Blood City by Douglas Skelton sampler
Meet Davie McCall – not your average henchman. Abused and tormented by his father for fifteen years, there is a darkness in him searching for a way out. Under the wing of Glasgow’s Godfather, Joe ‘the Tailor’ Klein, he flourishes. Joe the Tailor may be a killer, but there are some lines he won’t cross, and Davie agrees with his strict moral code. He doesn’t like drugs. He won’t condone foul language. He abhors violence against women. When the Tailor refuses to be part of Glasgow’s new drug trade, the hits start rolling. It’s every man for himself as the entire criminal underworld turns on itself, and Davie is well and truly caught up in the action. But an attractive young reporter makes him wonder if he can leave his life of crime behind and Davie must learn the hard way that you cannot change what you are. Blood City is a novel set in Glasgow’s underworld at a time when it was undergoing a seismic shift. A tale of violence, corruption and betrayal, loyalties will be tested and friendships torn apart.
Meet Davie McCall – not your average henchman. Abused and tormented by his father for fifteen years, there is a darkness in him searching for a way out. Under the wing of Glasgow’s Godfather, Joe ‘the Tailor’ Klein, he flourishes.
Joe the Tailor may be a killer, but there are some lines he won’t cross, and Davie agrees with his strict moral code. He doesn’t like drugs. He won’t condone foul language. He abhors violence against women. When the Tailor refuses to be part of Glasgow’s new drug trade, the hits start rolling. It’s every man for himself as the entire criminal underworld turns on itself, and Davie is well and truly caught up in the action.
But an attractive young reporter makes him wonder if he can leave his life of crime behind and Davie must learn the hard way that you cannot change what you are. Blood City is a novel set in Glasgow’s underworld at a time when it was undergoing a seismic shift. A tale of violence, corruption and betrayal, loyalties will be tested and friendships torn apart.
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1<br />
W<br />
hen at last Davie fully burst through the silky surface<br />
of consciousness, he knew immediately that he was in a<br />
hospital. His previous surges back to the world had been brief<br />
affairs, when he had registered the sounds but not the smells. Now<br />
he knew he was in a hospital ward, for not only did he recognise<br />
the squeak of nurses’ shoes on the floor and the muted conversation<br />
of the other patients on the ward, but also the smell of disinfectant<br />
and, for some reason, boiled cabbage. As he lay on his back he<br />
opened his eyes and saw the cracked plaster in the cream ceiling<br />
high above his bed. Pale, watery daylight leaked through a window<br />
to his left. Surrounding him he saw the light blue curtain with its<br />
ragged darker lines and finally the unmistakeable figure of Joe the<br />
Tailor beside his bed. Immaculate as always; the trademark deep<br />
navy coat, unbuttoned to reveal his blue suit, white shirt and dark<br />
red tie. Davie couldn’t see it but he knew the Tailor’s grey Homburg<br />
would not be far away. The old man sat straight-backed in the foldaway<br />
wooden chair, one knee crooked over the other, his perfectly<br />
manicured hands clasped on top. He might have been praying, but<br />
Davie knew he had given that up a long time ago. He also knew,<br />
without asking, that the man had been sitting there for a long time.<br />
Joe Klein smiled gently when he saw the boy’s eyes snap open.<br />
‘Glad to see you are returned,’ he said, his voice carrying the<br />
faint echoes of a Polish childhood. ‘You are in the Royal Infirmary.<br />
Do you know why?’ Davie tried to pull himself up, but found his<br />
9
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