Tom would be first in, which was how it should be. If the reshuffle wasn’t to his liking, he could withdraw his men from government. He could sink the ship and precipitate a political crisis, maybe even an election. Not that this was likely: he’d already been sounded out about the Department of Justice. The taoiseach had raised it ten days earlier after a cabinet sub-committee meeting on Brexit. ‘Hypothetically speaking,’ he’d said, ‘if I offered you Justice, would you be interested?’

Tom had paused before reciting some appropriate lines about enjoying the complexities of his current brief, then adding, ‘If, however, an even greater challenge was to come my way, I could hardly turn it down.’

The boss boomed on about how Tom had seized the initiative on the Avondhu attack and on Cyril Dinan. Then he spoke about his background: ‘Your own family being victims of crime,’ he said, ‘and your best friend getting shot while serving the state, you should make sure people don’t forget about these things. Nowadays, it’s all about empathy. Voters want to think you can relate to their suffering.’

Tom nodded. ‘I get you.’

‘And, of course, if you were to find yourself in Justice, you’d have to get tough with the gardaí. I don’t know what they’re doing, but too many serious crimes aren’t being solved. Every day of the week, I have to listen to people complaining that the gangsters are getting away with it. We keep being told that witnesses are scared to give evidence. That has to stop.’

‘Indeed,’ said Tom, as the boss walked away.

A series of low-level arrests and a few well-publicised seizures of cash and drugs had drawn some of the sting from the feud, but the main players remained out of reach. Neither had there been any let-up in the supply of drugs. Paige had told him that, in Templemorris, buying a bag of heroin was no more difficult than buying a bag of potatoes. Without wishing to sound pompous, Tom thought of the Department of Justice as the natural culmination of everything he’d done. Okay, it did sound pompous, but that didn’t make it untrue. When rivals had been warming their backsides in solicitors’ offices or coining it in the courts, he’d been running community campaigns and persuading young guys to make something of themselves.

Eyebrows were being raised about the timing of the reshuffle, with critics inside and outside government claiming it was too soon. ‘The current lot are only in their jobs five minutes,’ went the complaint. ‘They should be allowed a bit of time.’ Tom didn’t agree. An overhaul was needed. Doing it now meant that ministers with new portfolios would have the Christmas break to read themselves into the brief. He’d expected more of a fight from the current justice minister, but word had it that he was in line for a sinecure in Brussels.