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

matters very much. But not if I’m just a glorified street-sweeper. Filling up Barlinnie like a dustbin. There have to be some times when you don’t just collect the social taxes. You arrange a rebate. If all I’m doing is holding the establishment’s lid on for it, then stuff it. I resign. But I think there can be more to it. One of the things I’m in this job to do is learn. Not just how to catch criminalsbut who they really are, and maybe why. I’m not some guard-dog. Trained to answer whistles. Chase whoever I’m sent after. I’m not just suspicious of the people I’m chasing. I’m suspicious of the people I’m chasing them for . I mean to stay that way.’
    â€˜So?’
    â€˜So Wee Eck. If the law works for them, it should work for him. If he’d died in a penthouse, let’s hear you say the same. You know the life he had. Its patron saint was Torquemada. So the least he deserves is that we should care about his death enough to understand it. Like laying a wee plastic wreath on his grave. Grave? He won’t even have one. His body goes to the Anatomy Department at Glasgow University. I remember Eck telling me years ago he’d tried to sell his body to them for a fiver. Didn’t know that when you’re dead, your body belongs to your next of kin. So they get it free. He even lost out on that one.’
    â€˜When did you join the vigilantes, Jack?’
    â€˜Never. I’m not witch-hunting whoever did it. I just think some understanding is owed. The only healthy climate is the truth.’
    Harkness said, ‘So how do we get there, great white hunter?’ Laidlaw laughed.
    â€˜Don’t ask awkward questions.’
    Bob said, ‘You could advertise: confessions wanted. I’d say it’s your only chance.’
    â€˜I’d like to do something more practical,’ Laidlaw said.
    The attractive young waitress came up and took Laidlaw’s empty glass. She had long, straight black hair and the kind of eyes that always seem to see something just past your face, maybe the dandruff on your jacket. They were dark eyes thatassumed your interest, letting you get on with staring at her if you must. She hovered – waiting to take an order or be discovered?
    â€˜No thanks, love,’ Laidlaw said.
    The other two agreed. The waitress went away. There was a television personality being a television personality at a nearby table. The accompanying group were demonstrating the spontaneity of a studio audience.
    â€˜Another lime-juice and soda,’ Laidlaw said, ‘and I’ll want to audition upstairs. There’s only so much of those the human head can stand. Anyway, we’ve got another call to make.’
    â€˜I’m glad,’ Harkness said. ‘I was beginning to think your idea was to talk a solution to Eck’s death.’
    â€˜We’ll grab something to eat and go out to Pollokshields.’
    â€˜Jack,’ Bob said. ‘Take it easy.’
    â€˜Ignore him,’ Laidlaw said. ‘He hangs about here a lot. I’ll tell the manager.’
    Bob came out with them. The waitress said cheerio almost to them. Outside, Glagow had had a change of mood. It still wasn’t warm but the sky had cleared. Harkness, his hangover gone, had that feeling that weather is subjective. Bob said he was going to the office, ‘Back to sanity.’
    Before they went over to Stewart Street for a car, Laidlaw hovered about the entrance to the Theatre Royal, looking at the billings.
    â€˜Life should be more like the opera,’ Laidlaw said.
    â€˜Why?’
    â€˜You never die without a detailed explanation. If Wee Eck could’ve sung an aria in the Royal, we’d have no problem.’
    They were walking up to cross Cowcaddens Road. Harkness,momentarily dazzled by the brightness of the day, thought about it.
    â€˜I was gee-ven the par-aaa-quat,’ he sang, ‘by Hec-tor