We stepped into a barnyard of a place. Steel columns stretched into the distance like soldiers on parade. In between the columns there were long stretches of workbenches, each attended by row upon row of stools. At the far end there was a small smattering of offices and we made for the last one.
It was locked but, before I could pull the locksmith’s kit from my pocket, George picked up a block of wood from a nearby table and put it through the glass in the door.
Inside I was faced with a steel door on the far wall, not unlike the one in the bookies that I had cut my teeth on. I set to work and once inside I had expected to find a safe but, instead, the room contained rows of small boxes built into the wall, floor to ceiling, each with its own keyhole. I had never seen inside a bank vault but I thought this is what the safety deposit room would look like.
I asked which box we were after and George shrugged and told me to do them all. I gasped — there were easily two hundred boxes and, outside, the light was moving from night to dawn.
I started on my left and it took a few minutes to pop the first one but once I had the measure of the locks, the rest fell with ease. Even so it took over an hour before George called Tony over and examined the contents of the latest box I had opened.
They removed what lay inside and told me to call it quits and we made for the exit and this is when the world went south.
Chapter 10
As we exited the office the first sign of trouble barrelled into the work area in the shape of four men, three armed with crowbars and one with a sawn off baseball bat. They were at one end of the workspace and we were at the other.
As soon as George saw them he reached into his coat, took out the package from the safety deposit box and handed it to me.
‘That way,’ he pointed to a fire escape. ‘We’ll take care of this.’
I didn’t argue. The intruders were eating up ground between us like cheetahs on heat. I put my head down and ran. Behind me there was a brief silence and then a grunt as wood connected with flesh and bone.
I hit the fire escape door at full tilt but in the seventies quick release fire doors were still to be introduced, and I bounced off it — ending up on my backside. The noise behind me was racking up and I grabbed a quick look see.
George and Tony were holding centre stage. George with a cosh that I knew he kept in his jacket and Tony with a lump of two by two he had ripped from a table.
I returned my attention to the door, realised my mistake, flipped the door handle and was gone. Dropping down the metal staircase onto the alley below I struggled to get my bearings, so I mentally flipped a coin and began running.
Soon I was swallowed by the warehouse labyrinth and, after a while my energy levels fell off, forcing me to drop to a walk. I was heaving in air but still kept some pace on. It took me an hour to find my way back to the main road and another twenty minutes to get a cab.
My instructions were simple. If we were split up we were to meet up at Euston Station and if no one was there I was to jump the first train to Glasgow.
Euston was quiet. It was over an hour until the first train was due north and I bided my time by wandering between the toilets and a side entrance — trying to keep a low profile.
With five minutes to go there was still no sign of George and Tony and I boarded the train bathed in sweat.
I breathed deeply as it pulled out of the station.
The journey was long and full of questions but no-one to ask them of. When the train pulled into Glasgow I headed straight for Craig Laidlaw. I took him to one side and told him what had gone down. I handed him the package and he told me to ‘fuck off’ for a while.
Three days later London invaded Glasgow.
I never saw it but I heard plenty. Some of it is now legend. Bar fights, street brawls, one on ones and even shooters. The guys from London were good and well used to a fight but this was home turf for Mr Read and before the day was out the London gang had turned tail and fled.
I was summoned to a rare meet with the victor. He told me I had done well. I thought I had turned chicken by running — go figure. George and Tony were on their way back up — a bit of a mess but they would live.
London was pissed off, Mr Read was basking in it all and I was dying to ask what was in the package that had kicked all this off — but I didn’t have the nerve to ask.
As it turned out I didn’t need to. Mr Read reached into his pocket and took out the small cloth pack that I had carried from London. He opened it up and the world was full of glinting light.
Diamonds, dozens and dozens of diamonds lying in the palm of his hand. I knew nothing of their value but the smile on Mr Read’s face told a story. He reached into the pile, picked out two and handed them to me.
‘Joey will sort you out when you want to trade them in.’
He patted me on the head like a kid, wrapped up the gems and was gone. I was twenty five and I felt like a ten year old. I had just been handed near on a grand’s worth of diamonds.
It was time to move on.
Chapter 11
My step into the big time was not an easy one and I could fill the remaining time we have together with stories of woe and times that were hard. Of how I had to struggle to rise above the mob and sacrifice my every want and desire as I strove for a brighter future. I could but I won’t. I’ll keep to the real juice.
It was late August and the Scottish summer had been the usual mix of pish and rotten. I was recovering from a late one at the Griffin — my new pub of choice and witness to a quiet night out to celebrate a nice haul from a job in Edinburgh.
The next morning I was sitting nursing my head thinking that the share from the London job would put a nice dent in my mortgage when the doorbell rang. I rose expecting to find the postman trying to force fit an unwanted catalogue into my letterbox. Instead I found two men, neither of whom I had laid eyes on before, standing on my doorstep.
They were polite and well dressed and I guessed them for Jehovah’s Witnesses. I told them I was Buddhist but they politely smiled and asked if they could come in. I refused and the smaller of the two reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a gun.
I let them in.
They asked for a cup of tea and I felt it would be a wise move to acquiesce and returned ten minutes latter with two brews and a plate of digestives. They sat and sipped the tea without a word.
I waited, assuming there was a point to the visit. I wasn’t unduly worried about the gun. If they had intended to kill me the job would have been done by now.
‘Do you enjoy working for Mr Read?’
The man with the gun’s accent was laced with a southern lilt.
I didn’t answer.
‘Smart kid,’ said the other. ‘Nice tea as well.’
The man with the gun leant forward.
‘We have a proposition but there’s no going back once you’ve heard it.’
Cryptic. My interest was piqued.
‘Do you want us to go on?’ said the gunman
‘Depends?’
‘It is in your interest,’ said the other.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yip,’ said the gunman.
‘Then proceed.’
‘Good,’ said the other.
A right Laurel and Hardy double act.
‘You’ll be aware of the little incident that took place recently in relation to some unwarranted activity in London by your Mr Read. Well we represent a business that is looking to expand into Scotland. We foresee a small opportunity in this neck of the woods and our clients feel that the recent unpleasantness could have been easily avoided. We are looking for bright capable people who could help us.’
It didn’t take Einstein to figure out what kind of business they represented.
‘We are aware of the standing of Mr Read, and his activities represent a bit of a barrier to our expansion plans. We know you are a loyal employee of Mr Read and…’