Bernie was often sent into the city on errands of one sort or another. If he was in a great hurry, Bernie didn’t have time to lock me down in the cellar and he would take me with him instead.
One day Gordon told us to go at once to a pub called Shanley’s Bar and deliver an envelope to a man by the name of Neil Fingus. Bernie obviously already knew the way to Shanley’s Bar and who Neil Fingus was, so he took the envelope with no further questions.
The day was overcast, with drizzle and a biting wind. The quays and wharves along the Broomielaw were busy as usual in spite of the weather. Bernie and I turned right on Cheapside Street and we walked past Mrs Grimes’s boarding house. It seemed a long time since the Chief and I had stayed there and kind Mrs Grimes must have wondered why we vanished without even picking up our belongings.
After walking a while longer Bernie and I reached Shanley’s Bar. Bernie didn’t go in straightaway. He halted at the door, breathing heavily as if he was nervous—afraid even—of what was inside. Eventually he pulled himself together and stepped in.
The pub was small and cramped, the sounds of shouting, laughter and loud arguments echoing around the walls. The floor was slippery with spilled beer. I tucked in close behind Bernie as he pushed his way through the throng. So as not to draw unnecessary attention to myself, I turned up the collar of my overalls and pulled my cap down over my forehead.
Right at the back of the pub were several private booths, one of which was guarded by an ugly man with a crooked nose. He had a short-stemmed pipe clenched in the corner of his mouth and was cleaning his nails with a long, nasty-looking knife. He recognized Bernie immediately and let us through into the booth.
A florid-faced man with a bushy moustache and rolled-up sleeves was sitting at the table, making a note of something in a big ledger that was open in front of him.
When he’d finished writing, he looked up and studied first me then Bernie with icy, expressionless eyes.
“So it’s true what people are saying,” he said. “Moira has enlisted a gorilla in her gang.”
Bernie said nothing and the man went on, “I assume Gordon has sent you here, Bernie? Am I right?”
“Yes, Mr Fingus,” Bernie said.
He took out an envelope and handed it over. Neil Fingus opened it and pulled out a wad of creased banknotes. After counting the money, he made a new entry in his ledger.
“Aha,” he said in a weary tone. “Now I see why Gordon didn’t dare come himself. This is only half of what he owes me. Tell him from me that I want the rest within ten days or he’ll have to accept the consequences. Betting on the horses with borrowed money is a risky business. Particularly when it’s my money you’ve borrowed. Know what I mean, Bernie?”
“Yes, Mr Fingus, I think so,” Bernie said.
Neil Fingus narrowed his eyes and his lips tightened over his teeth—small teeth, stained brown from tobacco.
“And next time I want Gordon to come himself. It’s not polite of him to be sending a thicko and an ape to meet me. It’s not, is it, Bernie?”
“No, it’s not… Mr Fingus,” Bernie stammered.
“Right, get out of here, you two!” Neil Fingus roared, slamming the table with his fist.
Bernie stumbled backwards, almost falling over. He hurried out of the pub with me close at his heels.
That afternoon a load of coal was delivered to Oswald Street and Bernie and I had our hands full the rest of the day carrying in coal for all the fires in the house. We had just finished when we heard that Moira was calling a meeting. The gang was gathering in her office. Bernie and I washed off the worst of the coal dust and went to join them.
Outside the windows the gas lamps along the Broomielaw had been lit, but the big room lay in darkness. Moira, as usual, was sitting behind her desk and Gordon was standing diagonally behind her. He was leaning on the wall with a drink in his hand.
“It’s time to do a job,” Moira said once they were all seated. “The target’s a gambling club. It’s in a house at the north end of Maryhill Golf Course, down by the Forth and Clyde Canal. We’ll strike at night on Christmas Eve, when the club is shut. In all probability the house will be deserted apart from a night watchman on the ground floor. The safe is on the top floor.”
“A safe-breaking job then, is it?” Carl said. “In that case we can take Eddie ‘Bent Finger’ Marlow with us. They let him out just last week so he’ll be keen to get in on a job.”
Moira shook her head and said, “We’re not taking any outsiders. I don’t want more people than necessary to know about the job. We’ll handle this one ourselves.”
She gestured to Gordon and he unrolled two large sheets of paper on the desk. One was a plan of a three-storey building, the other seemed to be a map of the surrounding area. Gordon also had several photographs of the building and a whole bundle of sketches he’d made to show the layout.
The following hours were spent discussing the details of the job. A schedule was drawn up and they made lists of the tools, weapons, clothes and everything else needed.
In summary, the plan was for Carl, Kevin, Bernie and me to make our way to the club by boat along the Forth and Clyde Canal. Carl and Kevin would break into the building through a window on the third floor: climbing up there wouldn’t be difficult as there was a fire escape ladder. Once inside, they’d have to find the safe which—according to their information—was concealed in a secret space behind a blind wall in a closet. The safe was small enough for it to be lifted out through the window and lowered to the ground. Then Bernie and I would take over and carry it to the boat, leaving Carl and Kevin to get out of the house the same way as they went in.
“And you?…” Carl said to Gordon in a sour tone. “What are you going to be doing while the rest of us pull our weight and do the climbing and carrying?”
“I’ll be cutting the telephone wires and spreading broken glass on the road leading to the building in case the night watchman somehow manages to contact the police. Then I’ll drive to the quay at Maryhill Ironworks, where we’ll meet and transfer the safe to the lorry.”
“What about us?” Flintheart wondered, pointing to Skinflint and himself. “What will we be doing?”
“Your job is to get hold of all the equipment on the list,” Gordon said.
Skinflint appeared to be worrying about something. “This club… Is it called the Dionysos?”
Gordon looked at Moira and she said, “Precisely, the Dionysos Club. It’s owned by Ajax Christodoulopoulos. The one they usually call ‘the Greek’.”
I jumped. I’d heard the name of the Dionysos Club before.
That was where Lord Kilvaird had gambled away Shetland Jack’s pearl necklace!
A train passed over the bridge, making the house shake slightly. I heard the ice in Gordon’s drink clink against the glass. Apart from that, Moira’s office suddenly fell silent.
She looked at each of the gang in turn and said, “Well? Anything else you’re wondering about?”
The atmosphere in the office had become tense. The gang exchanged sideways glances. It seemed that all of them were thinking the same thing, though no one dared say it out loud.
“Well?” Moira said again. Carl managed to pluck up the courage.
“Surely the Greek has good protection, doesn’t he? Tommy Tarantello and his West End mob!”
“I’m fully aware of that,” Moira said calmly. “So what?”
“That makes this job extremely risky,” Skinflint said. “Tommy Tarantello is not going to let anyone rob a place he’s been paid to protect. He and his gunmen will turn the city inside out to find out who did it.”
Moira smiled. A smile completely devoid of warmth.
“Tarantello will never suspect us of doing the job,” she said. “Not unless one of you talks, that is. Anyone who’s going to have trouble keeping his mouth shut, put your hand up now!”
No one responded and no hands went up.
Flintheart did, however, speak. “But why do we have to hit the Greek specifically? There are plenty of other places we could break into.”
Kevin, Carl and Skinflint all nodded to show that they’d been asking themselves the same question.
Moira stayed silent for a while before speaking. “OK, you are right. There are certain… very particular… risks to doing this job. And that’s why you’ll get a larger share of the goods than usual. You can divide all the ready cash and share certificates in the safe between you. It’s all yours!”
A whisper of amazement ran around the room and the members of the gang looked at one another in astonishment… and pleasure.
Moira leant back in her chair and added, “But if we find any jewellery in the safe, that belongs to me.”