Chapters (155)

He looked at Declan, knew that the man was not sure about the latest developments. That wasn’t unexpected, but he knew Declan would go along with him as always. ‘We are going to do it tonight, mate. I’ve arranged a sit down at the scrapyard.’

Declan nodded his agreement, as Michael knew he would.

‘I think I’ve been good, actually. Normally, I would have taken them out much earlier. But now I’ve had enough.’

Chapter Sixty-Five

Jermaine O’Shay was wary. He didn’t trust Michael Flynn as far as he could throw him. As far as Jermaine was concerned, Palmer should have been removed from the equation the minute he fucked up. But Michael Flynn had been determined to find a way to sort everything out. He had understood Jermaine’s problem – had agreed with him, sympathised – but he had still wanted him to let it go. He had even asked him to swallow as a personal favour to him.

As if that was ever going to happen. Jeffrey Palmer wasn’t a cunt, but by the same token, he had tried to treat Jermaine like one. Palmer had a good rep, was well-liked, but then so was he. This was about respect, and Michael Flynn needed to understand that. His assurance that he had sorted everything out just wasn’t good enough. It had gone pear-shaped from day one. Palmer had tried to tuck him up and there was no way Jermaine O’Shay was going to back down. He was going mob-handed to this meet and, if it all went off, he would be prepared.

Chapter Sixty-Six

Jeffrey Palmer sipped his whisky, and felt himself relax. This had not been anything like he had expected. Declan and Michael were both friendly and chatty, making sure he was comfortable, asking if he needed anything else.

The scrapyard was legendary, and this was the first time he had been there. Everyone knew that this was where Michael and Patrick had conducted their real business. It was also a big earner in its own right; he had been told that over a million pounds worth of scrap went through the place every year.

‘I hope we can sort everything tonight, Jeff. I don’t like discord within my workforce. It causes unnecessary aggro for everyone.’

Jeffrey sipped his drink, savouring the taste of the whisky. ‘You know I don’t want it either, mate. I dropped a fucking big bollock, and if I could fucking take it back I would. I just got a bit overenthusiastic, that’s all. I was blinded by the earn.’

Michael laughed at the man’s honesty. ‘Well, you will know for the future.’

The headlights from a car played over the ceiling, and Michael got up from his chair behind the dilapidated desk, and walked to the door. Opening it wide, he said gaily, ‘Get yourself in, mate. It’s fucking freezing.’