Kelly dropped the sheet of foolscap onto the counter. Mossop took his time turning it about so he could read it. The gas mantles were already burning, and he held the sheet at various angles, giving the impression of seeking maximum illumination. Then he started to read the warrant out loud, slowly stumbling through the lawyerly jargon.

‘By Jesus,’ he said after a long interval, ‘that’s impressive stuff. A warrant signed by the assistant under-secretary in his capacity as a Justice of the Peace, no less . . . authorising Major Nigel Frederick Kelly to enter and search the premises known as Exchange Court . . . otherwise the detective office of the Dublin Metropolitan Police. . . .’ He turned the angle of the paper again. ‘. . . and to seize and take away from the said premises . . . any papers, documents . . . or things . . . that may seem material to the said Major Nigel Frederick Kelly in connection with . . . felonies and crimes, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.’

He folded the sheet and handed it back to Kelly.

‘So . . . what’s this all about, sir? These documents . . . or things? Are we in trouble here?’

‘I’m here to take possession of G-Division’s recent protection logs. They are required in the interests of Crown security.’

‘Well, you’re in the right place, sure enough, sir,’ Mossop said agreeably, endeavouring to convey the continuing sense of being a fool. ‘This is G-Division, not a doubt about that. You’re in the right place, sure enough. Sure enough.’

He dropped his hands as if to slide off the stool, and then brought them up swiftly, holding the double-barrelled Remington shotgun that always sat, loaded, under the counter in the public office. He thrust the weapon hard against Kelly’s chest, pushing him back momentarily on his feet.

Kelly’s men reached into their coats to produce short Webley revolvers. All four guns were levelled on Pat Mossop.

‘Now, Charlie,’ Mossop said slowly. ‘I don’t know who the hell you are, or why you think you can walk in here and walk out with official police records. But as you say, this is G-Division. We’re very careful with our records, and we’re careful about who we let in here. So without authority from my direct superiors, you’re not going to get beyond this desk. Some of your four pals might get in all right, the one or two who might . . . just might . . . not get their eyes blown out with my buckshot. But if you try to get past me, you’ll just be a big, red hole with a lot of lead in the middle.’

Kelly’s eyes narrowed as he flushed to an angry crimson.

‘You stupid little Paddy. Take a look behind you. Then put that damned thing down, and you can thank your lucky stars if I don’t have your job and your pension.’