The Silver Arrow Page 12

  “Kim Sui mentioned that Senga Jackson hid been intae the shoap earlier.”

  “So? Kim Sui’s still in touch wae some ae the lassies. Ah cannae really stoap them fae popping intae the shoap fur a chin-wag noo and again, kin Ah? Ah’m telling ye, Ah’m too busy tae get involved noo. Ye’ve seen the set-up Ah’ve goat. Ah’m building up a reputation…a positive wan fur a change,” he said smoothly. “Hivving any ae that manky mob hinging aboot wid put aff the customers. Naw, Ah’m a reformed character these days, so Ah am.”

  “Look, Ah’m sorry, Ah shouldnae hiv brought it up. Even if ye wur still seeing them, it’s none ae ma business anyway. We’re jist aboot there. Ye kin jist drap me aff here…oan the corner ae Colt Park Avenue, if that’s okay.”

  “Ur ye sure? It’s still raining, so it is. Ah don’t mind drapping ye aff at yer front door. Whit hoose dae ye live in anyway?” he asked, looking doon the avenue.

  “Oh, er, Ah ca…”

  “Whit’s the matter?”

  “Ah’m sorry, it’s nothing tae dae wae you, Jake. It’s ma da…his job. The hoose we moved intae wis broken intae a few Christmases ago when the previous family stayed there. Whoever it wis hid stayed in the basement right through Christmas. They stole aw the family’s presents and wrecked the place by turning it o’er. The couple said their weans hid nightmares fur months efter that and that’s why they decided tae sell it. We goat it fur a song because ae that.”

  “Oh, right. Ach, well, don’t worry, Ah’m no easily offended, even if Ah am straight as a die these days. Ah’m sure someday, somewan like yer da will see that Ah’m jist an honest guy trying tae make an honest buck,” he declared, sounding like a fork-tongued lying angel, drawing up tae the pavement.

  “Look, Ah’m really sorry, Jake. Ah feel really bad. Ye must think Ah’m some sort ae paranoid freak. Ah think whit ye’ve achieved is amazing…Ah honestly mean that,” she said, fingering the silk scarf roond her neck.

  “Dis that mean ye’ll come oot fur a wee drink wae me then?”

  “Pardon?”

  “A wee drink this Saturday? Ah’ve been invited tae a party across in The West End. There’s bound tae be a few ae the Celtic and Rangers players there. Ah could introduce ye tae a few ae them. We could go and hiv a bite tae eat in a wee Atalian restaurant Ah’ve discovered o’er by Byres Road. ”

  “Oh…Ah…er…”

  “Come oan, Michelle. Ah’m no gonnae try and hiv ma evil way wae ye…unless the thought ae me no trying my haun is putting ye aff?” he said, smiling.

  “Ah wid love tae, it’s jist…ma da…” she groaned.

  “Ah thought he wis still running aboot Springburn, chasing that big glaikit shadow ae his? He’ll never know. Look, Ah’ll pick ye up here oan Saturday night at seven o’clock. Whit dae ye think?”

  “Er, aye…okay, bit ma da cannae find oot or Ah’m deid, so Ah am,” she replied, exhaling wae relief and smiling.

  “Ah’ll see ye oan Saturday then,” he said, leaning o’er and kissing her oan the cheek. “By the way, that scarf looks absolutely gorgeous oan ye, so it dis. The colours go wae yer eyes and complexion. Ah’ll look forward tae seeing ye wearing it oan Saturday.”

  “That disnae mean ye’ve goat a green light tae try anything funny,” Michelle reminded him, smiling, as she opened the car door and hurriedly walked doon the avenue.

  “Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  “Police still have West High Street and Crofthead Lane in Kirkintilloch town centre cordoned off nearly eighteen hours after a forty-five-year-old local millionaire businessman, Mr Thomas Brannighan, a director with Kirkintilloch Driving School, one of the biggest driving instruction schools in the West of Scotland, was shot and critically injured around 8.15 p.m. last night. Police said today that they are looking for a lone gunman, seen running off down Crofthead Lane adjacent to the Blackbull Cinema in the direction of Glasgow Road. Witnesses to the shooting have reported seeing the gunmen bending over Mr Brannighan and taking what appeared to be a package from inside his coat as he lay on the ground. The shooting happened shortly after cinema-goers queued up outside the cinema where the new film Stardust, starring David Essex, is currently showing. Police have refused to confirm whether they believe drugs were a motive in the shooting…

