Declan Costello had been drinking heavily all day long, but he was still as sober as a judge. There wasn’t enough alcohol in the world to get him drunk at this particular moment in time. He had really dropped the fucking ball. He should have had Michael Flynn’s back from the off. He had happily taken a good wedge from Michael, he had been expected to sort out the minor businesses as he had always done, as well as any aggravation that might cross his path – especially any that might impinge on the serious businesses. He had become lazy; he had waited on Michael’s word for everything, and that wasn’t the deal – he knew that.

The Cornel brothers should have been taken out by him quickly and quietly, and Michael should never have had to be involved personally. Michael should have been told the details afterwards, secure in the knowledge that a threat like them had been dealt with. Instead, the Cornels had made it all the way to Michael Flynn’s front door, and he had not even given the man’s family any protection. The man’s wife and daughter had been left hanging, vulnerable and defenceless, and that was his fault. The fact that Josephine had apparently turned into Bonnie Parker aside, Declan was aware that he had a lot to answer for.

He had fucked up. Michael was going to come for him, and he had no defence to offer. His brother Patrick, who had loved him dearly, would never have swallowed that – Declan would already be dead by now. Declan couldn’t forgive himself for the trouble he had caused.

He looked across the bar; there were only two barmaids in – the club was very quiet today. The barmaids were both good girls. Estelle was in her fifties, but she looked good for her age – she could serve three people at once, and she was also adept at removing drunks if the need arose. She was all bleached-blond hair and long red nails. The other girl was a lot younger, perma-tanned, with thick, dark hair, heavily made-up brown eyes and impossibly pert breasts; she was on the look-out for a Face with a good few quid and preferably his own home. She had given him the nod more than once, but he could never remember her name for the life of him.

‘Come on, girls, off you go. I’m locking up early today.’

Estelle had her coat on in seconds, and Declan watched gratefully as she steered the other barmaid up the stairs. He heard the door slam shut behind them.