He sat down behind his desk, and busied himself going over the invoices for the alcohol and food. He had a good manager in – the guy was young, granted, but so was Michael – and he had known him for a long time. He trusted him implicitly, and knew that Paulie O’Keefe had the gift of numbers. He could not only keep two sets of books going – a must for anyone in a cash business like this – but he also had the added bonus of being big enough and ugly enough to ensure that people would think twice before they crossed him. Michael and Paulie were a good team. The only way he could survive was by surrounding himself with people he could trust. He had learnt that from Patrick Costello.

There was a gentle tapping on the door and, sitting back in his chair, Michael called out, ‘Come in.’

As expected, Paulie O’Keefe entered the room. With the heavy build of an Irish navvy, he seemed to fill the room with his presence. Michael was a tall man, but Paulie was big everywhere, from his huge legs, like tree trunks, to his giant head. He had short, thick red hair and small piercing blue eyes. His mouth was thick-lipped, and he had a nose that seemed to have been flattened across his cheeks. He had the look of the fool about him, but Michael knew that he was actually a genius, especially when it came to numbers. He was perfect for the job in hand and, once people got over his appearance, they soon learnt that nothing got past him.

‘Fucking hell, Paulie, you seem to grow bigger every time I see you!’

Paulie laughed. ‘What can I say, Michael, I like me grub.’

Paulie sat down gently in the large leather club-chair opposite Michael and, taking out a pack of Benson & Hedges, he lit one leisurely.

‘Well, we are well in profit, Michael. It’s like printing dough, honestly.’

Michael nodded in agreement. ‘I know. I went over everything last night. This place is already paying for itself. Everyone’s happy, I can tell you that.’

Paulie smiled, acknowledging the compliment. Then, leaning forward in his chair, he said quietly, ‘There is one bugbear though, Michael, and I can’t do anything about it without your say-so.’

Michael frowned. There weren’t many things on God’s green earth that Paulie O’Keefe couldn’t sort out by himself. Michael felt a distinct tightening in his guts, and prepared himself for bad news.

‘Come on then, Paulie. Out with it.’