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a capture, for whatever reason, they were expected to take the consequences involved without question. They knew they would be well compensated for their trouble.
    Now Michael Flynn was getting the chance of a face-to-face with Patrick Costello and he didn’t intend to waste it.
    He could hear Patrick coming up the stairs, back to his office, and he waited patiently for him.
    Patrick came through the doorway beaming. ‘Sorry about that, son, but you know the old adage – no rest for the wicked, eh?’
    Michael grinned in response.
    Patrick stood by his desk for a few moments looking at Michael intently.
    Michael held the man’s gaze easily, but it unnerved him nonetheless. Patrick Costello looked more dangerous than ever in his own domain. Michael could see that Patrick’s reputation as a man who was not to be crossed was more than warranted. Michael had never in all his life felt so vulnerable or so nervous. But he kept his emotions in check.
    Patrick smiled suddenly. ‘Don’t be nervous of me, Michael. I have been hearing good things about you, son, and I want you to come and work for me – personally.’
    Michael was so amazed at what Patrick Costello had said he couldn’t even answer him.
    Patrick smiled at Michael. He could see not just the amazement but also the sheer want in the boy’s eyes. He had chosen well. Michael Flynn was much younger than any of the other men he had taken on, but the lad had already established himself as a good earner. Even more importantly, he already had a reputation as a young man who never discussed anything with anyone.
    Patrick had been impressed by Michael’s dealings with Jimmy Moore. He was a useless cunt, who was hated by everyone he came into contact with – even his relatives. He bullied everyone around him, thinking he could get away with it because his uncle, Terry Gold, was a well-known Face. Yet Michael Flynn – who Patrick Costello knew was more than capable of taking care of himself, especially when it came to a runt like Jimmy Moore – had been sensible enough to keep his cool, do his job. He’d also kept his mouth shut about Jimmy Moore’s skimming – something Patrick intended to have a word with Declan about putting a stop to quick-sharp – until he knew exactly what the score was. That was the type of person that Patrick Costello liked to have on his side. This lad would happily work for him and, if push came to the proverbial shove, he would do his time inside with the minimum of fuss.
    ‘I don’t know what to say, Mr Costello . . .’
    ‘Before you answer me, Michael, you need to understand something. My half of the business is very clandestine. I make sure that the serious earns are not only fucking lucrative, but also so secret that no more than two or three people have any real knowledge of the actual scam they are involved in at any given time.’
    He was watching Michael intently, so Michael nodded slightly as if in total agreement. He was being sounded out – how he reacted now would be the making or the breaking of him, and would either guarantee him a place with Patrick, or see him back with Jimmy once more.
    Patrick sighed, as if he was debating within himself whether Michael was worthy of his attention. ‘I believe that fewer people in the know ensures the absolute integrity that serious earns demand, and I only deal with serious earns. I know – within hours – if anyone on my personal payroll has spoken out of turn or been foolish enough to let their mouths run away with them. I’m explaining this so you know where I am coming from, and so you know exactly what is expected of you.’
    Michael still didn’t say a word. If truth be told, he didn’t know what to say. Instead he waited patiently for Patrick to continue.
    ‘Declan is a fucking star. He fronts the family businesses, as you well know. But what I say now is for your ears only.’
    Michael nodded firmly this time; he was giving this man his word.
    ‘Declan, God love