The Business Read Online Free Page A

up when the fines had been requested was something for the briefs to argue, all Jason knew was that he had a few hours’ grace until the man came home, and in that few hours he was going to give his wife the seeing-to of a lifetime.
    The woman opened the door with a wide smile and the minimum of clothing and Jason was inside the front door before the two men observing him from the house opposite had time to comment about him to each other. Even though they were shocked at the boy’s blatant temerity, to be visiting this particular man’s wife on such an auspicious occasion was outrageous to say the least, that they were also impressed with his front, his bravado, was a given. Anyone who would risk their life for a quick feel had their vote, and even though they knew that he was a wrong one, a fucking muppet, they both felt a grudging respect for him, for his guts, for his absolute bottle. Laughing loudly, they shook their heads sagely at one another. He was a lad all right and, as far as they were concerned, he was to be applauded, but they kept that gem of wisdom to themselves.
     
    Gerald Dooley was smiling, and young Declan had the sense to mimic his new boss’s behaviour.
    Colin Baxter, a junkie with an unfortunate amphetamine habit coupled with a complete inability to pick a winning horse, now owed what amounted to the national debt, not only to his dealer, but also to his bookie, who happened to be one and the same person.
    When the kettle finally boiled Gerald took it off the gas and, motioning to Declan, waited patiently until Colin was safely held over the sink, his head about two inches from the china bottom, his arms wrenched painfully behind his back.
    Leaning over the whimpering man Gerald said quietly, ‘I warned you, Col, and you fucking mugged me off.’
    Colin was straining with all the strength he possessed against young Declan’s superior strength, terror giving him an extra spurt of energy.
    ‘Please, Mr Dooley, I’ll have the money later. I am due a few quid, money I’m owed . . .’ His voice was hoarse with fright, with the knowledge that he had finally reached the end of his road.
    ‘Too late, Colin . . .’
    As the water gushed from the kettle on to his head and neck Colin screamed, the sound like that of an animal. It was high-pitched and laden with anguish. He fought with every ounce of his strength to avoid the torrent, only making it harder for himself in the long run.
    Like Gerald, his captor had no feelings of remorse or sorrow. Young Declan just watched it with a quiet interest, concentrating on holding his prey still while he learnt exactly how these things were done.
    He knew he wasn’t Einstein, but he also knew he was a quick study, and that meant the difference between a good living and some serious wedge.
    He wanted to earn the wedge, and he wanted it sooner rather than later. Gerald Dooley was his ticket to the stars and he felt honoured to have such a teacher.
    Gerald winked at him gamely, nothing he did in the pursuit of his occupation was ever done with malice. But it was always done with a certain aplomb. After all, without a decent rep he wouldn’t even be employed. He didn’t love his job as such, but he knew he was a one-off, knew that he was known as a man who got things done quickly and succinctly. His real forte was that he made sure no one had to clean up after him and in their game that was the main requisite.
    If he was asked to demand something, he would get it by any means, and his secret was that he never discussed those means with anyone. He was a hard man, by nature and by reputation, that was his strength.
     
    Imelda could smell the cloying aroma of colcannon, she had loved the smell until her pregnancy. Now the aroma of cabbage and grease made her stomach turn. As she forced herself to take deep breaths, she felt the terror of her situation once more. She knew that she had to get it out in the open, had to tell her mother before she either worked it out