‘Jumbo?’ said Cooper.
Jumbo was up and standing by him in a second. ‘Mr Cooper?’
Cooper held out a quid. ‘Away and get me some fags.’
Jumbo looked down at the open packet on the table, fifteen or so left in it. Was about to say something then didn’t. Took the money and headed for the door. McCoy watched him go, waited until he’d left before he spoke again.
‘You sure you’re okay, Stevie?’ asked McCoy.
A flash of anger. ‘How many times do I have to tell you? I’m fine. Stitches are out. All fixed, raring to go.’
He leant forward, put on a posh woman’s voice. ‘And how about you, Mr McCoy? Has this event affected you psychologically?’
McCoy shook his head. ‘Shows how much you know. Psychologist was a man. And from Shettleston of all places, had more of a Glasgow accent than I do.’
Cooper laughed, leant behind him to get another couple of beers from the crate. ‘You doing that Celtic lad by the way?’ he asked.
McCoy nodded. ‘You hear anything?’
‘What’s to hear? Scobie lost control of that nutter Connolly a long time ago. The guy’s a fucking psycho. He cannae find him now either, got all his boys running about town like blue-arsed flies.’
‘How come Connolly’s gone off the rails all of a sudden?’ asked McCoy. He wanted to know what Cooper knew; easiest way was to act daft.
Cooper looked dismissive. ‘Everyone knows that. Elaine Scobie. Cannae leave the lassie alone. He’s obsessed.’
‘You know her?’ McCoy asked.
Cooper shook his head. ‘No really. Used to see her around couple of years ago, out and about in the town. Used to like the nights out. Liked the bad boys too.’
McCoy looked puzzled. ‘Charlie Jackson wasn’t a bad boy.’
‘Nope, pure as the driven snow him, good player as well. Every father-in-law’s dream.’ Cooper shifted himself in his seat, winced. ‘That Elaine wised up right enough.’
‘What? She had enough of the single life?’
Cooper snorted. ‘Aye right. All she’s doing is making sure Daddy leaves her the money. Settled down with a Celtic player, started staying in nights watching the telly. What more could Scobie want? Got cancer, I hear. Year at the most. Gonnae be a war in the Northside when he goes. Place’ll be up for grabs.’
‘Thought Bertie Waller was all set to take over,’ said McCoy.
‘Aye well, that’s what Bertie Waller thinks, but Bertie Waller’s just another stupid old cunt.’ He shook his head, looked at him.
‘What the fuck am I telling you this for? Doing your job for you. You polis know bugger all about bugger all.’
‘So this a social visit, is it?’ asked McCoy. ‘Concerned for my mental state, were you?’
Cooper shook his head. ‘No, it’s not, and am I fuck so don’t come the cheeky cunt.’ He sat back in his chair, winced again. ‘You know something? There’s fuck all to do when you’re lying in your hospital bed for three weeks. Boring as fuck. Especially when your pals don’t even come and visit you—’
‘Stevie, I—’
‘Can it. You’re forgiven. I don’t blame you. I wouldnae go near a hospital unless I had to.’
‘You sure you’re okay, though?’ asked McCoy.
‘Christ! How many times? Fit as a fiddle. Never better. Dirty big scar on my back but the lassies seem quite taken with it. Wounded bloody soldier.’
Cooper never was a very good liar; that’s why he hardly ever did it. Hadn’t got any better.
‘So what’s with Jumbo then? How come he’s a fixture?’
Flash of anger across Cooper’s face. ‘Jumbo carries things. That’s what. That okay with you?’
McCoy held up his hands. ‘Just asking.’
‘Asking too bloody much. You ask Murray to get rid of Naismith like I asked you?’
‘I’ve been off work, Stevie. I haven’t seen him. I can—’
‘Don’t worry. It’s done. No thanks to you. The stupid cunt got himself caught with half of bloody Watches of Switzerland in his office. He’ll get a couple of years at least.’ He nodded over at the empty chair by the budgie. ‘Hence Jumbo. Nothing like that is gonnae happen to me. From now on I’m holding nothing, carrying nothing.’
‘Good idea,’ said McCoy.
‘Aye well, I’m full of them the day.’ He reached into the pocket of his Harrington, took out a folded bit of newspaper and held it out to McCoy. ‘As I said, not much to do in the hospital. So you end up reading the paper.’
McCoy took the paper, unfolded it. Was half a page of the Herald. Cooper must have been really bloody bored if he was reading the Herald. A picture taken at some function in the Central Hotel. Four middle-aged men. Three in dinner suits, one in a dress police uniform.
POLICE CHIEF RETIREMENT DINNER
McCoy didn’t know what he was supposed to be looking at. Looked over at Cooper.
‘The polis,’ he said. ‘Look at him properly.’
McCoy took another look. Just made it to the kitchen sink before he was sick.
EIGHT
By the time he left Cooper and got back to the flat McCoy was running late, very late. He held up his hands in acknowledgement, said sorry as he came into the flat, already taking his jacket off. Susan looked like thunder. He got his orders. Had to be washed, shaved and into the new suit and tie in ten minutes.
He hurried into the bathroom, took his shirt off and ran the hot tap, got his shaving foam out the wee mirrored cupboard. He pressed the can, squirted the foam onto his hand and spread it round his chin.
Cooper had been quiet, persuasive. None of his usual bluster and threats. He said it was simple. What had been done was done. Nothing could change it. All that was left was revenge. And they were the ones to do it.
He pulled the razor down his face, scraping noise against the bristle, waved the razor in the water in the sink.
He had listened to Cooper, agreed with what he was saying, and then he had said no. He was as surprised as Cooper was. For the first time in his life he had said no to Stevie Cooper. He couldn’t do it. The past was the past. Gone. And he wasn’t going back there, not for anyone. No matter what had happened. No matter how angry Cooper got. No matter how many threats he made.
He rubbed the remains of the shaving foam off his face with a towel. Looked at himself. A thirty-year-old man, a detective, shaving himself at his girlfriend’s flat. Whatever had happened, he had moved on. He had managed to leave it behind and that’s where he needed it to stay.
He dragged a comb through his wet hair, brushed his teeth.
Funny thing was he felt calm, not what he had expected at all. Decision had been made. Case closed.
He walked through to the kitchen and presented himself for inspection. Only one nick on his neck, suited and booted and ready to go. Susan had a dress on, wee flowers all over it, deep neckline, had her hair up, looked a million dollars. She looked McCoy up and