Hence on the day of the funerals he was in the visiting room of Barlinnie sitting in a sullen silence while his sister and young brother George endeavoured, without success, to cheer him up. Their chances of success could be measured on a scale running from zero to less than zero. Even the news that Kevin Boyle would soon be pushing up the daisies raised his spirits not one whit.

‘What’s your QC saying?’, his brother asked cautiously.

‘He never says anything.’

‘He must say something.’

‘OK, OK, he asks a whole load of stupid fucking questions. Sucks his stinking fucking pipe. Asks more stupid fucking questions. When I tell him I know fuck all about fuck all, he goes on about the jury needing “rather more than that”. Rather more than fucking what? Whose side is the bastard on anyway?’

‘Come on, Charlie, take it easy. He’s just doing his job. He’s supposed to be the best there is.’

‘If he’s so fucking smart, why doesn’t he get me out of this shithole?’

‘You know why, Charlie. Jack has explained it to you umpteen times.’

‘Words. All I get are fucking words. When is some fucker going to do something. This place is doing my head in and you tell me to take it easy. Well fuck you! Fuck the lot of you!’

Charlie motioned to his sister and stormed out of the room. The visit was over.

The mobile phone was answered on the first ring. The conversation was abrupt but conveyed everything the parties had to say to each other.

‘That you?’

‘Of course.’

‘You got the message?’

‘Yes.’

‘Enough?’

‘Very generous.’

‘Don’t make any plans to return to Glasgow, ever.’

‘No need, for now.’

‘Ever.’

‘Fair enough. Charlie?’

‘Charged.’

‘Kevin’s?’

‘Yes.’

‘What about the other one?’

‘Not your concern.’

‘If you say so. You’re the boss.’

‘Believe it.’

The line went dead.

‘James, it’s Jack Morton, sorry to call you so late.’

‘Yes, Jack. What can I do for you?’

‘We need to have a chat fairly urgently. I’ve just discovered two new pieces of evidence.’

‘Why do I get the distinct impression that I’m not going to like what you are about to tell me?’

‘Your client has appar...’.

‘Oh I get it! Suddenly he’s my client. There was me thinking he was our client.’

‘James, this is serious. There’s a confession. Actually there’s two confessions.’

‘I thought we had all the police statements – there’s no hint of any admission.’

‘It’s not quite as simple as that. Only one is a cop, the other is a civilian. And it gets better than that. The cop is someone we might not even have bothered interviewing. On the face of it he was just a boy who watched Gallagher during a gap in the taped interview. Seems the client decided to confess all to him.’