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wardens. I remember they had leather straps, and we got our kicks thinking about them walloping the girls. Did you know that when the public finally knew what was going on, the outcry was so great that in the middle of the night, the bodies of dead Maggies were exhumed and whisked off to the cemetery to be buried? There’s a mass grave there with all the nameless girls below.”
    He took a deep breath, and I offered to buy him a pint. He said yes but not to expect any more talk; that was his week’s ration. I left, visualising the dead girls that were never claimed.
    I was heading towards the hotel wThen a BMW pulled up. A man got out, said,
    “Jack Taylor?”
    He was definitely the largest man I’d ever seen. At gardatraining at Templemore, I’d seen some of the biggest the country can produce. The midlands in particular yielded men who’d give new meaning to the term massive. Oddly enough, they made lousy cops. This guy towered above me. His head was bald, adding to his menace. Dressed in a white tracksuit, he eyed me with derision. What else could I reply but,
    “Who’s asking?”
    He stretched out his hand and literally flung me into the car, then crowded in beside me. Said,
    “Bill would like a word.”
    With his bulk, there wasn’t a whole lot of room. I was jammed up against him, said,
    “I hope you showered.”
    “Shut your mouth.”
    I did.
    They took me to Sweeney’s. Ominously, not a customer in the pub. The giant pushed me ahead, said,
    “Bill’s in the cellar.”
    Bill was wearing a boiler suit, said,
    “Don’t want to get my clothes dirty.”
    A single hard chair in the middle, surrounded by barrels; the smell of yeast was overpowering. I must have made a face, as Bill said,
    “I’d have thought it was mother’s milk to you.”
    “You’d have thought wrong.”
    He gave a tight smile, said,
    “Always the mouth, Jack; maybe we can do something about that. Sit down.”
    “No, thanks.”
    The giant grabbed my shoulders, shoved me down, tied my hands and put a blindfold on me. Bill said,
    “Casey doesn’t like you, Jack.”
    “Gee . . . that’s worrying.”
    I got a wallop to my left ear. It hurt like a bastard. Bill said,
    “Excuse the dramatics, but you don’t want to actually see Nev. He’s kind of shy. He’s a huge fan of
The Deer Hunter
and he likes to play, so I’ll talk you through this.”
    I could smell Juicy Fruit, and the strength of the scent made me want to gag. I heard a gun being cocked, and Bill said,
    “You owe me twice,Jack.”
    “I thought we were working on that.”
    “But you need to focus, Jack. You’re not paying attention. Nev is holding an old revolver ‘cause he’s an old fashioned guy, and he’s put two bullets in there and yes, that sound you hear is him spinning the barrel. OK, folks, here we go; let’s play.”
    The sound of the hammer hitting an empty chamber put the fear of God into me, and I thought I’d pass out. Bill said,
    “Gee, lucky.”
    Sweat rolled into my eyes. I realised I’d bitten my tongue, could taste blood in my mouth. The gun was withdrawn, and Bill said,
    “Halfway there, but to hell or salvation? How you doing, Jack?”
    I wasn’t doing too good.
    I said,
    “Fuck you, Bill.”
    “You want me to spin or just go for it?”
    The muzzle against my head again, the giant sniggering. I swear he was grinning. Nev thumbed the hammer, fired.
    Click on empty.
    A tremor shook my whole body. I hadn’t vented my bowels but it was close. My teeth were chattering. Bill said,
    “Jeez, talk about luck.”
    I couldn’t find my voice and he added,
    “I think we’ve got you focused. Get results real soon, Jack.”
    And I heard him walk away, Nev talking quietly with him as they went. The giant tilted my chair, and I went face down on the stone floor. Water, beer and God knows what else had pooled together. He untied my hands, pulled the blindfold roughly and spat; then he, too, walked to the stairs.
    I pushed myself up and another