‘They were still there when your guys arrived then?’ Michael asked.

Levy took the seat offered. Michael retook his own.

‘They weren’t going anywhere quickly,’ Levy replied. ‘That was an impressive amount of damage you did, Michael.’

‘Not like I had a choice. Self-defence, three against one. Everything I did was reasonable.’

‘You don’t have to defend yourself to me, counsel.’ Levy caught the barman’s eye and signalled him over. ‘No one’s going to suggest your actions were anything but legal.’

Levy indicated Michael’s glass and asked what it was. Michael told her. She turned to the barman.

‘Two more of those, please.’

Then back to Michael.

‘What I meant is you’re bloody lucky it was O’Driscoll and his stupid friends who came for you. At least you can see that sort coming. What if it had been Hirst?’

‘Hirst isn’t going to be anywhere public,’ Michael replied. ‘Not after you’ve plastered his face all over every news outlet in the country. He could stand next to the Pope and still be the first one recognised.’

Michael did not know if Levy bought his nonchalance. He certainly did not; his only regret about the afternoon’s violence was that it had not involved Hirst.

‘That doesn’t mean you’re safe,’ Levy replied. ‘He’s a ruthless son of a bitch. And he’ll still be trying to find a way to come for you. You know that.’

Michael took a gulp of his whisky, emptying what was left in the glass. Just in time, as the barman returned with two more. Michael turned back to Levy.

‘I was sorry to hear about Inspector Hale,’ he said, changing the subject. ‘I could tell that you were close.’

‘Yeah, we were. Steve was a good man. And a great friend.’ Levy picked up her glass and held it outwards. Towards Michael. ‘What is it you say in Ireland? Sláinte, right?’

‘Close enough.’ Michael lifted his own glass. Clinked it against Levy’s. ‘L’chaim. And to Steven Hale, may God rest him.’

‘Thanks. Truly.’

Levy took a sip of her drink. Then a second sip – a larger one – before placing her glass on the bar. Levy seemed to be steeling herself to say something, and when she finally spoke she seemed relieved.

‘Michael, I’m not going to arrest you for what happened at Hirst’s trial.’

‘What?’ The statement was the last thing Michael had expected to hear. ‘Why not?’

‘Because no one else knows. No one but you, me and Sarah. And frankly that piece of shit deserved – he deserves – everything done to him. So don’t worry. Once this is over, it’s over.’

‘That’s kind of you. I appreciate it.’

‘Don’t appreciate anything. In fact, don’t mention it again. Ever.’

‘Is that what you came here to tell me?’

‘That, and to make sure you’re looking after yourself. So I can tell Sarah. She’s done nothing but worry about you, but she says you’ve not been taking her calls.’

Michael felt a pang of guilt at Levy’s words.