‘Feck, right,’ Jerry said, ‘let’s get on our bellies and crawl under the window to where that light came from and see if we can take a gander and find out what is going on.’

In seconds, they were crossing the moonlit slab of concrete that exposed them, aware that all eyes up on the top and all eyes on the ship were watching them. They stopped and, with stealthy moves, shifted into place and then rested their backs against the wall. The two men froze as they heard voices coming from inside. The two men winked at each other in the moonlight as they silently turned and pressed their ears against the wall of the wooden hut.

‘How much is it?’ said Frank the Skank.

‘Nearly two thousand pounds. The dock board don’t even know it’s here. They have a separate account for the rents and trust me to look after it – I just haven’t banked it for a while.’

‘That’s no heart-at-all-felt,’ mouthed Jerry to Tommy.

‘What are you going to do with your share?’ Frank’s voice again.

‘Same as you, matey. I’m going to hold my nerve and tough it out. You can settle your Margaret in once the bailiffs have done their job on Nelson Street and I can help the police with their enquiries. Christ, the return of Tommy Doherty is a godsend, he’s a sitting duck. We were obviously meant to have this and when the coast is clear, I’m off to New Zealand. I’ll wave to you in Australia.’

The two men laughed. ‘How are you going to get it out, Frank? It’s a bit obvious, walking along the dock with a bag that size full of one-pound and ten-shilling notes.’

‘I’m going to drop it out here at the back on the dock. Don’t want to be seen walking out of the front door with it over my shoulder like a bag of swag.’ Frank the Skank began to chuckle. ‘There’s a trolley tucked at the side and I’m going to wheel it to the cutting. Anyone who notices me from on top will think it’s a dead dog from the dock. And when I get there, I have the police car waiting which I got for the week. I said to them, if there’s only me on two docks, I can’t police them properly on foot and they fell for it. I’m going to drive it to our house and store it in the coalhouse. Margaret doesn’t like to get her hands dirty so she never goes down there. But first I’ll plant a small bundle of notes down the back of the Dohertys’ boiler and I’ll find them there myself tomorrow, once the alarm is raised. They didn’t get him for the murder of the priest, but they’ll have him for this.’