Devil You Know Page 8

  A councillor from the estate spoke of his concern over the potential for this incident to escalate further:

  ‘The Machans own half the properties here. They have a great deal of… control. If this is arson, and it wasn’t the Machans who were responsible, if someone else deliberately set fire to their property, do you think they’re going to just let this go? I’m afraid I don’t think so. Not the Machans. They don’t forgive or forget. I think there are people out there who should be hoping that the police get to them before the Machans do.’

  I called Gary back as soon as I’d read it. “I’ve never heard of this Mad Mike. Who is he?”

  “He’s the head of one of the worst gangster families in Glasgow. He started off small time – my dad says he remembers when Mad Mike just ran protection rackets, you know, he made shopkeepers pay him to stop anybody robbing them. Then he would buy the properties of the people he was supposed to be protecting. Didn’t give them much choice: it was ‘Sell, or else…’”

  “On this estate?”

  “To begin with, but then he moved on to big-time drug dealing. But he’s never been convicted of anything. There’s always somebody willing to give him an alibi…”

  “Or else…?” I said.

  Gary quickly agreed. “Aye, Logan, or else. He’s a real bad guy. You don’t even want to know the things he’s done to people who have crossed him. He’s terrifying, Logan. My dad read that article and he said Mad Mike is not going to like the fact he was taken in for questioning. My dad says…” He paused again; I could hear him swallow nervously. “My dad says he’s not going to give up until he gets who did it… And that’s us, Logan.”

  Twenty-Seven

  I lay in bed that night, and couldn’t stop thinking about what Gary had told me. An old man threatening to come after you was one thing, but Glasgow gangsters? And maybe, just maybe, that was what the old man had meant: ‘Don’t for a moment think you’re safe’. We weren’t safe because his sons would come and get us, and his sons were the Machans.

  I’d read about the Krays, those notorious London gangsters, seen programmes about them on television too – the terrible things they’d done to people who stood against them, the terrible tortures they’d inflicted on people. It flashed through my mind as if I was watching a film. But it couldn’t happen in real life. Not to me.

  Still, I couldn’t get it out of my mind that it just might. I almost phoned Baz, but that would have been stupid. I knew what he would say. Could hear him: ‘Hey, Gary told you that? You and Gary, you worry too much, brother. Gangsters? Hey, come on. Get real.’

  Scared of nothing was Baz, at least on the outside. Was he ever as scared as me on the inside?

  By the time Mum came back from her big night out I was sweating with fear. She came into my room. I could see she was a little tipsy. Her face flushed, her eyes sparkling. I sometimes forget how pretty my mum is. She has blonde hair, keeps it short, and has what has to be called a rosebud mouth. That mouth was smiling now. “You not sleeping yet?” She sat on my bed, ran her fingers through my hair, felt the sweat on my brow.

  “You feel a little hot. Are you all right?”

  No, I wanted to tell her. I feel sick, sick and scared. But I said nothing.

  “I love you so much, Logan. You know that, don’t you?”

  At that moment I did know. Had no doubts. She did love me. She’d never stopped loving me. She bent and kissed my brow. “Put your TV off. Get to sleep. It’s late.”

  I looked at her. She was my mother, I should be able to talk to her, tell her my worries. If she really loved me she would do what I wanted, wouldn’t she? “I want to go back to Aberdeen,” I said. Away from here, I was thinking, far away. Away from any fear of gangsters coming after me. They wouldn’t be able to find me there.

  Her tipsy smile disappeared. Her mouth grew tight. Exasperation took its place. “What brought this on?” She shook her head. “I thought you were beginning to like it here. How can you change so quickly?” She let out a long sigh. “We can’t go back, Logan. That’s not possible, son. You know that.”

  Because of Vince, that was why it wasn’t possible. “You care about your boyfriend more than you care about me.”

  “I don’t. You know that’s not true. And he’s my husband, Logan. Why can’t you accept that?” She sighed. “You know why we moved here, Logan. Remember what happened in Aberdeen? All I’ve ever done has been for you. We’re moving away from here soon anyway. We’re going to have a new house. In a really nice area. Vince is just waiting for word about it. You’ll see: things will get better then. I wish you would talk to Vince. You know, he does want to be a father to you.”

  That just made me mad. “I don’t want a father. I had one.”

  “Oh Logan, son. I know how hard it is for you to get over that. But he’s gone. He won’t come back. We both have to face that.” She tried to stroke my brow again. I pushed her hand away. There was no point talking to her. She never listened, not to me. I turned my face to the wall, but she still sat there. Didn’t move until Vince called out to her.

  “Marie, honey?” he was a little tipsy too.

  And of course, when he called, she went.

  “Lights out,” she said, and she closed the door. Giving up on me, way too early.

  Twenty-Eight

  Next evening, once I met up with Baz and talked to him, I felt better. I knew I would. At times like this, when I was scared, he was the one I needed. He was always strong and confident. He was on the walkway, waiting for me when I left the house. I blurted out everything that had been in that newspaper.

  “Nobody saw us, Logan,” he said. “Mate, you worry too much about everything.”

  He was right about that, it was true. I did.

