Cox's Stack (headquarters of the Dundee Mafia)
Once I had settled upon my foolhardy scheme of visiting the Dundee Mafia for guidance and to offload the purloined jewel, I immediately took steps to put the scheme into practice. With no history of crime (except the recent murders and the theft of a priceless jewel) and not being criminally minded (apart from my devious intention to sell the priceless jewel for profit and hide my involvement in the recent murders), I obviously had no real knowledge of the Dundee Mafia. I did not know who was involved in the organisation, nor how far the filthy fingers of their crime syndicate reached throughout the city. I had no contact numbers or business cards. How would I, a mere civilian, get in touch with the man in charge?
The local yellow pages proved fruitless: they had no listings under 'M' for Mafia. The closest I could find was "Marr Brothers Lawful Businesses, Inc." which obviously had no connection to crime whatsoever.
Well readers, common rumour has for many years held that Cox's Stack, the former chimney of The Camperdown Jute Works, is the headquarters of the Dundee Mafia. The fact that it has no windows means that the mafiosos within the converted building are free to get on with their innumerable criminal activities unobserved. The high vantage point from the top of the 286 foot building allows lookout men to view the entirety of the city and also observe when the police are approaching.
Unlikely though this urban legend seemed, it was the only lead I had. It could not hurt to try, I reasoned (in hindsight, this was the exact opposite of the truth). Retrieving the Tewari Eye jewel from my loft and slipping it beneath my cardigan, I left the house and made for Cox's Stack in Lochee.
Paranoia plagued me as I sped towards the Stack, through bustling throngs of crowds of mobs of Dundonians doing their shopping. The jewel was ill-disguised beneath my cardigan and I became conscious that I appeared pregnant or the victim of an enormous stomach tumour. If someone had merely given me a second glance, I would have surely aroused suspicion. How easy too would it have been for some dithering old baggage to accidentally bang into me and dislodge the jewel onto the chewing-gum-spattered paving stones of Dundee's city centre. All would have been lost. When I think back to the number of times this could easily have happened, I realise how fortuitous I was to make it all the way to Cox's Stack with the jewel unspotted.
When I arrived, I noted with a thrill of fear that outside the door in the base of the enormous former chimney, there stood a colossus. This lumpen behemoth was at least seven feet tall and looked to be similarly wide. He looked as though he could crush both Geoff Capes and Giant Haystacks between his gigantic palms, then casually eat a couple of sumo wrestlers for lunch. The brute wore a tightly-fitting black suit and a shirt that would have billowed freely around the neck of an overweight orangutan and yet strangled this beast.
Everything about this creature said "the hired goon of a criminal fraternity". Taking a deep breath, I approached the door.
The Hulking Lummox guarding Cox's Stack.