She had waited until Brendan returned to Anglesea Street because she wanted to tell him about the operation in person – Operation Hubbard, she had called it, after Old Mother Hubbard who found that her cupboard was bare, just like the Riordans would go to The Weavers and find no O’Flynns there. He would find it much more difficult if he had to tell her face-to-face to pull the plug on it. She could suggest that he was lacking the nerve to tackle the Riordans head-on, in case they retaliated, as they once had before by setting a Garda squad car on fire.

‘You don’t have to wait until they’re so buckled they’re dead to the world,’ she could tell him. ‘Not like you did with me.’

Apart from that, the operation was now well advanced, and he would have to face serious questions about his motives if he were to call it off. Overtime had been allocated, vehicles had been diverted, armaments had been withdrawn, and a great deal of time and money would have been wasted.

Earlier this morning, Superintendent Pearse had arranged with the local Bord Gáis manager, Denis O’Halloran, to borrow fluorescent jackets and ID cards, as well as a Bord Gáis van, and two gardaí dressed as emergency gas fitters had visited The Weavers to warn the landlord of a major gas leak. Obviously, from what Muireann had told her, that part of Operation Hubbard had already worked, and the O’Flynn party had been called off.

Katie sipped her coffee and unhurriedly ate one chocolate biscuit to keep herself totally calm. Although she had assured Kieran that she wasn’t frightened by flying bullets, her nerves were still seriously jangled by yesterday evening’s attempt on her life, and last night she had managed to sleep for less than half an hour. She had sat up in bed, shaking, not sure where she was, feeling as if somebody had suddenly shouted in her ear, and she had settled herself down again only by saying a prayer.

‘Go raibh maith agat, a Thiarna, as ligean dom a fheiceáil, Bás ag teacht nuair a bhagair sé orm – Thank you, Lord, for allowing me to see, Death coming when he threatened me.’

She had said that prayer twice before during her career, and she had always hoped that she would never have to say it again.

Brendan was talking on the phone when she knocked at the door of his office, but he flapped his hand to beckon her in, and once she was in he flapped his hand again to indicate that she should sit down.