  A postman is recovering in The Royal Infirmary after been kicked by a horse whilst delivering a letter to a second storey flat in Maryston Street, Blackhill, this morning. Jermyn Scott was pushing a letter through the letterbox when the back leg of the horse crashed through a panel in the door, catching Mr Scott and breaking his pelvis. It is thought that the horse may have been startled by the postman suddenly opening the letterbox and trying to stuff an envelope through it at that time of the morning. The owner of the horse, Jack McPhee, said he kept the horse in the lobby of his flat at night to stop local children feeding it with food scavenged from the local middens…

  A police sergeant and a constable have both been suspended after assaulting two youths in front of a crowd of pedestrians at a bus stop on Kinnear Road, Dalmarnock, last night…

  Eight members of the same family have been admitted to the isolation ward at Stobhill Hospital with suspected typhoid after consuming meat bought from a door-to-door salesman. Glasgow Corporation Sanitation officer, Elvis Presley, has confirmed that a number of street traders in the area are currently under investigation…

  A mother of four was found to be dead on arrival at the city’s Western Infirmary after being assaulted by her husband in the family home on...

  Current available figures are expected to show that the number of rapes has risen over the past twelve months, causing consternation amongst women’s groups and politicians alike. Chair of the Police Board, seventy-six-year-old, Bernard Walters caused outrage today after assuring women in the city that everything is being done to protect them, but that women themselves have a key role to play by not going out in the evenings dressed provocatively…”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “Oh, my God, Jake, no, no, yes, yesss! Yes! Oh, Oh, Oh! Ah’m coming, Ah’m coming, oh my God, yes, yes, yes, yessss!” Michelle screamed, collapsing oan tap ae the body underneath her, gasping fur air and taking big gulps doon intae her lungs.

  “Ah’m sorry, Michelle, bit ye’re gonnae hiv tae move, Ah’ve goat bloody cramp in ma knee, so Ah hiv,” Jake laughingly yelped, as she slid aff ae him, allowing him tae jump oot ae the bed and hop aboot the bedroom.

  “Ouch, ya fucker, ye, that wis a sore wan,” he growled, wincing as he crawled back in beside her.

  Michelle laughed as she snuggled up against his chest.

  “Ur ye okay if Ah hiv a fag?”

  “It’s bad fur yer health, so it is.”

  “Wis that a naw?”

  “Ah’ll go and get ye an ashtray. Ah’m sure Ah’ve goat wan somewhere,” he said, nipping oot ae the bed and sauntering through tae the lobby, bare-arsed.

  Michelle leaned oot ae the bed and ruffled through her haunbag until she found her fags and lighter. She lit wan up and flopped back doon oan the pillow, still breathing heavily. Her heid wis spinning and no jist fae the amazing sex either. They’d hid a beautiful candlelit meal in a wee restaurant called Tattaroni’s in a wee cobbled lane jist aff Byres Road. Everywan seemed tae know Jake, including the cat that weaved in and oot the legs ae the chairs and the seated diners. At first she’d been shy, or a bit overwhelmed, if she wis honest wae hersel, bit he’d persevered and hid made her open up wae his witty banter. He’d even hid the decency tae lie aboot the clothes she wis wearing by telling her she looked stunning in her C&A’s staff discounted dress. She’d ransacked her bedroom in frustration, trying tae find something stunning tae wear that she thought he’d appreciate, bit every time she thought back tae the outfits that Kim Sui hid oan display, her confidence hid crumbled and she’d hid tae go back tae the drawing board. Whit hid seemed glamorous and sophisticated a couple ae days earlier, hid noo seemed plain and f
rumpy. At the end ae the day, or night in her case, she’d jist hid tae bite the bullet and get ready tae meet him up oan the corner ae the Kirkintilloch Road. Efter the meal, he’d left the fancy sports car sitting where it wis parked and they’d goat a taxi tae take them across tae another part ae The West End, nearer tae the toon centre. The hoose where the party wis being held hid been in full swing by the time they’d arrived. The first person they’d bumped intae hid been Maureen Clark, presenter ae Scotland’s answer tae Top ae The Pops, wae her man, who looked aboot ten years aulder than her, Michelle thought, smiling tae hersel. Everywan knew Jake and hid gied him a big welcome. She couldnae believe the amount ae fitba stars that hid been there, wae aw these beautiful models hinging aff ae their erms. Although she couldnae remember aw their names, she’d seen hauf the people present oan the telly o’er the past few months.

