Michael laughed. ‘I know that better than anyone, believe me. It wasn’t deliberate, Declan. It was just his nature. He had worked hard for his position in life, and it meant a lot to him.’

Declan could see the truth of that, and he was amazed that Michael had understood his brother so well, and what made him tick. ‘You’re right. Patrick always wanted more. Nothing would ever be enough for him. Like you!’

‘I suppose so.’

Michael got up and, walking to the main door, he picked up a crowbar that was always there in case of emergencies.

Declan shrugged. ‘This will cause a lot of trouble, Michael, but you know that, don’t you?’

Michael was busy feeling the weight of his chosen weapon, moving it from hand to hand. He grinned. ‘I know that, Declan. But even Christie McCarthy will have to accept that this time his boy has trodden on the wrong fucking toes. I can’t swallow this, and neither can you. It was a blatant fucking public outrage. I will sort Christie McCarthy out, if necessary. But, whatever happens, that cunt in there is on his way out.’

Declan shrugged. He had expected this from the off. It was why he had brought the man here, and sent everyone involved home. This was not going to end happily for anyone concerned.

Michael went through to the back office a few minutes later. He had finished his drink first.

The first blow split Kelvin’s head open, the second exposed his brain. He was dead almost immediately, so then Michael concentrated on the man’s body. He was going to make an example of him. No one was going to be in any doubt about what was in store for them if they dared to cross him.

Chapter Fifty-Two

Chapter Fifty-Two

Josephine woke up slowly, and smiled lazily. Michael was asleep beside her, his arm around her waist. She felt her baby move inside her, and she felt a rush of happiness. Every time she felt it moving, she knew that it was still alive. She closed her eyes and said a quick prayer of thanks. She had been saying the rosary every day, the Joyful Mysteries, mostly. She wasn’t comfortable with the others, least of all the Sorrowful Mysteries. She had also been saying the Thirty Days’ Prayer, and the Creed. She had always loved the Creed. It was so beautiful. She prayed to Mary, Our Lady, a mother herself, to please protect her child, and guide it safely into the world. She was sure that her prayers would be answered. If it didn’t happen this time, she was never going to try again; she would accept her barren state, and get on with her life.