Under the Hood

 

I knew that as soon as the doors of the lift opened that we’d be faced with something awful and I wasn’t wrong because when they eventually slid apart we came face to face with Angela Haggerty.  “We thought  you were dead!” I exclaimed.  “Of course, we can see you in front of us, we can touch you, you’re very tangible to us right now but you must be dead!”

“Not this shit again,” sighed Jorg Albertz.

“She’s a zombie!” cried Ogilvie.

“You too?” snorted Albertz, rolling his eyes.  “Hit her with a shovel if you like, it’ll probably improve her looks but she’s no zombie.

“No, she’s not,” came a voice from behind Haggerty – it was Souness!  “Her hair caught on a gargoyle on the way down.  I was patrolling the roof after hearing the crash of the chimney caving in as Delahunt was tossed down it and came across her hanging there; I didn’t know which one to rescue, her or the gargoyle.  The sound of Tom Devine hitting the ground with a burp which knocked Delahunt unconscious soon brought me to my senses so I pulled her up and into my arms and safety.  Do you know what she did, the ungrateful little cow?  Spat in my face!  It made it all the more easy for me to use her as a bat when the killer crept up behind me – I swung her round by the ankles and knocked the bastard off balance and he toppled through a skylight and in here.  That’s him sitting over there wearing a hood.”

“But there’s five of them,” said Lawwell and he was right.  At the far end of the extended attic were five people wrapped in sheets and bound with black duct tape.

“Yes, interesting, isn’t it?” said Souness with a smile as he pushed Haggerty into my arms.  She was dazed the poor girl, no wonder after Souness had used her to knock our maniac through the roof.  

 

After I’d recovered from the cheap thrill of feeling a woman’s bouncers pressed against my chest, I had a chance to look around this attic and I gasped at what I saw there: everyone who had been at the party was stuck to the ceiling, wrapped up in cocoons like they’d been spun around by some giant spider; only their heads showed and remarkably enough considering all they'd been through, they were all breathing which was a relief for Lawwell because the whole of the SFA Board was in here and he was already dreading having to put together another gaggle of useful morons to replace them.

 

The whole scene was quite grotesque and I was just beginning to feel queasy when Lawwell suddenly ran at the five bound and hooded figures.  “Nobody fucks with Peter Lawwell in his own house!” and he gave the closest figure a roundhouse kick on the neck and was pulling a machete from his underpants when Souness shot it out of his hand.  Lawwell gasped and stared at Souness and for a moment it looked as if he was going to attack him but Souness wagged a finger and said, “Now, now, now.  I’m not a member of the Scottish sports press you know, I’ll hurt you back” so Lawwell relaxed, feigned indifference and walked back towards us, taking a slice at the second bound and hooded figure with the horse whip he had concealed up his sleeve.

“So who are they?” asked Ogilvie.

“Isn’t it obvious?” mocked Albertz, strolling past Souness who motioned for him to be his guest and explain everything.  “Who’s been giving everyone in Scotland the run around for the past year?  Who has been acting in a malignant and sinister manner these past months and who has the Scottish press scared stiff to say a word about him?”  Everyone looked at Lawwell who tapped his chest with a thumb and mouthed, “Me?”

“No, not him.  Well, yes him,” groaned Albertz.  “Someone else apart from him.”

“To be fair, I can’t think of anyone who fits that description that isn’t him,” said Ogilvie.

“It’s Charlotte Fakes” said Souness tiring of the prevarication.  We all gasped as one and looked over at the five figures one of whom was on the ground from Lawwell's wild kick.

“You mean, Charlotte Fakes is five people?” I asked, blushing because it had never occurred to me.

“Five people,” repeated Albertz positioning himself behind them and resting a hand on one of their heads.  “Close to discovery, they thought they’d go out with a bang and take out the whole of the SFA in one fell swoop and how better to do that than infiltrate one of Lawwell’s parties?  I don’t know what’s going on with the webs and all the fancy tricks but has anyone known how Charlotte Fakes did anything that short time they blazed so brightly and brilliantly on Twitter?”

“This is all very well, Albertz” interrupted Lawwell.  “But what I want to know is, who the fuck is Charlotte Fakes?  Are Charlotte Fakes?  Oh just get on with it!”

“Why don’t you remove their hoods and find out?” said Souness, his moustache bristling from the tension.  And that’s what happened, just as the SFA and other guests were coming to and climbing out of their cocoons, Lawwell strode over to the Charlotte Fakes figures and whipped off their hoods.

 

Everyone gaped in confusion but only I seemed to recognise them, only I knew who had been Charlotte Fakes all along.