Michael handed the photograph to Declan. ‘So, Timothy, let me see if I’ve got this right. Basically, he left the nut house three weeks ago, he cleared his bank account, and he is now on the missing list with twelve grand and, to add insult to injury, without his meds, he has a seriously bad fucking attitude?’

Timothy Branch didn’t know what he could say to that. He was hoping that someone spied the fucker somewhere, so he could help Michael to track him down.

Declan passed the photograph back to Michael. ‘Fuck me, Michael, what a smooth-looking bastard he is! Mouth full of dog ends, and a face like a bag of fucking hammers. At least he won’t be hard to pick out in a crowd!’

Michael Flynn smiled; Declan could make him laugh even at a time like this.

‘If he’s got my Jessie, he has had to rent somewhere for cash. We need to get our blokes out there asking around. Like you say, Declan, it’s not like they wouldn’t fucking remember him, is it? He isn’t exactly the answer to a maiden’s prayer.’

Timothy Branch stood up, a bundle of nerves once more. ‘I will get all my people out there. I will let you know if I hear anything.’

Michael Flynn didn’t even bother to answer. This man was useless in every way.

When Branch had left, Declan said with incredulity, ‘How the fuck can these people just be allowed out of the nut farms? No one is monitoring them, looking out for them – they just let them go out into the community without a fucking thought. It’s outrageous.’

Michael Flynn agreed with his friend. ‘I tell you this much, Declan – if anything bad happens to my Jessie, whoever signed that cunt out of the funny farm had better be a fucking good runner, because I will hunt them into the ground. I will make sure they never have that kind of responsibility again.’

Declan grinned. ‘You’re preaching to the converted, Michael. I will be right beside you, mate. But, remember, now we know what he looks like.’

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Two

Chapter One Hundred
and Twenty-Two

The pavement was alight with rumours. Jessie Flynn was missing and there was a fifty-grand reward up for grabs, so it was in everyone’s best interests to keep an eye out. Now they were being shown a photograph of a right strange-looking cove. It wasn’t as if it would be hard to pick him out of a line up. The word was out.