Katie and Kyna and Detective O’Donovan walked through the bars, past the bodies of the three dead gangsters. In the street outside it was still raining hard. Uniformed gardaí had arrested the drivers of the three getaway cars, including Nocky. Even though Nocky hadn’t been wearing his trademark orange cap, he had been recognized at once. He was standing in the middle of the road, handcuffed and soaking wet, rain dripping from the end of his nose, the picture of human misery. A Garda van had been reversed down the slope, its blue lights flashing, and the remaining seven gang members were being jostled inside.

‘I’m only sorry that Barry Riordan wasn’t here in person,’ said Katie, looking around. ‘In fact, I’m amazed. I would have thought that nothing in the world could have stopped him from coming to see Maddie O’Flynn’s twenty-first birthday party being wrecked.’

‘I don’t know… it doesn’t surprise me that much,’ said Detective O’Donovan. ‘I’m not the only one who’s noticed that your man’s been keeping a pure low profile in the past few months. Even lower than usual. DS Dempsey mentioned it to me only last week. Like, where’s Barry?’

‘You’re right. There was no sign of him at all, was there, when we lifted those five fellows at The Shamrock Club with all that crack, and they were all Riordan’s men. And you can’t tell me that he wasn’t behind that hit on Billy Hagerty. In the old days he would have gone looking for Billy and shot him himself.’

‘Do you know, I firmly believe that it’s you that’s keeping his head down,’ said Kyna.

‘Me?’

‘Yes, I’m sure of it. The papers may have been putting you down all right, but I think Barry Riordan wised up to the fact quite some time ago that you’ve been putting plans together to break up his gang, and all the other gangs, too, and he respects you.’

‘Mother of God. I don’t know if I’m flattered to be respected by the sleaziest scummer in Cork.’

‘This raid today, ma’am – my guess is that it was supposed to be a warning to everybody in Cork not to mess with the Riordans, do you know? Informers, enemy gang members, rival drug-dealers, you name it. And us, too. This was supposed to show that Barry Riordan is the King of Crime. Untouchable.’

‘Right,’ said Katie. ‘Let’s ship the survivors down to the station to be interviewed. We only need one of them to squeal and admit that this raid was initiated by Barry Riordan and we have him. With any luck, the king is about to lose his crown.’

She watched as Sharky was carried out on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance, with an umbrella held over him.