expectin ye at the station at hawf eleven themorrow.
So Pesche fuckin squeaked. Fuckin rat. How dis the cunt hiv tae bring ma name intae play, jist cos some cunt stashed some drugs in his shitin pub an’ the cops heard aboot
it? Cunt mentions ma name jist so he kin say he’s answered their question. Total fuckin tube.
9
Ahd tae make a statement at the station an’ sign it. Gross, the plain-clothes guy, wis furious: thought ah wis lyin through ma teeth. When ah held ma haun oot but as ah
wis leavin, he took it, shook it an’ gave it: guidbye an’ thanks an’ aw that.
Mibbe Gross wisnae furious at me at aw, but at himself – cos he’d the kinda joab he his: gets tae spend long eftirnoons wi the likes ae me discussin a few fuckin
grams. Tae think ae aw that talent! He kid be daein summit mair meaninful wi his life.
Okay, so if yiv hid enough run-ins wi the polis an’ the judges an’ the authorities an’ the like, it disnae fuckin matter any mair whether yir tellin the truth or naw. Nae
cunt’s goney believe ye any mair anyhoo, cept mibbe yir cat – if yiv got wan, that is. Cats ur the only fuckers that still believe ye: believe that ivry time ye come hame, yir goney
feed them.
Anyway: ah lied tae nae fuckin cunt. Ah tellt Gross that an’ aw. The truth’s always relative, ah went. An’ if some cunt says: Goalie, be honest tae me noo, ahm bein honest tae
you arent ah, ah aye ask first whit exactly he means by that.
Whit’s honest? Is it honest if ye say tae some cunt who his a really ugly rash oan his face, eh excuse me, yiv got a really ugly rash oan yir face. Is that bein honest? Lookin at it
objectively, it mibbe is. At the same time but, it’s totally fuckin unnecessary. If some cunt assures me, afore he gets tae the point, that he wants tae be honest wi me, that he’s aye
fuckin honest, summit goes
ping
in ma brain, an’ ah tell masel, watch oot, Goalie, it’s wan ae they honest cunts, get ready, mate, all hell’s aboot tae break loose.
It’s the same thing wi the truth. If ah tell Gross, the plain-clothes guy, that ah personally hiv fuck-aw tae dae wi the few grams they found at Cobbles, then that’s ma truth.
Course, there’s mibbe anither truth an’ aw: course, ah fuckin know whose they kid be an’ who – in the Fog – is a drug dealer an’ how much business they dae
an’ whit the street value is an’ where they get it fae an’ aw that. That much wis clear, it wisnae whit we wur talkin aboot but. Course Gross knew that an’ aw, whit wis he
goney dae aboot it but? Stuff dis get shifted here, aye – an’ he’s chasin the crumbs an’ if he dis actually catch some cunt, it’s probably jist some layaboot who wisni
smart enough. See even the wans, the wans jist wan level higher than the tubes oan the bottom rung but – Gross cannae get near them, even.
Ye know summit, Goalie.
Ah know less than nuthin, Herr Gross. Ahm extremely sorry, that’s the wey it is but.
Dont gi’e me any ae yir crap, Goalie. Ah know ye know summit.
Ah know ah kid kill a coffee an’ a smoke.
If ye tell me whit ye know, ah’ll get them tae fetch ye a coffee. An’ mibbe ah’ll make an exception an’ let ye smoke in ma office.
If ah knew summit, ahd hiv tellt ye it long ago, Herr Gross. Ah widnae want ye hivin tae dae overtime cos ae me, whit wi yir wife awready waitin fur ye, wi the dinner ready. Ahm naw comfortable
eether wi the thought ae ye bein late an’ disappointin yir wife cos ae me. Bet ye, she’s an amazin cook an’ aw.
Gross his tae stop himself smilin. Mon, Goalie, go fur it, jist tell me the truth jist. Cannae be that hard, can it?
Which truth dae ye want tae hear?
There’s only wan truth.
