Jeffrey Palmer had been his choice. He had recruited him personally to be his replacement. He had trusted him to take over. That was the real bugbear – he had trusted a man who had not understood the enormity of what had been offered him, who had not had the intelligence to understand exactly what he was dealing with. It was a real melon scratcher, as his mum would say.

Chapter Fifty-Six

Chapter Fifty-Six

A very pretty girl carried their coffees into the spacious office that Michael used when he was in Canary Wharf. This was where the legitimate businesses were located, and where some of the more exotic business was also conducted. They were luxurious, and they were private. There was a whole workforce here who actually worked for their living.

Declan Costello was tired out and he sipped his coffee carefully.

Michael Flynn watched the big, overweight man opposite him with affection. Declan looked like a social worker, his suit was a tad too small, and his shirt was cheap. His whole look was unkempt and slightly soiled. But Michael trusted him. Declan Costello was a man who looked like an affable fool, but was actually a dangerous fuck when crossed.

‘I need your advice, Declan. I know I can trust you, so please tell me what you think.’

Declan sighed. He knew that Michael was in a quandary; he had surreptitiously listened in to his conversation with Jeffrey Palmer and, like Michael, he had been mortified. More so because it had been Jeffrey Palmer talking such bollocks, a man who should have known better. But it was always the chosen ones who overstepped the mark.

‘I did try and warn you, Michael. Patrick always said, the more you give people, the more they want. He was on the money. Why do you think he recruited you? As young as you were, he trusted you from the off, but you also had the added advantage that Patrick actually liked you. He saw your potential, and he was right. I know he made you prove yourself to him, prove that you were capable of what he asked of you – that was his way of sounding people out. But, on reflection, he brought you in out of nowhere, didn’t he? He didn’t bring up someone from the ranks, someone he knew, he had already worked with. He brought you straight in over all their heads.’

Michael digested the man’s words; there was a logic there that couldn’t be denied.

‘You need to think long and hard about the people you put in place, Michael, and eventually you need to find yourself a number two. I’ve said this to you before. It’s a big fucking responsibility for one person.’