Later that day Gordon, Carl and Kevin set about trying to open the safe. In the meantime they talked about what they would do with the money they hoped to find in it.
“I’m going to buy a pair of those American shoes with steel toecaps,” Kevin said. “They’re the latest fashion in Chicago, you know. Really smart! And practical when it comes to kicking someone’s kneecaps.”
Kevin’s great dream, which he was forever talking about, was to go to America and become a real gangster like Al “Scarface” Capone or Charles “Lucky” Luciano. Instead of saving for a ticket on a ship to America, however, he wasted every penny he earned going to American gangster films and buying expensive clothes in order to dress like the crooks in the films.
Carl was intending to save his share of the loot. He lived with his ageing father in a small flat south of the river and 251his dream was to have enough money to put him in an old people’s home.
“What a waste of money!” Kevin said. “Why don’t you just take the old fellow down to the Twilight Quay and chuck him in the river? That won’t cost you anything!”
“I know,” Carl said, mulling it over. “I’ve thought about it… frequently, in fact.”
“And what are you going to do with your money?” Kevin asked, turning to Gordon with a malicious grin. “Pay off old gambling debts maybe? From what I’ve heard you don’t have much luck with the horses.”
“If you really must know, I’m going to buy a hat,” Gordon said.
The Greek’s safe proved to be very robust and they were unable to break into it until Gordon got hold of an acetylene torch. Inside the safe they found wads of money and all kinds of valuable objects that desperate gamblers had staked and lost to the Greek. Some of the banknotes had been burnt by the heat of the acetylene torch, but there was plenty left for them to share.
The most valuable item in the safe was Shetland Jack’s pearl necklace, which was undamaged. Moira’s eyes shone when she picked it up. The moment obviously meant a great deal to her, 252not just because the necklace was so valuable. There was something else… something that had nothing to do with money.
Could Moira be Shetland Jack’s daughter after all?
During the days following the robbery, the gang’s mood was tense and wary. They talked in low voices about a man called Tommy Tarantello who, as I soon learnt from eavesdropping on their conversations, was the most feared gangster boss in Glasgow. He and his gang extorted money from shopkeepers and publicans by forcing them to pay for “protection”. Anyone who failed to pay would find their shop windows smashed or their legs broken. Some of Tarantello’s henchmen were members of his own family he’d brought over from the city of Salerno in Italy.
I overheard Gordon saying that these men were now going round the city trying to find out who was responsible for the break-in at the Greek’s gambling club. People who wouldn’t talk were given a beating—as was anyone who tried to be helpful. Tommy Tarantello’s gang was not exactly particular.
Gordon’s view was that we should all stay in the house until the fuss had blown over.
Moira saw things differently: “If Tommy Tarantello gets news that we’re lying low, it won’t be long before we get a visit. Best 253thing is to carry on as if nothing has happened. And our top priority is to plan the Hogmanay celebrations at Lucky Lucy’s.”
The following night we made a chilly trip down the river to deliver stolen goods to the Irish smugglers. On the return journey we put in at Clydebank to collect the two ten-gallon casks of whisky Moira had ordered from an illegal distillery in the neighbourhood. The whisky was destined for the Hogmanay party at Lucky Lucy’s, where hundreds of thirsty guests were expected to come to celebrate the arrival of the New Year. The thought of all the money to be made put Moira and the rest of the gang in the best of moods.
A few days later the gang heard a worrying rumour that was doing the rounds. The Clydeside Shebeen, a rival illegal club, was trying to steal our New Year customers by promising to lay on a famous Dundee knife thrower as entertainment.
“We’ll have to provide entertainment too,” Moira said to Gordon and Lucky Lucy. “And it’ll have to be something better than a knife thrower. Fix it!”
Gordon and Lucky Lucy came up with various suggestions as to artistes they might call on, everything from jesters with unusual deformities to a pair of genuine Sumo wrestlers based in Liverpool. Moira pooh-poohed all their suggestions. 254
“What about a boxing match, then?” Gordon said, looking at Bernie who was stacking chairs at the other end of the club. “I reckon there will be masses of people who’d like to see Bernie the Butcher in the ring again.”
Moira smiled with pleasure and said, “Not a bad idea, Gordon, not a bad idea at all!”
A boxing ring was quickly constructed between four of the pillars supporting the roof of Lucky Lucy’s Club. The whole gang thought it a brilliant idea—all except Bernie. I noticed how his lower lip trembled when Moira told him what was planned.
“You won’t go messing this up, I hope?” she said sternly.
Bernie shook his head without raising his eyes from the floor.
“Good,” Moira said. “Dig out your boxing gloves and start training, and I’ll find a suitable opponent for you.”