Patrick laughed loudly. ‘You look the dog’s knob! All that old bollocks in the Bible about clothes don’t make the man – they fucking do! A nice bit of clobber makes you feel good about yourself. You can wear a suit well and all, boy, you’ve got the build for it.’

Michael didn’t know how to accept the compliment, so he took a large gulp of his whisky and soda. He had started drinking Scotch because the Costellos were whisky drinkers. But, if he was honest, he didn’t really like the taste.

‘You did well this week, Michael – I’m pleased.’ Patrick swallowed down his drink, and motioned to the barman for another.

The juke box came on suddenly, and drowned out the noise of the men talking. It was ‘Unchained Melody’ by The Righteous Brothers. Michael sighed with contentment; he loved this song. He guessed that one of the older men had put it on and, as he glanced around the packed bar, he felt a thrill that he was part of this world.

Patrick motioned with his head, and Michael followed him through the throng to the men’s toilets. Inside, Patrick waited patiently for the men using the urinal to leave. Michael noticed that they each did just that. He was impressed with Patrick’s ability to get whatever he wanted.

Once they were alone, Patrick looked into the large mirror that took up half the wall and, as he smoothed his hair down, he said quietly, ‘I need you to sort something out for me.’

Michael nodded. ‘Whatever you need, Patrick. You know that.’

Patrick turned from the mirror. ‘You’re a good kid, Michael. You are going to go far.’

He faced the mirror once again, admiring himself from all angles. He had this young lad’s total loyalty, he already knew that. The boy had a natural decency about him, he was a straight arrow there was no doubt.

‘I need you to take out Terry Gold, Michael. He has to disappear off the face of the earth, and it has to be done as quietly and as unobtrusively as possible. No one can know that we were involved. This is just between you and me, no one else can ever know about it.’

Michael was shocked, but he knew better than to show that. Instead he looked into Patrick Costello’s eyes. He could see the man searching his face for some kind of reaction. The air around them was suddenly heavy, full of menace. In this game, Michael was well aware he would be asked to prove his worth, his loyalty time and again. He couldn’t lose his nerve if he wanted to be a serious player in the Life. He had to show that he was capable of anything that might be asked of him. So he shrugged nonchalantly, aware that he had just made a life-changing decision.

‘Consider it done.’

Chapter Six

Chapter Six