

‘No,’ Shug’s saying with certainty. ‘I can’t do that. Not with Elaine and the kids. I have to accept it. I went for something big and I botched it. Now I have to handle the fallout. That’s my punishment. Fair enough, I’ll take it, handle it. But I need people I can trust on the outside. That’s why I want you at this meeting.’

Fizzy’s playing a difficult game. Trying to sound like he’s unsure of the Jamieson deal. He is unsure. He hasn’t suddenly learned to trust Peter Jamieson after everything that’s gone on. But he can’t let Shug know that he’s been part of a deception. Sound unsure, but don’t change his mind. If Shug backs out of this, Fizzy is a dead man. This deal is life now. Piss off Jamieson and he’s dead. Keep Jamieson happy and he’s rich and powerful.

‘Fine,’ Fizzy’s saying, putting reluctant acceptance into his voice. ‘I’ll accept whatever you and Jamieson come up with. But you have to remember, if I go down, then I won’t be there to run anything. And if Jamieson decides to try to take your share when you’re behind bars, then I’ll have to fight against that. Have to do it under my own steam.’ Disingenuous bullshit, but convincingly said.

Shug’s smiling – first time since Fizzy came here this morning – smiling at his friend, and his determination to do what’s right for them and for the business. ‘That’s fine by me,’ Shug’s saying.

The car journey to the club was quiet. Not a lot to say. A week ago they were doing a deal to hand over a chunk of the business to MacArthur. Now it’s Jamieson. Interchangeable bastards. This one’s a little bit different. With MacArthur, it was a share of the car-ring. It was all more vague, all about getting a deal in place. That’s because MacArthur never had any intention of honouring a proper agreement. Just get his feet in the door and then take the lot. Different with Jamieson. More detail. Legally binding, because it’s built around the legit business. Okay, he could still stab them in the back, but it seems unlikely. The legit business matters more to him, because he’s trying to build something. Something large, something that makes a lot of clean money.

MacArthur’s built everything he’s ever going to build. Everything he really needs. Shug knows what matters most to Jamieson about this, and it’s not the business. It’s the chance to piss off MacArthur. That’s the next great battle. Jamieson and MacArthur. This is an opening shot in that, which is why Jamieson has to honour the deal. Make himself the man that others want to deal with.

They’re in through the front door and making their way up the stairs. Fizzy tripping and nearly falling forward. Cursing imaginatively at the offending step, drawing a smile from Shug. Through the snooker room and along the corridor to Jamieson’s office. Led by a surly-looking barman. He’s knocking on the door and holding it open for them. Jamieson’s behind his desk, standing as they come in. Young getting up from a couch at the side of the room. Young coming over, introducing himself, shaking hands. Now shaking hands with Jamieson. There’s a coldness. An atmosphere hanging unpleasantly in the room. Shug assumes it’s because of everything that’s gone between them in the past. A reasonable assumption. Wrong, but reasonable. There are two chairs in front of the desk, which Shug and Fizzy are sitting in.

‘I’m glad we’re doing this,’ Jamieson is saying. ‘Not just for the obvious reasons, either. The last few months, what’s happened between us, it was a mistake. We should have found a way of sorting it out much sooner. I take the blame for that. I’ve been around long enough to see it and do something about it. But I’ll tell you something, Shug: there isn’t a man in this business who’s got rich from looking backwards. Not one. We need to look at what we can do for each other going forward. There’s a neat fit here. You have a legit business that we currently have no role in. Your business doesn’t clash with ours at all. Complements it, in fact. And we can offer you a lot of things that are going to help you going forward. Police contacts, for one thing. Try to make sure we can reduce charges against you. Or evidence against you, anyway. Protection’s another thing. For you and your family. For all the people that matter to you.’

All the things Shug wants to hear. No point in Jamieson pretending he can keep Shug out of jail. They both know that’s not true. Don’t promise miracles. Be honest about your limitations. Offer him only the things he knows you can deliver. Make him trust you. Shug’s nodding. He didn’t expect more than he’s being offered.

‘And MacArthur?’ he’s asking. ‘How do you handle him?’ Jamieson’s smiling. ‘We have things on him. As soon as we knew he was moving against us, we started to defend ourselves. We can handle him. Won’t be easy. Going to be messy,’ he’s saying, leaning back in his chair. ‘I won’t bullshit you here; I can’t guarantee that he’s not going to do me some harm. And I can guess that he’ll target your business because of this. But I’ll give you the best protection you can get anywhere in this city.’

It all adds up to the best offer Shug’s going to get. A man about to be sent down. A man with a business under attack from Alex MacArthur. Losing 49 per cent of that business is a small price. He doesn’t trust Jamieson. Why should he? But in a battle of honesty between Jamieson and MacArthur, there’s a clear winner. He might not feel the same way if he understood the games being played between those two men, but Shug can only work with the information he has available. Besides, there’s an issue beyond trust. If he wants to come out of jail with anything at all in his possession, he needs to pick the winner in the next fight. The last fight was Shug and Jamieson, and Jamieson won. The next winner will be Jamieson or MacArthur. One or the other. Pick your fighter; pray he doesn’t get knocked out. Which man has the talent to make it to the end of the fight? Shug’s backing Jamieson. Knows that backing him makes Jamieson stronger, gives him more credibility. Gives Shug the chance to come out to something that at least resembles his old life.

‘I want you to know that when I come out, I’ll only be focusing on the car-ring and the garages,’ Shug’s saying. ‘After what’s gone on, no more of anything else. And I think it would be better if you didn’t involve the car business in your own . . . enterprises.’

Jamieson’s nodding along. He has no intention of using the car business for drugs anyway. Better to keep it separate, let it earn its own money without becoming a target. That was Shug’s mistake from the beginning. Taking a profitable and safe business and turning it into a target for people in the drugs business. He’s learned his lesson. All this talk is the song of the repentant sinner. Just what Jamieson expected. Just what he’s heard so many times before.

‘I fully intend to keep it separate. There’ll be no crossover whatsoever with my businesses. Truth is, we do that already with a lot of stuff. Better to keep them separate, raises fewer eyebrows. Stops them becoming a target.’

It never felt like a friendly meeting. Never felt like Jamieson was happy with the discussion. Which seems strange to Shug, because Jamieson’s the one making a killing here. He’s the one who comes out of this battle between the pair with half of Shug’s business. Comes out with an enhanced reputation. An opportunity to strike against MacArthur. What more does he want? Yet he seemed distracted. Shug and Fizzy are making their way back down to the car. Fizzy scarcely said a thing throughout. When Shug and Jamieson agreed that Fizzy should take control of the business, he nodded, but said nothing. Seems depressed by the whole thing.