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moaned like some auld decrepit nun when she saw that it wisnae oan the blackboard.”
      “Skull, Ah’ve...we’ve been in here a while noo.  Ah’m no sure that they’ll take ye alang wae me when they come tae get me.”
      “Dae ye no think so?” he asked, surprise in his voice.
      “So, if Ah’m gonnae tell ye whit happened efter the fire, then ye’ll hiv tae sit there and listen and no keep butting in every two seconds or Ah’ll never get finished and there’s mair things that Ah need tae ask ye.”
      “Like whit?”
      “Like, er, kin ye see through lassies’ clothes and see them in the bare buff?”
      “Ye mean, like how Ah know ye’ve goat nice clean white underpants oan?”
      “Fucking hell, so ye kin!”
      “Naw, Ah noticed them fae the back when ye bent o’er tae pick up the tea and cheese pieces that Creeping Jesus brought me.”
      “See, that’s whit Ah mean, Skull, ya baldy wee basturt, ye!  Dae ye want tae know whit happened or no?”
      “Aye, did Ah no jist tell ye that Ah did?”
      “Naw, whit Ah mean is…ur ye gonnae shut the fuck up and let me tell ye or dae Ah hiv tae stoap and start aw the time like that arse ae yours?”
      “Well, hurry up, ya tadger, ye. Kin ye no see that Ah’m aw ears!”
      “Seriously?”
      “Johnboy Ah need tae know whit’s gaun oan and why Ah’m still here,” he murmured, looking aboot the cell wae a pained expression oan that face ae his.  “Jist mind and make sure ye leave nothing oot…and Ah mean nothing.”
      “Well, jist remember, it wis nearly three years ago and Ah wis only ten at the time, so Ah might no remember everything.”
      “And before ye start, whit wis that funny song called again?” Skull beamed.
      “Whit?  Plastic Jesus?”
      “Aye, that’s the wan…Plastic Jesus.  How dis it go again?”
      “Well, the Devil he is big and scary, as long Ah’ve goat ma Virgin Mary, hinging oan the dashboard of ma car…” Johnboy sang, as a big grin appeared across the son ae Mr Magoo’s coupon.
     
     
     

 
    Chapter Four
    Glesga Central Polis Headquarters August 1965.
      “Hello, Central…er, Ah mean, Central Polis Headquarters.  How kin Ah help ye?”
      Silence.
      “Hello? Is there anywan there?  Ye’re through tae Central Polis Headquarters.”
      Silence.
      “Look, Ah know ye’re there…Ah kin hear yer breathing…so, how kin Ah help ye?”
      “Oh, aye, er, right.  Kin Ah speak tae…er, Inspector Toner, hen?” a nervous voice asked.
      “Kin Ah ask who’s calling?”
      Silence.
      “Hello?”
      “Er, jist tell him that it’s…it’s, er, Bingo.  He’ll know who Ah am.”
      “Bingo?  Did ye jist say Bingo?  No wee Bingo Davidson, who left St David’s in nineteen fifty wan tae go up tae The Big Rock?”
      “Whit the fuck?”
      “Aye…ye wur jist above me, in the same class as ma sister, Mary…Mary Muldoon.  Everywan called her The Cleavage oan account ae her big…”
      “Look, hen, Ah…Ah don’t know who ye think ye’re talking tae, bit, Ah, er… never went tae, er, St David’s…or The Big Rock, fur that matter.”
      “Really?  Well, ye sound exactly like him.  Mind you, that wis a fair few years ago noo.  God, and here’s me thinking Ah’d recognise a voice anywhere…wance heard.  It jist goes tae show ye how wrang a person kin be, eh?”
      “Look, Ah’ll need tae go.  Kin ye jist tell Inspector Toner that Ah’ll maybe catch him later…”
      “Naw, naw, wait…don’t go, son.  Ah’m only trying tae carry oot the new instructions tae aw us telephone operators, tae be a bit friendlier tae members ae the public when they phone in tae Central.  Seemingly, there’s been a few wee complaints recently aboot the attitude and responses fae some ae the lassies doon here, wid ye believe?” the switchboard operator said, drapping her voice doon tae a conspiratorial whisper. “Mind you, Ah’ve goat a fair idea who