  “Ah feel frumpy in amongst aw these stunning wummin, so Ah dae,” she’d murmured tae Jake self-consciously, haudin oan tae his erm.

  “Ur ye joking or whit? There isnae a lassie in here who’s a patch oan you. Ah know who Ah’d choose tae take hame wae me,” he’d said tae her, no in any sleazy way, bit wae a genuine warmth in his voice, as they’d looked in tae each other’s eyes.

  “Here ye go then,” a bare-naked Jake announced, appearing in the doorway, his semi-erect dick slapping aff ae each thigh as he walked towards her oan the bed, placing the ashtray oan the sheet that wis covering up her boobs.

  “Y’know, there’s something disgustingly sexy aboot how you jist walked intae the bedroom,” she purred, laughing, as he aboot turned and gied her a repeat performance, only this time, he exaggerated the walk by swaying his hips fae side tae side and thrusting oot that crotch ae his in front ae himsel.

  “Is that better?” he asked, sliding intae his side ae the bed, tae lie facing her wae the side ae his heid resting oan his upturned haun.

  “That wis amazing, Jake.”

  “Ach, ye’re gonnae make me blush noo,” he said.

  “Ah meant the meal, the people at the party…in fact, the sex wisnae that bad either,” she said, feeling her cheeks flush, as she took a drag ae her fag and turned roond tae face him.

  “Wis it better than it wis wae Johnboy?” he asked nonchalantly.

  “Whit?”

  “Ye heard me.”

  “Jake, Ah cannae believe whit ye jist asked me, so Ah cannae. That’s disgusting, so it is. Whit kind ae thing is that tae say tae somewan?” she gasped, genuinely shocked, sliding away fae him.

  “Whit?” he asked, laughing.

  “Honestly, Jake. Ah cannae bloody believe ye jist asked me that…Ah don’t know whit tae say…honestly…and anyway, it wis that long ago…Ah cannae even remember,” she replied defensively, clearly embarrassed.

  “Aw, fur Christ’s sake, Michelle, Ah wis only joking. Ah know you and Johnboy hid a wee skirmish and that ye didnae go oot wae each other fur any length ae time.”

  “Well, put it this way, he didnae need tae snort anything up that nose ae his tae get it up, if that’s whit ye’re asking me,” she retorted, bursting oot laughing at the shock oan his face.

  “Whit dae ye mean?”

  “Ah mean, that wee length ae mirror wae the white crumbs oan it that’s sitting through in yer kitchen looks exactly like the same wee mirror full ae white powder that that Maureen Clark and her TV pals wur snorting aff ae big-style in the bathroom at the party,” she replied, laughing again at the surprised look oan his face.

  “Aye, it’s well seeing yer da is a bizzy, so it is. Mind you, Ah suppose Ah deserved that, so Ah did,” he said, grinning.

  “So, whit is it…that stuff?”

  “Coke.”

  “Coke?”

  “Cocaine.”

  “Kin Ah try some?”

  “It’ll turn ye intae a sex maniac, so it will,” he warned her, failing tae keep his face straight.

  “Jake, no that Ah’ve hid that much practice, bit that wis the best sex Ah’ve ever experienced in ma life…and Ah’m no jesting either. Christ, Ah’m scared tae staun up in case ma legs gie way.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Honestly.”

  “Well, in that case, how could a manky beast like me refuse a request like that,” he said, jumping oot ae the bed and disappearing alang the lobby.

  Michelle sat cross-legged as he put a pillow oan his knees wae the mirror oan tap ae it. Using a Blue Gillette razor blade, he separated oot four lines, chopping it, and then rebuilding the lines several times before he wis satisfied. When he wis finished, he opened the drawer beside his side ae the bed and lifted oot a twenty pound note, rolling it up intae a tube.

  “Ah’ll hiv wan first jist so ye kin see whit Ah’m daeing. Noo, remember, don’t snort it too hard or ye might end up sneezing it back oot. Nice and gently dis it,” he murmured, bending o’er.

  Jake held the rolled note in his right nostril and gently snorted up a line, as Michelle sat, watching his every move.

  “Kin Ah hiv a go?” she asked, a wee nervous quaver in her voice.

  “Aye, bit before ye dae…if ye’re gonnae hing oot wae me, we’ll need tae dae something wae that gear that ye’re kicking aboot in. Ah’ll speak tae Kim Sui this week and she’ll get ye decked oot wae mair flattering clothes that’ll accentuate that gorgeous hairstyle and that beautiful body ae yers,” he said, looking her straight in the eye.