  He slapped me on the back. “That article, it’s like cop propaganda. It sells papers. They have to say something because they can’t catch anybody. So they put the fear of death into you so you’ll give yourself up.” He mocked a posh voice. “‘Just hope the cops get you before the gangsters do.’ Ha! Never heard such tosh.”

  When he said it like that, of course he was right. By the time we met up with the other boys I was filled with as much bravado as Baz.

  Gary looked even more worried than I had been. He began to rattle off to the boys everything he’d told me about the Machans.

  Baz interrupted him. “You’re overreacting. What do you think this is, a Quentin Tarantino movie?”

  Gary got angry. “Even my dad says anybody who touched their properties better watch out. Nobody messes with the Machans. That Mad Mike doesn’t like any involvement with the police. For that alone he’ll find whoever torched that warehouse and come after them, that’s what my dad said. He doesn’t know I’m one of them. I’m too scared to tell him. But he said whoever it is should go to the cops. They’d be safer then.”

  Baz grabbed Gary by the collar. “Well, if the cops come looking for us, we’ll know who to blame.”

  Gary shook himself free. “I’m not a grass. Never would be.”

  “Better not be.” Baz’s voice was cold. He stepped back.

  “We don’t want to be fighting amongst ourselves,” said Mickey. “Come on, no point worrying about something that might never happen.” His dog started barking, as if it sensed the aggression building up between us.

  I was worried that we all might fall apart. And I felt guilty for even thinking it, but I thought Baz would be the cause of it if we did. He didn’t seem to understand how scared we felt.

  Twenty-Nine

  “You went without me,” Baz said. We were walking home having left the other boys to go their separate ways. It hadn’t been a good night. We’d all been on the verge of arguing.

  I’d almost forgotten our day out to Glasgow. “Where were you?” I asked him.

  He didn’t answer, just said, “You might have phoned me.”

  “I did. You didn’t answer.”

  “I never heard the phone.”

  “I did phone,
honest,” I said, as if I needed to prove it.

  Why couldn’t I just say what he would say? Like, Why didn’t you phone me?

  He grunted. “Where did you go?” he asked after a while.

  “Just into the city. You know, cinema then a burger.”

  He only nodded. He was annoyed that we’d gone without him, though he wouldn’t tell me where he’d been.

  “I got there,” he said. “And you lot had flown the coop.”

  I so wished he’d stop talking about it. “Waited for ages for you.” My voice sounded shaky. I could see he wasn’t going to let it go.

  “You could have kept phoning me,” he said again.

  Phones work both ways. That’s what I wanted to say. Why couldn’t I? And know what I said instead? “Sorry.”

  He turned his dark eyes on me, and with that look I knew why I’d rather have Baz as my friend than my enemy. I was scared of Baz. Scared to go against him. Scared to annoy him.

  Then, all of a sudden, his face broke into a wide grin. “I probably had a better time than you anyway.”

  I nodded and smiled back as if I agreed with him. Glad the tension was over. And yet, he still didn’t tell me where he’d been. And I didn’t ask.

  That was the last night I had a good night’s sleep.

  Gary phoned me next day; I’d just come in from school. He was breathless, as if he’d been running. Or as if he was scared. “Meet me at the precinct, Logan? I’m there now.”

  I knew as soon as I saw him something had happened. He was jumping from one foot to the other and his face was ashen.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Have you seen this? Have you seen the news?” He whipped out his phone. I saw that his hand was shaking. “Saw it on the way back from school.”

  He tapped into

  BREAKING UK NEWS.

  MAN’S BODY FOUND

  I read on.

  A man’s body has been found on waste ground in the South Side of Glasgow in what looks like a gangland execution. He was buried in a shallow grave and had one bullet wound to the head.

  I shrugged. “So?”

  “Wait,” he said. He was breathing so fast I thought he was about to hyperventilate.

  He scrolled down and a moment later a photograph appeared. It looked like someone out of Crimewatch: a grainy, unsmiling face staring out of that small screen.

  I almost said ‘Who is this?’ But I didn’t, because there was something familiar in that face. I’d seen it before. Where?

  “Recognise him?” Gary asked.

  I didn’t answer. In that second I knew him. The photo was in black and white, but I could still imagine those so-blue eyes staring out at me.

  Gary answered his own question. “Al Butler. The man at the fire, the guy who torched the warehouse. Remember him now?”

  He’d been smiling that night. Now he’d never smile again.

  Gary snapped his phone off. “Don’t try and tell me now that nobody saw us that night. That we weren’t spotted. ‘Gangland execution’ – that’s what it says. The gangsters got him.”

  I’d never seen Gary like this, shaking, scared. “He was with us, and they got him.”

  “You don’t know that,” I said.

  “Did you see what that report said? It was a gangster-style execution. That was how they described it. Gangland execution. Had to be the Machans. And they’re coming after us next.”

  I tried to calm him down. “He was older than us. A lot older. And look at that photo. It was a mug shot. You said yourself, Al Butler was a well-known criminal. He probably had lots of enemies. We’ve never been in trouble. No mug shots of us. We’re invisible. How could they know we were there?”

  “I’ll tell you how they know. CCTV.”

