Read Online Danny Dempsey and the Unlikely Alliance by Denis Byrne - Free Book Online Page B

seventy-one. He’d planned to give up his post on his seventieth birthday, but had agreed to carry on for a further year after being requested to do so by the Minister of Finance until a suitable replacement could be appointed. Financial experts of the calibre of Matthew Dawson weren’t too easily replaced. Without thinking, he made to put his hand in his jacket pocket. Needles reacted immediately, grabbing his wrist, then sticking his own hand into Matthew’s pocket. They came out holding a phial of pills.
    â€˜They’re for my heart,’ Matthew said coldly, determined not to give these thugs the satisfaction of showing the slightest sign of fear, ‘I need to take one now, if you don’t mind.’
    â€˜Be my guest,’ Needles said, handing him the phial. ‘For a minute there I thought you might be carrying.’
    â€˜Good old Needles!’ Dapper laughed. ‘Always looking out for spanners in the works! You wanna to be careful he don’t have a couple of derringers strapped to his ankles, or you could wind up as mortuary meat.’
    Needles watched Mathew Dawson slip a pill into his mouth, roll it around to mix with his saliva, then swallow it. He hated going on jobs with Desmond. Needles was always on edge until everything was successfully completed. And Dapper was forever ribbing him about it. Needles was five foot nothing, built like a refill for a biro, and had a face akin to an enraged ferret. In contrast, Dapper Desmond was six- three, had the well-toned body of a professional athlete and, just to rub it in as far as Needles was concerned, looked like Brad Pitt’s brother, only better looking. And he hated the way Desmond insisted on talking as though he’d stepped right out of some American gangster movie. Here’s the deal! Pops! Got it!
    Sometimes Needles found himself slipping into the same way of talking, and when he thought about it later, he always wanted to kick himself for unconsciously imitating someone he both envied and disliked so much, the man who’d been responsible for giving him the nickname he detested. Needles! Dapper had pinned it on him about two seconds after he found out how easy it was to get under his skin.
    Gerald Casey kept his eyes firmly on the road ahead. He was feeling a little guilty for the part he’d played in his boss’s kidnapping. But only a little, especially after he found out he’d no other option. He’d been made an offer he couldn’t refuse.
    *
    When he’d been approached some months ago one night as he was having a drink in his local public house, he initially refused point-blank to have anything to do with it. He was sitting at the bar, reading the racing results. Two men came in and sat either side of him on the high stools running the length of the counter. He didn’t pay either of them much attention, being more interested in seeing if Flapjack had won the four-thirty at Kempton.
    It was the favourite. Gerald had fifty Euros on him to win at odds of six to four. Just his luck Flapjack had had an off day. Not only had he not won, he hadn’t even finished the race, unseating his jockey a furlong from home, before trailing in riderless after the rest of the field. Sometimes Gerald wondered why he bothered. And swore to himself he was going to give up the gee-gees as a bad job, though knew in his heart he’d be into the bookies tomorrow as usual, trying to recoup his lifelong losses.
    Gerald was addicted to gambling. He was a devout member of the bookmaker’s benevolent society, someone who’d never be satisfied until he’d passed over the last of his money to ensure those gentlemen continued to live in large houses and enjoyed an opulent lifestyle. Not that Gerald ever thought about it in those exact terms. He just loved the excitement of gambling, and would never for a second admit, even to himself, much less anyone else, that he was an addict.
    He folded up the