Katie was opening her front door at Carrig View when her iPhone rang. She shooed Barney and Foltchain into the kitchen and then said, ‘DS Maguire.’

‘It’s Robert, ma’am. There’s been a shooting on Parnell Place. Four men down. Two Riordans and two O’Flynns.’

‘All dead?’

‘I’m there now. They’re all extinct, yes, and we know all of them. Rory Madden and Gavin Garvey, both of them Barry Riordan’s men. Darragh Colfer and Milo Milligan, the one they call “Milo the Minder”. Both of them O’Flynns.’

‘No civilians hurt? No collateral damage?’

‘No, thank God. A broken window at The Welcome Inn, but that’s all. Fortunately there was nobody sitting behind it.’

‘Have you retrieved the weapons?’

‘One Glock 17 and one Sig-Sauer P226.’

‘Mother of God, this has been coming for a long time, hasn’t it? It’s open war. Keep me posted, Robert. We’ll have an emergency meeting first thing tomorrow. I’m determined to crush those O’Flynns and Riordans once and for all.’

*

Davey Horgan said, ‘I have to drain da snake, lads, and then get back to the auld doll. She was cooking me something special tonight, drisheen I’ll bet, and she’ll be after giving me the seven shows of Cork for coming home late.’

He stood up from the table where he was sitting with Barry Riordan and three other members of Riordan’s gang. He staggered a little but managed to hold on to the back of his chair to regain his balance. All five of them had been drinking here at The Cotton Ball since lunchtime, drowning their grief at the loss of three of their number at The Weavers and the arrest of eight more. They hadn’t yet heard the news about Big Rory Madden and Gavin Garvey.

Seven pints of Murphy’s and some melancholy songs from Sally O’Dare and the Cider Boys had only made them sadder and angrier and increasingly incoherent. Barry couldn’t stop threatening to cleave the tripes out of all the O’Flynns and every garda he came across, but the reality was that his gang had been seriously depleted and he was fearful that he would no longer be able to exert the same control over the city’s drugs business, especially in Blackpool and Ardpatrick and Farranree. It wasn’t only the O’Flynns who concerned him: there were plenty of other violent gangs who would jump in and try to take over if they caught the slightest hint that the Riordans no longer had the strength to hit back at them.

Davey weaved his way past the bar to the men’s toilets. He pushed the door open with his shoulder and went inside, already unzipping his fly before he had reached the urinals. Another drinker was just finishing off, giving himself a shake and wiping his hands on his trousers before shuffling back to the bar.