A short time later we were all waiting at the door of Moira’s office. Apart from Gordon and Lucky Lucy, the whole gang was present. Gordon was already in with Moira and Lucky Lucy had her hands full keeping the Kingston Kings in a good mood.
By this point most of us understood what the meeting was going to be about. Possibly even Bernie understood. So nervous glances were exchanged, though no one said anything.
We heard the approach of footsteps and the door opened to reveal Gordon. His unshaven face had the same grey tinge as dish water. His eyes moved slowly across our faces, before he stepped aside and allowed us to enter.
Moira was waiting over by one of the windows that faced out towards the Broomielaw. Even though she was facing away from us we could see she had reached breaking point. Her shoulders were tense and her whole body was shaking slightly, as if she was trembling. 386
The chairs in front of her desk were scattered untidily.
“Sit down,” Gordon said before taking his usual place diagonally behind Moira’s desk chair.
After another minute or so, Moira turned round. I’ll never forget the look she gave us. It wasn’t so much anger. Nor disappointment.
Her face exuded hate.
In her hand she was holding a large revolver. She walked across the room with quick, stiff steps and locked the door from the inside, before putting the key in the pocket of her suit jacket. Then she went to her desk and after gathering her thoughts she said, “No one will leave this room—no one, until I’ve discovered which of you warned Tarantello about our planned raids.”
A lengthy silence followed, and then Skinflint cleared his throat. Moira turned her eyes and the muzzle of the revolver on him.
“Yes, Mr Flint?” she said. “What is it you’ve got to say?”
Skinflint swallowed hard, his large Adam’s apple bobbing under the yellowish skin of his neck.
“Well…” he said, “isn’t it possible that it was one of the Kingston Kings who grassed to Tarantello?”
There was a click as Moira cocked her revolver.
“Mr Flint,” she said slowly. “If you… or anyone else here… 387tries to shift the blame to the Kingston Kings again, I’ll shoot them. Understood?”
Skinflint gave a stiff nod.
“Good,” Moira continued. “None of the Kingston Kings knew which targets we were going to attack. But you lot did—only you! So the traitor is here. Among you!”
The silence that followed lasted an eternity. That’s what it felt like, anyway. Some kept their eyes fixed on the floor. Others glanced nervously around without settling their eyes on anything. But after a while they began to exchange furtive looks.
Who was the traitor, then?
Flintheart couldn’t take her eyes off Moira’s revolver. Her face had turned a sickly pale green colour and droplets of cold sweat formed on her forehead: the look of someone frightened for her life.
“What’s the matter, Fiona? Is there something you want to tell me?” Moira’s voice was as cold as ice.
Flintheart’s eyes opened wide in terror.
“It wasn’t me…” she stammered in a shrill voice. “Please, dear Moira, surely you can’t believe… It was someone else!”
“Like who?” Moira asked.
Flintheart licked her lips nervously as she looked around the people in the room. Eventually her nervous gaze settled on Kevin. 388
“Like him!” she said.
They all turned to look at Kevin, who was sitting there wide-mouthed in astonishment and staring at the podgy finger Flintheart was pointing at him.
“Just look at him!” she said eagerly. “Look at how guilty he looks!”
“What? What are you talking about?” Kevin said. “Have you gone mad?”
Flintheart’s eyes narrowed.
“Are you calling me mad?” she snarled. “Are you? Explain how you can always afford to be buying posh, new clothes, then? Where do you get that money? Tommy Tarantello perhaps. We all know how much you admire him. ‘Tommy Tarantello, Glasgow’s very own Al Capone’… Isn’t that what you’re always saying?”
The blood drained from Kevin’s lips as he pulled his face into an angry grimace. He got to his feet and tried to extract his stiletto from his pocket. Skinflint leapt up to defend Flintheart, but it was unnecessary—Carl had grabbed Kevin’s jacket and pulled him back into his chair.
“You witch! You fat little witch!” Kevin shrieked furiously at Flintheart while trying to break free from Carl’s grasp. “I’m not the traitor! Perhaps it’s you? You never stop whining about how little Moira pays you and Skinflint. ‘We do all the work 389and Moira takes all the money’—that’s what you’re forever saying, isn’t it?”
Flintheart looked at Moira, terror in her eyes.
“He’s lying! Trust me, Moira… You do, don’t you? Surely? Tarantello has probably promised Kevin that he can join his gang!”
Kevin made another attempt to get to his feet, but was pulled back by Carl.
Flintheart was now yelling with such force that spit flew in all directions. “Don’t give yourself airs, Carl! It could be you who’s the traitor! You’re always after money to pay for a home for your old father, aren’t you? Aren’t you? Has Tarantello offered to help you out? In exchange for being his snitch!”
Carl released Kevin and shot out of his chair to go for Flintheart himself. Now Gordon and Skinflint became involved and managed to stop Carl.
“Calm down!” Gordon said in his sternest voice. “This is all stupid nonsense!”
By now Flintheart’s face was as bright red as starboard lights.
“Not as stupid as you are, betting away all your money on horses!” she shouted at Gordon. “How much do you owe that Neil Fingus, for instance?”
“Exactly, Gordon,” Kevin joined in. “And Neil Fingus is one of Tommy Tarantello’s bookmakers, isn’t he?” 390
Gordon gave Kevin an angry stare.
“Now I see it!” Carl said. “It must be you, Gordon, who squealed to Tarantello! To wipe out your gambling debts!”
They all stood up and started yelling and pointing at each other. Bernie and me, slightly to one side, were the only ones to stay in our seats. Bernie had his eyes tight shut and his hands over his ears. His heavy body was rocking back and forth in his chair.
All of a sudden, a shot was fired.
And then two more.
The noise was deafening.