The Last Witness by Denzil Meyrick Read Free Book Online Page A

even worse day fir you, Jim,’ Scott hiccupped. ‘I’ve left my wallet up in the motor. I took it oot at Invereray when I stopped fir chips, an’ flung it intae wan o’ they door pockets. Ye’ll have tae dig deep yersel.’ Scott looked at him with a resigned expression that reminded Daley vaguely of Stan Laurel.
    He sighed and reached for the back pocket of his trousers, where he habitually kept his wallet. Quickly though, he remembered that he’d had to change into the spare pair that he kept in his locker for emergencies. He had forgotten his wallet, and after searching every other pocket, only managed to produce a couple of pounds in change. He looked at Annie apologetically. ‘Sorry. I think we’d better make tracks. We seem to have a cash-flow problem.’
    ‘Indeed ye will not,’ declared Annie, placing two small whisky glasses on the table. ‘If I wiz tae refuse everybodythat had nae money in here a drink, I’d have been oot o’ work a long, long time ago, let me assure ye. Yous can owe me. It’s no’ as if I don’t know where to find ye.’
    ‘Well, I’ve jeest seen it a,” said the other customer, Jocky, shaking his head. ‘The polis in here steamin’ tappin’ money fir drink. Aye, I’ve seen it a’, right enough.’
    ‘Just you wait a minute,’ Scott said raising his finger to admonish his accuser.
    ‘Fir fuck’s sake,’ Jocky said, pointing at Scott’s trousers. ‘This fella’s pished his troosers an’ a – the polis has gaun tae the dogs, an’ nae mistake.’ He grimaced, looking at Annie, who looked somewhat surprised herself.
    ‘Hang oan a minute, you. That’s no’ pish.’
    ‘Best we take a seat, Brian,’ interrupted Daley, ushering his colleague to a table at the back of the bar.
    ‘Whit’s been happenin’ doon here, Annie?’ Scott shouted, anxious to stop the whispered conjecture as to the nature of the stain on his trousers that was now taking place between Annie and Jocky.
    ‘Och,’ answered Annie, somewhat stiffly, while vigorously polishing a pint glass with a white tea towel, ‘jeest the usual. Ye’ll mind o’ Peter Williamson that used tae come in here?’
    ‘Cannae say I dae,’ Scott mumbled as he took the first sip of the drink he didn’t really need.
    ‘Aye, ye dae – Peester, nice lad, a right worrier though. Well, he got himsel’ caught in his zip – if ye know whoot I mean.’ She smiled knowingly in the direction of the policemen.
    ‘You mean?’ Daley winced and gestured under the table.
    ‘Aye, exactly, Mr Daley. An’ whoot a performance it wiz tae.’ The smile had returned to Annie’s face, the issue of Scott’s trousers seemingly forgotten. ‘A’ I heard wiz thisscreamin’ comin’ fae the toilet. I thought someone wiz bein’ murdered.’ She looked sheepishly at the detectives. ‘Anyhow, I ran in wavin’ that rolling pin I keep under the bar – in case o’ bother, ye understan’ – an’ there he wiz, the poor boy, proppin’ himself up against the wa’ wi’ his manhood stuck fast in his flies.’ She began to rub the glass with increased vigour, looking into the middle distance, as though bringing this graphic scene back to mind.
    ‘Whit happened tae the boy?’ Scott slurred, rubbing the stained area of his trousers as he pictured the episode.
    ‘Well, we’d tae send fir the paramedics,’ Annie replied, the smile now broad on her face. ‘Wance they’d stopped laughin’, they took the boy in hand, so tae speak.’ She let out a loud guffaw of laughter, which quickly spread to the other occupants of the bar.
    ‘Yous’ll never guess whoot they’re callin’ him noo in the toon.’ Jocky turned, somewhat unsteadily, on his stool in order to face his fellow customers, tears of laughter spilling down his cheeks.
    ‘Zip Up De Do Da,’ Annie shouted, stealing the punch line as they all descended into gales of laughter.
    ‘So was he all right?’ Daley asked.
    ‘Och aye,’ answered Annie. ‘Though he wiz