Lighting Candles by David Leslie

Author:David Leslie
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781845027940
Publisher: Black & White Publishing
Published: 2014-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

16

PIZZA MAN

THE FEAR THAT THE CLOUD OF DEATH constantly hanging over the province might one day shroud his family, a close comrade or himself was never far away from Manny. His trips to Glasgow, now that the heat over the deaths of Arty, Joe and Bobby had cooled, were a welcome relief from the stresses of New Lodge. He knew his arrivals in Glasgow were monitored by both Special Branch officers in Scotland and the local police, who could not be certain if the various factions supporting all the dead felt their thirst for revenge had been satisfied.

Joe Hanlon had relatives in Ireland. Arthur Thompson had connections with major players in England who were cementing links with groups such as the IPLO and UVF over drug deals. Thompson himself had supplied guns to Loyalist factions. There was no shortage of guns and gunmen for hire.

Manny, while unaware of the twists and turns in the plots that had left three men dead and Paul Ferris awaiting a murder trial, was nevertheless never surprised when he was singled out from among those arriving from Belfast at Glasgow airport or Stranraer and asked what he wanted in Scotland. His answer was always the same. ‘I’m here for the football, to watch Celtic,’ he would say. He suspected he was rarely believed.

One trip ended prematurely.

‘I had travelled over for a football match and to spend a few days looking around. Whenever I arrived in Glasgow I’d call on Tam and James Mullen. I was very friendly with James. I was at his home, where we were having a few beers and watching the Sky news channel about two in the morning when I suddenly sat up as I heard an item about a shooting in Belfast.

‘Normally that wasn’t such hot news, but I was interested to know where the incident had taken place. Then the announcer mentioned the name of the street and said it was where gunmen had tried to kill a man. Suddenly on the screen came shots of the scene and I said to James, “James, what the fuck is going on? That’s Sean’s house and that’s his street.” A reporter talked about a man having been attacked and shot and being critically ill in intensive care in hospital. “That’s not Sean’s car,” I said. “But it’s definitely his house. What the fuck’s happened? I have to get back right away.” So we drove to Stranraer and I waited around to get the first ferry back home. I went straight to New Lodge, then visited Sean and was able to piece together the story of what had gone on.

‘Because Sean lived so close to the Loyalists, he was extra security conscious and that included changing his cars very regularly. Some of the paramilitaries kept lists of cars and car numbers, so if they were targeting somebody they would know what make and colour of motor to look for and the registration number. The reason I didn’t recognise the car shown on television was because he had only just bought it while I’d been over in Glasgow.

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