That’s a bold proposition, Herr Gross. Will ah tell ye summit? See when we played fitba as schoolboys, back in the day, o’er at the Reitplatz, we used tae use oor schoolbags as
goal-posts. How often dae ye think – when a shot wis waist-high, say -we didnae know hid the baw
So Pesche fuckin squeaked. Fuckin rat. How dis the cunt hiv tae bring ma name intae play, jist cos some cunt stashed some drugs in his shitin pub an’ the cops heard aboot
it? Cunt mentions ma name jist so he kin say he’s answered their question. Total fuckin tube.
9
Ahd tae make a statement at the station an’ sign it. Gross, the plain-clothes guy, wis furious: thought ah wis lyin through ma teeth. When ah held ma haun oot but as ah
wis leavin, he took it, shook it an’ gave it: guidbye an’ thanks an’ aw that.
Mibbe Gross wisnae furious at me at aw, but at himself – cos he’d the kinda joab he his: gets tae spend long eftirnoons wi the likes ae me discussin a few fuckin
grams. Tae think ae aw that talent! He kid be daein summit mair meaninful wi his life.
Okay, so if yiv hid enough run-ins wi the polis an’ the judges an’ the authorities an’ the like, it disnae fuckin matter any mair whether yir tellin the truth or naw. Nae
cunt’s goney believe ye any mair anyhoo, cept mibbe yir cat – if yiv got wan, that is. Cats ur the only fuckers that still believe ye: believe that ivry time ye come hame, yir goney
feed them.
Anyway: ah lied tae nae fuckin cunt. Ah tellt Gross that an’ aw. The truth’s always relative, ah went. An’ if some cunt says: Goalie, be honest tae me noo, ahm bein honest tae
you arent ah, ah aye ask first whit exactly he means by that.
Whit’s honest? Is it honest if ye say tae some cunt who his a really ugly rash oan his face, eh excuse me, yiv got a really ugly rash oan yir face. Is that bein honest? Lookin at it
objectively, it mibbe is. At the same time but, it’s totally fuckin unnecessary. If some cunt assures me, afore he gets tae the point, that he wants tae be honest wi me, that he’s aye
fuckin honest, summit goes
ping
in ma brain, an’ ah tell masel, watch oot, Goalie, it’s wan ae they honest cunts, get ready, mate, all hell’s aboot tae break loose.
It’s the same thing wi the truth. If ah tell Gross, the plain-clothes guy, that ah personally hiv fuck-aw tae dae wi the few grams they found at Cobbles, then that’s ma truth.
Course, there’s mibbe anither truth an’ aw: course, ah fuckin know whose they kid be an’ who – in the Fog – is a drug dealer an’ how much business they dae
an’ whit the street value is an’ where they get it fae an’ aw that. That much wis clear, it wisnae whit we wur talkin aboot but. Course Gross knew that an’ aw, whit wis he
goney dae aboot it but? Stuff dis get shifted here, aye – an’ he’s chasin the crumbs an’ if he dis actually catch some cunt, it’s probably jist some layaboot who wisni
smart enough. See even the wans, the wans jist wan level higher than the tubes oan the bottom rung but – Gross cannae get near them, even.
Ye know summit, Goalie.
Ah know less than nuthin, Herr Gross. Ahm extremely sorry, that’s the wey it is but.
Dont gi’e me any ae yir crap, Goalie. Ah know ye know summit.
Ah know ah kid kill a coffee an’ a smoke.
If ye tell me whit ye know, ah’ll get them tae fetch ye a coffee. An’ mibbe ah’ll make an exception an’ let ye smoke in ma office.
If ah knew summit, ahd hiv tellt ye it long ago, Herr Gross. Ah widnae want ye hivin tae dae overtime cos ae me, whit wi yir wife awready waitin fur ye, wi the dinner ready. Ahm naw comfortable
eether wi the thought ae ye bein late an’ disappointin yir wife cos ae me. Bet ye, she’s an amazin cook an’ aw.
Gross his tae stop himself smilin. Mon, Goalie, go fur it, jist tell me the truth jist. Cannae be that hard, can it?
Which truth dae ye want tae hear?
There’s only wan truth.
That’s a bold proposition, Herr Gross. Will ah tell ye summit? See when we played fitba as schoolboys, back in the day, o’er at the Reitplatz, we used tae use oor schoolbags as
goal-posts. How often dae ye think – when a shot wis waist-high, say -we didnae know hid the baw
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