The Necessary Death of Lewis Winter (Glasgow Trilogy) by Malcolm Mackay Page A

go to nightclubs. He ain’t a nightclub guy. They roll home pissed. I don’t know if
they’ll have anyone with them. Might. Might not. Best-case scenario, it’s just Winter and Cope. Worst case, they might have a bunch of other people with them.’
    ‘So what’s the plan? Let them wind down?’
    ‘Nah, I don’t want them to be in bed. We let them get into the house. We knock, go in. You get everyone else into one room, I get Winter into another. We make it fast. I want in and
out in two minutes. Just hold them there, then we leave. We don’t need to do anything clever with this one. No complications.’
    George is nodding. No complications is wishful thinking, but it can happen. Sometimes you get hit with all sorts of unforeseen trials. Sometimes everything is exactly as you hope it will be.
George hasn’t been on too many hits – four in eight years before this one – but he’s heard enough. Heard from people like Calum. People who do it for a living. Four or five
a year. Every manner of hit. He remembers Calum from way back, when they first met. Back then Calum was a gawky-looking guy. He lacked self-confidence; he was quiet to the point of antisocial. A
lot of people thought he was being a jerk. Most of them ran their mouths off, partied it up. People slept around, drugs flowed freely. It was a violent, exciting, thrilling and sometimes short
life. The smart ones avoided that.
    Calum and George partied their fair share. They slept around a little, they had good times. It wasn’t what motivated them, though. A lot of people found their way into the business because
they saw the lifestyle and wanted it. People were in clubs and saw young men their own age partying with pretty girls and spending money. The flash kids attracted more new recruits. Yet it
wasn’t the flash kids who ever ended up being successful. They would make money, sure, if they knew how to stay onside. They would never have true responsibility, though. They would never get
a job like Calum’s. You don’t give a job like that to someone with a big mouth. Show-offs end up being seen by the wrong people. But they attract new recruits. Not Calum and George,
though. That wasn’t the lifestyle that had attracted them.
    For George, it had been the chance to do something irregular. He couldn’t settle in a normal workplace. He couldn’t settle in a normal life. Some people are just like that. Itchy
feet. He did the jobs he was given, he made enough money to live on and he drifted through life. He was content. He didn’t need anything more than he had. He didn’t dream of riches. He
didn’t dream of the perfect life. For him, good was enough, and this was good. Calum had similar motivations. He went into the business and did similar work to George. Where George was
working for Jamieson, Calum was essentially freelance. He tended to get worse jobs, more dangerous. He had no safety net. He impressed a lot of people. Before long, he carried out his first hit.
People gradually became aware of the fact that he was a big talent. He stayed freelance, though. He did as few jobs as he could get away with. Just enough money. Just enough experience. He judged
it well.
    Calum ends up staying for a couple of hours. Neither has anything else to do today. Calum is making a point of keeping his distance from Winter, letting him live his penultimate day in peace.
They talk about everything other than work. The job should be simple, and they’ve done it enough times to each know what’s required of them. Little is required of George, all being
well, beyond turning up; everything Calum still has to do is simple. Simple for him. Simple for someone who has done it so often before. They talk as friends, not as colleagues. No business. Make
each other laugh. Take some of the tension out of it. Doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done the job, there’s still tension to be exorcized.

13
    People deal with the immediate build-up differently.