  “Ur ye serious, Jake? Ye mean…ye still want tae see me again efter the night?”

  “Michelle, Ah don’t know how the fuck it happened, bit Ah’m totally smitten by ye, so Ah am,” he replied, laughing at her, haunin her the twenty pound note and haudin up the wee mirror tae make it easier fur her.

  As she leaned o’er towards him, the sheet covering her breasts slipped doon tae her waist, exposing her firm curves tae him, as he felt the stirring in they loins ae his…again.

  “Good evening. My name is John Turney and these are the news headlines in Scotland tonight.

  Police have confirmed that the man shot outside The Blackbull Picture House in Kirkintilloch’s West High Street on Thursday night, died this morning in Glasgow’s Royal Infirmary, where he had been rushed shortly after the incident. Forty-five-year-old Millionaire, Mr Thomas Brannighan, a father of three and the sole director of Kirkintilloch Driving School, never regained consciousness. Tonight’s news can exclusively reveal that Mr Brannighan was a major underworld figure in the West of Scotland and was known in underworld circles as The Driving Instructor. Mr Brannighan was also known to be the biggest supplier of Horseman Thief Pouter pigeons in Britain. Police have refused to confirm whether they believe the motive for the murder was drug-related. Police are urging anyone with any information to contact them on…

  Bus drivers and clippies in the city have announced an all-out walkout on Friday and Saturday nights for the next four weekends after another weekend of violence in which three of their colleagues were assaulted whilst on duty in and around George Square last weekend…

  The City’s Police Traffic Superintendent, John Bower, stated at a press conference today that police throughout the city have searched nearly five hundred garages and lock-ups since the man known as The Silver Arrow took to the streets, tempting the police to catch him, in and around The West End of the city. Superintendent Bower justified the resources being put into the investigation by stating that Glasgow’s pride as the second city of the empire was at stake and that members of the public should see The Silver Arrow for what he is…a criminal breaking the law. When asked what he thought of the revelations that, in a recent survey, two thirds of the city’s male pupils aged between six and twelve said they wanted to be like The Silver Arrow when they grew up, Superintendent Bower stormed out of the press conference accusing the press of giving The Silver Arrow myth status…

  A young girl of fifteen was attacked and sexually assaulted as she walked along Argyll Street at nine thirty last night. Police say that the girl was lucky as a driver of a passing vehicle and his passenger
came to the girl’s rescue after hearing her screams. The man, who police described as in his thirties, has long black hair, tied in a ponytail and was wearing…”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Whit time’s it?” Jean groaned, trying tae shield her eyes fae the glare ae the bare light bulb, peeping oot fae the bottom ae the lampshade oan Peter’s side ae the bed.

  “Hauf seven.”

  “Fur Christ’s sake, Peter, whit time did ye get in at?”

  “Ah’m no sure…hauf three or four…something like that.”

  “Why so late?”

  “We hid tae clear stuff oot ae storage and shift it elsewhere. Whispering Bob telt me he spotted that pair ae eejits, Hope and Glory, snooping aboot the lock-ups earlier in the week. That Silver Arrow prick is putting pressure oan everywan. The bizzies ur turning o’er aw the lock-ups in the city. Ye widnae believe the amount ae stuff that’s being shunted back and forth oan a nightly basis because ae that selfish basturt. Wance the bizzies move oan, aw the gear is moved back in. Talk aboot hassle. The quicker they catch the prick, the better.”

  “Ye’re gonnae hiv tae slow doon or ye’ll end up keeling o’er wan ae these days.”

  “How kin Ah slow doon? Ah’m supposed tae be a runner, so Ah am,” he scoffed, staunin up and opening the wardrobe tae take oot a clean shirt.

  “Whit ur ye daeing getting up at this time oan a Sunday fur anyway?” she asked, rubbing her eyes and sitting up.

  “Look, go back tae sleep. Ah need tae go and see aboot getting a camera.”

  “A camera? There’s wan in the sideboard through in the living room. Ah saw it there the other day there when Ah wis putting stuff away.”

  “Naw, this is a particular camera. Wan that’s wee and kin take pictures in a dark and dingy, cramped space.”

  “Whit the hell ur ye wanting wan that dis that fur?”

  “Nothing…it disnae matter,” he replied, as she swung her legs oot ae bed.

  “Throw me o’er ma dressing gown, will ye?” she asked him, staunin up, stark naked. “Ah’ll go and put the teapot oan…unless ye want tae come back tae bed fur a wee while?” she asked him, smiling.