Read Online The Papers of Tony Veitch by William McIlvanney - Free Book Online

Ah’ve ever saw. Rin-Tin-Tin wi’ elephantiasis. Get there, no money. Gonny set his dog on me. Ah steps oot the cab. Before ye could say Jack Robinson, he’s hit me the awfiest kick in the knackers. Oot the gemme completely. Ma balls were like wattermelons. Ah wis walkin’ aboot like a cowboy for a week, wasn’t Ah? But he wisny clever. Knew roughly where he stayed, didn’t ah? Couple o’ the mates an’ me pay a wee visit, wait for him. We played at keepie-uppie wi’ his heid. Don’t worry about it. Big guy. He wis squealin’ like a pig. Left his face like a jigsaw-puzzle. Wan o’ his lugs had nostrils by the time we stopped. Correct. This is a nice wan, boays.’
    He turned up the music and hummed along with it briefly.
    â€˜Aye, ye meet some fuckin’ lunatics in this job.’
    In the mirror Harkness watched the driver’s eyes contemplate the incidence of insanity with a kind of cosmic dyspepsia. There was a certain relief in realising they were almost at their destination. He couldn’t hold in his laughter.
    â€˜Aye. Ye learn to trust nobody. Some o’ them wid massage yer head wi’ a screwtop as fast as look at ye. The world’s a shambles.’
    â€˜Your tip’s on the meter,’ Laidlaw said as he paid.
    Harkness realised that Laidlaw was justified. Behind his distracting talk, the driver had followed an unnecessarilycircuitous route. But the man looked at Laidlaw as if deciding whether to fight a duel with him.
    He flicked on his ‘For Hire’ sign and took off. Harkness imagined him cruising round Glasgow like a mobile manic broadcaster, Radio Armageddon, meter ticking like a time-bomb.
    â€˜We’ll get this to the lab,’ Laidlaw said and suddenly was laughing.
    He pointed helplessly after the departing taxi, shaking his head. Harkness nodded, buckled beside him.
    â€˜How about that?’ Harkness managed to say.
    â€˜Like going over Niagara in a taxi.’
    â€˜I wonder what happened in Blackhill?’ Harkness said.

 
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    10
    T he Top Spot, in the same building as the Theatre Royal, had changed since the theatre had been taken over by the Scottish Opera. But its continued nearness to the new Scottish Television building meant that it still got a lot of its clientele from there. Bob Lilley by-passed the public bar and went downstairs, where the arched alcoves and beer-barrel bottoms stuck on the wall to advertise Lowenbrau were like a rough set for The Student Prince .
    The lounge was pleasantly busy. He saw Laidlaw sitting with Brian Harkness at one of the metal-topped tables. Harkness was saying something that Laidlaw didn’t seem to agree with. When Bob joined them, Laidlaw waited a few minutes and then said, ‘What do you have to do to get a drink here? Wear make-up?’
    Harkness and Laidlaw had been talking again about the post-mortem Laidlaw had attended that morning. Harkness was glad Bob had come in.
    While Laidlaw was at the bar, Harkness shook his head at Bob. Bob sat down and looked along at Laidlaw. He saw a tall, good-looking man who didn’t look like a policeman, didn’t look forty, staring at the gantry as if it was the writing on thewall. That preoccupied intensity was such a familiar aspect of Laidlaw to Bob that he wondered what was bothering Harkness.
    â€˜It’s not a bee in his bunnet Jack’s got,’ Harkness said. ‘It’s a bloody hive.’
    Sharing an office with Laidlaw, Bob was as close to him as anybody, with the exception of Harkness, although sometimes Harkness wondered. He had known Laidlaw for about a year and still found his presence a lucky dip from which any chance remark could draw a surprising response. He was about as easy to explore as the Louisiana Purchase. Among the other men on the Squad, Bob had appointed himself Laidlaw’s defence counsel, a function which must have sometimes felt like a full-time job in