efter whit happened tae that auld man ae his and took up a less dangerous career,” Mickey said, drapping his eyes, efter getting a withering look fae Daddy.
“Is that the wan that droont?” Dave McGovern asked.
“Aye, he wis a famous big-time lawyer back in the fifties and early sixties until he fucked up. A right ducker and diver, so he wis. He represented a mad dog who escaped being hung, only fur him tae get let oot oan a technicality and go oan tae kill some poor auld geezer. The papers turned against Portoy. He hit the booze big-time until he wis persuaded tae resurface and defend wan ae that wee manky mob’s maws. He ran rings roond that stupid prick who sat oan the bench at the time, JP Donnelly, the crooked councillor, so he did.”
“Aye, everywan thought that that wis the start ae auld Harry’s comeback until he goat fished oot ae the Clyde.”
“Aye, it wis the best dive he ever made,” Mickey said, drawing laughter, particularly fae the braids aroond the table who’d been aboot at the time.
“Anyhow, where hiv we goat tae then, Chic?” The Chief asked, deflecting the conversation back tae the present.
“It’s aw conjecture, bit Paddy thinks something’s gaun oan between The Mankys and The Simpsons. We’re no sure whit it is, bit if Toby Simpson’s coming and gaun aboot the pubs in Springburn, something’s definitely amiss, so it is.”
“Where’s Pat Molloy, The Big Man, in aw this?” Bobby asked, as the room went quiet and everywan looked across at Daddy.
Everywan knew that it wis Pat Molloy who’d brought doon Daddy’s predecessor, Sean Smith, wae hauf the inspectors and sergeants in the city and umpteen cooncillors and Corporation officials, in the late sixties oan corruption charges. The Stalker shuddered, remembering that time aw too clearly. Molloy hid managed tae somehow get a haud ae a ledger full ae names and financial figures, detailing who hid goat a cut fae the proceeds ae back-haunders and extortion. The basturt hid passed it oan tae Sir...noo Lord Frank Owen, the owner ae The Glesga Echo and the rest wis history. The newspaper magnate hid become a lord because ae his investigative corruption exposures in the paper. Daddy Jackson, Billy Liar and Mickey Sherlock hid jist been a hairy baw away fae ending up in the Bar-L wae the rest ae the accused, bit hid managed tae wangle themsels oot ae it, somehow. Ralph Toner, who’d been the heid ae the Criminal Intelligence Department at the time, hid ended up oan twenty-four-hour protection up in Peterheid efter being sent doon fur five years. Baith The Stalker and Bumper hid been suspended fur aboot six months at the time, bit hid managed tae persuade the ootside investigation team that they wur honest coppers who wur committed tae law and order. A lot ae good people hid been flushed doon the toilet.
“That’s whit Ah wis wondering masel, Bobby. Ah thought Springburn wis part ae his flourishing empire,” Daddy mused, biting oan his bottom lip.
“He’s still gaun strong. He’s still goat that big swanky hoose oot in Newton Mearns. Ye won’t hiv clocked him oot and aboot much these days because him and Wan-bob Broon ur supposedly oot in Spain, although his boys, under the command ae Shaun Murphy, ur still active enough. We’ve been trying tae bug Molloy’s big fancy hoose fur years, bit we cannae find anywan stupid enough tae break in and place a bug where it widnae get found,” Mickey Sherlock, guru ae serious crime and intelligence volunteered.
“If he’s still as strong as ye say, Mickey, then why the fuck is he letting The Simpsons walk aboot up in Springburn? That’s whit Ah want tae know,” Daddy asked, a puzzled frown appearing between his eyebrows.
“Ah heard that he’d retired, at least that’s whit the whisper wis daeing the roonds up in Possil,” Duggie Dougan informed them.
“Is that no whit the Serious Crime Squad ur
“Is that the wan that droont?” Dave McGovern asked.
“Aye, he wis a famous big-time lawyer back in the fifties and early sixties until he fucked up. A right ducker and diver, so he wis. He represented a mad dog who escaped being hung, only fur him tae get let oot oan a technicality and go oan tae kill some poor auld geezer. The papers turned against Portoy. He hit the booze big-time until he wis persuaded tae resurface and defend wan ae that wee manky mob’s maws. He ran rings roond that stupid prick who sat oan the bench at the time, JP Donnelly, the crooked councillor, so he did.”
“Aye, everywan thought that that wis the start ae auld Harry’s comeback until he goat fished oot ae the Clyde.”
“Aye, it wis the best dive he ever made,” Mickey said, drawing laughter, particularly fae the braids aroond the table who’d been aboot at the time.
“Anyhow, where hiv we goat tae then, Chic?” The Chief asked, deflecting the conversation back tae the present.
“It’s aw conjecture, bit Paddy thinks something’s gaun oan between The Mankys and The Simpsons. We’re no sure whit it is, bit if Toby Simpson’s coming and gaun aboot the pubs in Springburn, something’s definitely amiss, so it is.”
“Where’s Pat Molloy, The Big Man, in aw this?” Bobby asked, as the room went quiet and everywan looked across at Daddy.
Everywan knew that it wis Pat Molloy who’d brought doon Daddy’s predecessor, Sean Smith, wae hauf the inspectors and sergeants in the city and umpteen cooncillors and Corporation officials, in the late sixties oan corruption charges. The Stalker shuddered, remembering that time aw too clearly. Molloy hid managed tae somehow get a haud ae a ledger full ae names and financial figures, detailing who hid goat a cut fae the proceeds ae back-haunders and extortion. The basturt hid passed it oan tae Sir...noo Lord Frank Owen, the owner ae The Glesga Echo and the rest wis history. The newspaper magnate hid become a lord because ae his investigative corruption exposures in the paper. Daddy Jackson, Billy Liar and Mickey Sherlock hid jist been a hairy baw away fae ending up in the Bar-L wae the rest ae the accused, bit hid managed tae wangle themsels oot ae it, somehow. Ralph Toner, who’d been the heid ae the Criminal Intelligence Department at the time, hid ended up oan twenty-four-hour protection up in Peterheid efter being sent doon fur five years. Baith The Stalker and Bumper hid been suspended fur aboot six months at the time, bit hid managed tae persuade the ootside investigation team that they wur honest coppers who wur committed tae law and order. A lot ae good people hid been flushed doon the toilet.
“That’s whit Ah wis wondering masel, Bobby. Ah thought Springburn wis part ae his flourishing empire,” Daddy mused, biting oan his bottom lip.
“He’s still gaun strong. He’s still goat that big swanky hoose oot in Newton Mearns. Ye won’t hiv clocked him oot and aboot much these days because him and Wan-bob Broon ur supposedly oot in Spain, although his boys, under the command ae Shaun Murphy, ur still active enough. We’ve been trying tae bug Molloy’s big fancy hoose fur years, bit we cannae find anywan stupid enough tae break in and place a bug where it widnae get found,” Mickey Sherlock, guru ae serious crime and intelligence volunteered.
“If he’s still as strong as ye say, Mickey, then why the fuck is he letting The Simpsons walk aboot up in Springburn? That’s whit Ah want tae know,” Daddy asked, a puzzled frown appearing between his eyebrows.
“Ah heard that he’d retired, at least that’s whit the whisper wis daeing the roonds up in Possil,” Duggie Dougan informed them.
“Is that no whit the Serious Crime Squad ur
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