I switch that shite off and put in a tape, Saxon’s debut album Wheels of Steel, and for many their best. I’m more into Denim and Leather though. I watch Gus’s rubber puppet-face twist in distaste as the boys crank up.
– What a din Bruce! Dinnae ken how ye can listen to that!
– It’s white man’s soul music Gus. We came, conquered and enslaved, I explain.
We get back about an hour later when who should come down into the office but Toal. We agreed two hours; he’s fucking up my crossword time, the helium-filled wank-bag. Toal doonstairs. Toal, here! We are privileged! Normally that spastic never leaves his desk. I never knew the cunt had legs until I saw him one night in the foyer of the King’s Theatre when I was taking the wee yin tae the panto. There’s that cunt Toal just standing there, and he fuckin cold-shouldered me. I mind the bairn asking who he was and me saying, that’s one of the bad men I put away once doll. She frowned at the shit-bag after that!
– Robbo . . . in here, he points to the interview room and shuts the door behind us. – Listen, keep this under your hat, but as you know things are pretty stretched around here, particularly until we get the new D.I. post filled in the reorganisation in the New Year.
My post. But listen tae Toal; making out that he wants one of us on the same grade as him, when he does nothing. Anyway, as things stand I should be on a much higher grade than that imbecile. I would have as well if Carole hadn’t made us fuck off to go to Australia for six bastarding years.
– What I want you to do, in effect, is to lead up the team on the Wurie case. I’ll be around to oversee, but I’m pretty much tied up with this reorganisation bollocks. I got a note from Busby, he’s going to be off for some time yet. I don’t know how they expect me to run this division with an inspector short. Anyway, mind and keep me posted. I want this cracked sharpish.
The toss is trying to butter me up because he thinks that if he makes me responsible for this case then I won’t want to take my break in the Dam. Fuck his memo; I’ll kick up a stink through the Federation and the craft if I have to. Same rules apply. I then have to listen to his smarm about how good an officer I am, and I suppose it’s true.
I want that fuckin promo awright, that inspectorship. It’s mine, my entitlement, in terms of experience. Any cunt in the service’ll tell you that. Fuck me, I couldn’t be any worse than the last waster they made up; nobody could. Busby, suffering from so-called stress. He’s never away fae the fuckin gowf course. No bad for some, he’s goat the welfare spastics twisted roond his finger. I’d gie the useless farting cunt his jotters, then we’d have two inspectorships up for grabs in the division, and it wouldnae cause as much of an atmosphere wi the boys in the cannie. But me: eight wasted years. What did they think I was daein in Sydney aw that time? Playin fuckin tiddly-winks? Counts for nowt, overseas service, under their stupid rules. And cause of her, her that doesn’t know her own mind. Edinburgh Carole: ah want tae be oot thair beside ma mother. Sydney Carole: ah cannae settle, ah miss ma sister. Her sister: the only thing I missed aboot her sister was gettin my hole off her.
– I decided that with your homicide experience, Toal confirms, – you were the man to lead the team. Effectively then, you’ll be acting inspector. We can’t do anything about the remuneration, but if you get a result here it’ll stand you in good stead, for eh . . . the future. You’ll have Inglis, Bain and Drummond on the team, with uniformed officer support.
I detest Toal, but he knows his job. You have to give the cunt that. He slaps me on the arm and I just nod. We leave the room. – It’s settled then Bruce, he smiles.
In the short time it takes to exit thon interview room and stick on the kettle, I realise that the cunt’s almost got away with his flattery bullshit. Toal kens fuck all aboot the job. Promotion or no promotion, I’m offski tae the Dam.
I note that Amanda Drummond’s been hanging around, making out she’s talking to Gus, but really waiting to pounce on Toal. She comes over. – Excuse me Bob, can I have a quick word?
Bob, is it now?
– Sure, Toal says, then turns back to me, – Mind Bruce, what I said.
– Aye, I mumble. I move across to Gus, watching Toal’s chunky frame and Drummond’s matchstick body recede down the corridor. Fuckin Laurel n Hardy right enough. – If he thinks I’m busting a gut about solving this case, he’s fuckin mad, I tell Gus.
– The way I see it, this is aw politics, Gus shakes his heid wearily. I like Gus. He looks like a Jim Henson puppet and he’s yesterday’s man, but I like him. I can afford tae like the cunt. He’s in for the promo as well though. The odds against him? Too high to calculate.
– Damn fuckin right it is. I give up my winter’s week in the Dam, which the cunt knows I have every year at this time, just soas I can find out who topped this coon and get brownie points for a certain Mister Toal? I do look sweet. I look very fucking sweet indeed. No thank you Mr Toal. No thank you Mr Niddrie.
– He’s goat us ower a barrel though Bruce. That inspector’s post fae the reorganisation.
– That’s nowt tae dae wi it! I snap too loudly at Gus, who looks fretful. I’ll have to watch this temper. I backpedal, – He’s goat fuck all tae dae wi whae gits that. You think Niddrie or any ay the cunts on the promotion board’ll listen tae that tube? What does he ken? He kens fuckin nowt! Sum totaclass="underline" the big fuckin zero, I tap my head.
I leave Gus to think about that. The auld cunt really thinks that he’s gaunny get the job. Wrong! Saw-ree! He got too soon old and too late smart. I get on with my crossword in the Sun.
ACROSS DOWN 1Spider’s trap (6) 1Happen (4,5) 4Recontinue (6) 2Trifle, pinball (9) 7Three Wise Men (4) 3Muscle (5) 8Obvious (8) 4Cables (5) 9Stain (7) 5Certain (4) 12Shilling (3) 6Troplcal fruit (5) 14Lubrication applier (6) 10Respond (5) 15Shut (6) 11Greeting (5) 16Definite article (3) 12Onlooker (9) 18Lottery (7) 13Gradually (2,7) 22Dark-haired girl (8) 17Crowd (5) 23Inactive (4) 19In the ascendancy (2,3) 24Made fun of (4,2) 20Sheep cry (5) 25Zodiac sign, the Bull (6) 21Fastening (4)
Nope, it’s not coming today. I turn back to page three.
– Hi Bruce, Gus says, passing over a bag of Crawford’s chips to Peter Inglis, – want tae hear yir stars?
– Aye, awright then. He’s distracted me from Alicia from Hull. Fuckin built, that yin.
– What are you?
– Taurus.
– Right: ‘You’ve bitten off more than you can chew and you are having to muddle through as a result . . .’
– That’s fuckin right enough! And we all know whose fault that is! I point at the ceiling.
–‘. . . Not to worry – this week’s solar eclipse should have cleared away some of the uncertainty surrounding your future . . .’
Ray Lennox has just come in: – Sounds like promotion Bruce, he laughs.