The Long Glasgow Kiss

‘I’m not prejudiced. I’ll do business with anyone. Absolutely anyone.’ He paused. ‘Except Fenians, of course. Anyways, this young fighter we’ve got shares in … he’s going places. He has a coupon-mashing right hook. The thing is, he’s been getting a bit of grief.’

‘What kind of grief?’

‘Fucking stupid stuff. A dead bird put through his letterbox, paint on his car, that kinda shite.’

‘Sounds like he’s upset someone. Has he spoken to the police?’

Sneddon gave me a look. ‘Aye … seeing as I have such a cosy relationship with them, that’s the first thing I said he should do. Use your head, Lennox. If the polis start sniffing about then they’ll sooner or later end up on my doorstep or Jonny Cohen’s. We’d both rather keep our investment quiet. It was Cohen what said we should get you to look into it. Discreet, like.’

‘Discretion,’ I said sententiously, ‘is my middle name. So who has he pissed off enough to start a vendetta?’

‘No one. Or no one that he can think of. I mean, he’s hurt a few in the ring, but I don’t think that’s what this is all about. I reckon that someone has put a stash on him to lose when he fights the Kraut and they’re just trying to put the wind up him before the fight. You know, like chucking a fish supper into a greyhound’s kennel the night before the race.’

‘Wait a minute … you said before he fights the Kraut. By Kraut do you mean Jan Schmidtke? Is your boxer Bobby Kirkcaldy?’

‘He’s not my boxer. I own a piece of him, you could say. So what?’

I blew a long, low whistle. ‘That’s a wise investment, Mr Sneddon. Kirkcaldy’s tasty. And you’re right, he is going places.’

‘Oh …’ Again Sneddon smiled the only way he could. Sneeringly. ‘I am so fucking pleased that my business decisions meet with your approval. Cohen and me both lost sleep worrying that we’d gone ahead without your okay.’

I had to admit, Sneddon was much better at sarcasm than McNab. But still nowhere near as good as me.

‘I’m just saying that Kirkcaldy is hot property,’ I said. ‘The stakes are high with him, literally. You got any idea who’s trying to spook him?’

Sneddon shrugged. ‘That’s your job. You find out … if you do, don’t let them know you’re onto them. You want the job?’

‘Usual fees?’

Reaching into his hand-tailoring, Sneddon pulled out his wallet and handed me forty pounds in fives. It was more than most people made in a month but didn’t seem to lighten Sneddon’s wallet too much. ‘There’s another hundred in it for you when you give me a name for who’s behind all this malarkey.’

‘Fair enough.’ I took the money with a smile. It was part of my customer relations policy. There again, smiling when people gave me money came pretty naturally to me. It was a clean job. Legit, like Sneddon had said. All I had to deliver was a name, but I tried not to think too much about what would happen to the face behind the name once I’d delivered it.

‘You said you were talking to Small Change MacFarlane about a couple of fighters. Was Kirkcaldy one of them?’

‘Fuck no. No, it wasn’t nothing in that league. Just a couple of potential up-and-comers, that’s all. Small Change didn’t even know of my interest in Kirkcaldy. You’ve got to fucking watch what you say to bookies. This is Kirkcaldy’s address.’ Sneddon handed me a folded note. ‘Is there anything else you need?’

I made a show of a thoughtful frown, even though the idea had come to me as soon as I had heard mention of Kirkcaldy’s name. ‘Maybe it would be a good idea if you could spring me a ticket for the big fight. Means I can check out anyone dodgy.’

‘I would sincerely fucking hope that you’ve got to the bottom of this before then. But aye … I can manage that. Anything else?’

‘If there is, I’ll let you know,’ I said, inwardly cursing that I hadn’t thought of a reason to ask for two tickets.

‘Right. You can fuck off now,’ said Sneddon. I wondered if the freshly minted Queen followed the same court etiquette. ‘And don’t forget to have a sniff about for Small Change’s appointments book. I’ll get Singer to drive you back to your car. You know Singer, don’t you?’ Sneddon beckoned across to the Teddy Boy who’d driven me and Twinkletoes out to the farm.

‘Oh yeah … we chatted all the way over here.’ I leaned forward conspiratorially. ‘To be honest, I found it difficult to get a word in edgewise …’

Sneddon gave me another of his sneers-or-smiles. ‘Singer’ certainly didn’t seem to like my witticism, I could have been becoming paranoid, but I thought I detected even more menace in his lurking.

‘Aye …’ said Sneddon. ‘Singer’s not much of a conversationalist. Not much of a singer either come to that, are you, Singer?’

Singer interrupted his lurk long enough to shake his head.