Open Wounds by Douglas Skelton sampler
Davie McCall is tired. Tired of violence, tired of the Life. He's always managed to stay detached from the brutal nature of his line of work, but recently he has caught himself enjoying it. In the final instalment in the Davie McCall series old friends clash and long buried secrets are unearthed as McCall investigates a brutal five-year-old crime. Davie wants out, but the underbelly of Glasgow is all he has ever known. Will what he learns about his old ally Big Rab McClymont be enough to get him out of the Life? And could the mysterious woman who just moved in upstairs be just what he needs?
Davie McCall is tired. Tired of violence, tired of the Life. He's always managed to stay detached from the brutal nature of his line of work, but recently he has caught himself enjoying it.
In the final instalment in the Davie McCall series old friends clash and long buried secrets are unearthed as McCall investigates a brutal five-year-old crime.
Davie wants out, but the underbelly of Glasgow is all he has ever known. Will what he learns about his old ally Big Rab McClymont be enough to get him out of the Life? And could the mysterious woman who just moved in upstairs be just what he needs?
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open wounds 19<br />
‘A fuckin mute talks too much compared to you. I like the boy,<br />
though. He’s got a lot to live up to. His auld grandfaither was<br />
some guy. Still is.’<br />
McCall said nothing. He knew Sammy was ‘some guy’. He’d<br />
known that since their time together in Barlinnie Prison, years<br />
before.<br />
McClymont asked, ‘He ready for the big stuff yet?’<br />
‘He needs to learn how to get in, get the job done, get out. He’s<br />
been around Stringer too long.’<br />
‘What you got against Stringer, Davie?’<br />
‘I don’t like him.’<br />
‘He does what he’s told.’<br />
McCall said nothing and McClymont smiled. Not for the first<br />
time, McCall felt the big fellow enjoyed this needle between him<br />
and Stringer, even promoted it, perhaps believing it kept them on<br />
their toes. That annoyed him. He didn’t like to be manipulated like<br />
that, especially <strong>by</strong> an old mate. But then, Rab had stopped being<br />
a real mate when the four-wheel drive erupted in flame. He’d<br />
stopped being a lot of things then.<br />
‘Jerry O’Neill’s out,’ said McClymont, changing the subject.<br />
McCall waited. ‘Bastard’s still shooting his mouth off. Still sayin<br />
I fitted him up for that MacDougall job. Now that Criminal Cases<br />
Review Commission has been listenin and he’s out on bail pending<br />
an appeal.’<br />
McCall remembered very little about the case. O’Neill had<br />
been sentenced to fifteen years for his part in a dramatic raid on<br />
the home of a successful bookie in 1994. The gang – at least four<br />
of them – got away with over two hundred grand, which was<br />
never recovered. Only Jerry O’Neill, fingered as the ringleader,<br />
came to trial. As soon as he was in jail, McClymont took over his<br />
security company, adding it to his already growing list of legitimate<br />
enterprises, all showing a profit, all dwarfed <strong>by</strong> Rab’s real<br />
moneymaking empire.<br />
‘I’ve heard he’s talkin to anyone who’ll listen,’ said McClymont.<br />
‘Tellin lies about me. I need him sorted, Davie.’<br />
‘I’ll talk to him,’ said McCall.
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