Declan nodded his agreement. ‘You’re preaching to the converted here, Michael. I lived with it all my life, remember? That is why I am telling you to think about this carefully. Patrick was a hard man, and he had a lot of respect, but he made a lot of unnecessary enemies over the years. He took against people on a whim, for no real reason, and that caused us untold aggravation at times, believe me. Ultimately, you had to take him out for the greater good.’

Michael closed his eyes; he hated to be reminded of his part in Patrick’s death. Declan was right in what he was saying but, even though Michael knew all that, and agreed with everything the man had said, he still felt, deep down, that Jeffrey Palmer had crossed a line, gone too far. But he kept his own counsel; he had asked for Declan Costello’s opinion, and the man had given it to him.

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Chapter Fifty-Seven

Josephine was looking at herself critically in the mirrored wardrobes; she had a bump, but not a huge one. She caressed it instinctively, but the baby had not moved for two days, and now she was starting to feel panic rising inside her. Although she was eight months pregnant – the longest that she had ever carried a child – she was feeling nothing but dread. If this child had died, she knew she would never have another.

She was naked except for her dressing gown, a long flowing silk affair that had cost a small fortune, and it looked good on her. It was a pale pink colour, and with her thick blond hair and deep-blue eyes she knew that it suited her complexion perfectly. Even pregnant, she still wanted to look good for Michael. She took a step closer to the mirror and pulled the dressing gown around her, tying it loosely. Her face was pale, gaunt; she could see fear reflected in her eyes.

Turning away, she walked to her bed and, picking up the clothes she had laid out earlier, she slowly started to dress herself. Her doctor had told her that if she felt she needed to see him at any time all she had to do was call. Michael had made sure of that. He had probably offered the doctor what he would call a ‘sweetener’, but which was, in reality, a very large amount of money – hard cash and tax free. She wasn’t complaining though. She sat on the side of the bed and, bending over carefully, she slipped her maternity knickers over her feet. Michael called them her ‘passion killers’. She stood up and pulled them into place.