  “The camera was destroyed in the fire, and the police haven’t even mentioned CCTV.”

  “And I’ll tell you why. My dad told me last night. Something we didn’t even think about. I didn’t even know.” He slapped his head as if he was some dumbnut. “It didn’t matter if the camera was destroyed. It was all going onto a tape, a tape with our faces all over it. The tape isn’t in the camera, it’s not even usually in the same building. And it’ll be the Machans who have got that tape, not the police. That’s why the police have never mentioned surveillance cameras. The cameras weren’t set up by the police or by some security firm, they were set up by the Machans. And we’re all over the tape along with Al Butler.”

  My stomach turned, my mouth went dry. The cameras didn’t matter, not if we were on the tape. “But we didn’t do anything.”

  Gary was shaking with fear. I’d never seen him like this. “We were there with Al Butler. He called us ‘his boys’, remember? We should go to the cops. They’ll give us protection.”

  Baz was all at once at my shoulder as if he’d come from nowhere. His hand shot out and grabbed Gary by the neck. It happened so fast it took him completely by surprise. Me too. “You better not even think that. You try that and I’ll be the one to get you. And I’ll be worse than any of them gangsters.”

  Gary pulled himself free. I stepped in between him and Baz. Didn’t want Baz to grab him again.

  “It will be ok, Gary. We’ll watch out for each other. I’m scared too, but we can’t lose it now.”

  Gary began to back away, but he was shouting at Baz. “What is it with you! You’re crazy!” and then he was gone. His feet pounding on the pavement.

  “You shouldn’t have said that to him, Baz,” I said. “He’s our mate. He’d never betray us. And he was your mate before mine. You should know that.”

  “He goes to the cops he’ll get us all in trouble.” Baz would never admit he’d done anything wrong.

  “Do you think he will? Go to the cops, I mean.”

  He seemed to think about it, then he dismissed it. “Naw. Not Gary. All talk, him.”

  I believed him because I wanted to believe him. But I didn’t sleep that night. Not a wink.

  Thirty

  I wished I could tell someone in my family what I was afraid of – wished I had a family to tell. But my mum was too wrapped up in Vince and her job. And if I told her about this, I’d have to tell her I was there when the fire was started. Too complicated. And I couldn’t go to the police – I’d gotten into too much trouble in Aberdeen. I was on my final warning. Who had told me that? I couldn’t remember.

  If I had a dad… It was at times like this I missed having a dad most. If he was here, I could tell him everything, and in my mind I could see him again, as clear as if he was standing in front of me. I remembered him – smiling, handsome, a bit wild, and if he was still alive all this wouldn’t have happened. I still had faint memories of him taking me places. Fishing and camping and football. Taking me on days out to the shore in Aberdeen. We used to fly kites – I could almost see them again, lifted up by the wind as we ran along the white sands of the beach. He was always there for me. If he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t have moved to Glasgow. I’d still be in Aberdeen. We’d still be a family. Everything would be different.

  I couldn’t confide my fear to Baz. He was the last one I could talk to, and I couldn’t talk to any of the other boys behind his back. That would be a betrayal of Baz, and I couldn’t do that.

  But Lucie was different, in more ways than one. As I waited for her next day, I decided she was the one person I could tell. I watched for her coming along the walkway of her flats, and waved at her. She waved back and came bouncing down the stairs and headed for me. As soon as she saw my face, she knew something was wrong. I obviously can’t hide fear very well. “Got a problem?”

  “Is it that obvious?”

  “Sad thing to say, but I can read you like a book. Not a very interesting one, mind you.”

  That made me smile. “I’m about the only friend you’ve got, Lucie.”

  “Look who’s talking!”

  “I’ve got friends.” Did I snap it out? I think I did.

  She stopped walking. “Are you sure they’re frien
ds?”

  “Yeah, they’re friends. Good friends.”

  “So, Mr Popular-with-all-the-friends, what’s bothering you then?”

  I took a deep breath. “Did you see that photo on television? That man who was murdered.” The story had made the television news the night before.

  She curled her lip. “Been a lot of murders.”

  “You know the one I mean. His body was found in a shallow grave, bullet through the head.”

  “So what’s that got to do with you?”

  “I saw him that night, at that big fire.” It was the first time I had talked about it to anyone besides the boys.

  “Ah,” she said, “it all becomes clear. Were you with him? Did you know him?”

  “Yes to the first. No to the second. But he was there, Lucie, and so were we.”

  I pictured him again, as he was that night, surrounded by fire, his face wild, howling like an animal.

  Did he howl again before the gangsters shot him?

  Lucie put a finger to her brow. She fired an imaginary shot, then blew on her finger. “They say it was gangsters?”

  “Gangland execution.”

  “So, what have you got to do with gangsters?”

  I began to tell her almost everything: about the fire, and about the story I’d read in the paper. “I don’t know how it happened, Lucie. We were all caught up in it before we knew what was happening. But we didn’t do anything, not really. We were just there.”

  It was Baz who dared him to drop the match. But I could never betray Baz by telling her that.

  “I understand, Logan.”

  “I’m scared, Lucie. If it was these gangsters got him…”