'The way you want it?' Meehan said and the anger was beginning to break through now.

Albert tossed the poker into the fireplace and stood up. He spoke in a rough, hoarse voice. 'Which arm shall I break first, Mr Meehan? His left or his right?'

Fallon pulled out the Ceska and fired instantly. The bullet splintered Albert's right kneecap and he went back over the chair. He lay there cursing, clutching his knee with both hands, blood pumping between his fingers.

For a moment, nobody moved and then Meehan laughed out loud. 'Didn't I tell you he was beautiful?' he said to Billy.

Fallon picked up the envelope and stowed it away in his raincoat. He backed into the kitchen without a word, kicked the door shut as Meehan called out to him and started down the stairs.

In the lounge, Meehan grabbed his coat and made for the lift. 'Come on, Billy!'

As he got the door open, Donner called, 'What about Albert?'

'Call that Pakistani doctor. The one who was struck off. He'll fix him up.'

As the lift dropped to the ground floor Billy said, 'Look, what are we up to?'

'Just follow me and do as you're bleeding well told,' Meehan said.

He ran along the corridor, through the hall and out of the front door. Fallon had reached the other side of the road and was taking one of the paths that led across the green centre of the square.

Meehan called to him and ran across the road, ignoring the traffic. The Irishman glanced over his shoulder but kept on walking and had reached the fountain before Meehan and Billy caught up with him.

He turned to face them, his right hand in his pocket and Meehan put up a hand defensively. 'I just want to talk.'

He dropped on to a bench seat, slightly breathless, and took out a handkerchief to wipe his face. Billy arrived a moment later just as the rain increased suddenly from a steady drizzle into a solid downpour.

He said, 'This is crazy. My bloody suit's going to be ruined.'

His brother ignored him and grinned up at Fallon disarmingly. 'You're hell on wheels, aren't you, Fallon? There isn't a tearaway in town who wouldn't run from Fat Albert, but you.' He laughed uproariously. 'You put him on sticks for six months.'

'He shouldn't have joined,' Fallon said.

'Too bloody true, but to hell with Albert. You were right, Fallon, about the priest, I mean.' Fallon showed no emotion at all, simply stood there watching him and Meehan laughed. 'Scout's honour. I won't lay a glove on him.'

'I see,' Fallon said. 'A change of heart?'

'Exactly, but it still leaves us with a problem. What to do with you till that boat leaves Sunday. I think maybe you should go back to the farm.'

'No chance,' Fallon said.

'Somehow I thought you might say that.' Meehan smiled good-humouredly. 'Still, we've got to find you something.' He turned to Billy. 'What about Jenny? Jenny Fox. Couldn't she put him up?'

'I suppose so,' Billy said sullenly.

'A nice kid,' Meehan told Fallon. 'She's worked for me in the past. I helped her out when she was having a kid. She owes me a favour.'

'She's a whore,' Billy said.

'So what?' Meehan shrugged. 'A nice, safe house and not too far away. Billy can run you up there.'

He smiled genially - even the eyes smiled - but Fallon wasn't taken in for a moment. On the other hand, the sober truth was that he did need somewhere to stay.

'All right,' he said.

Meehan put an arm around his shoulders. 'You couldn't do better. She cooks like a dream, that girl, and when it comes to dropping her pants she's a little firecracker, I can tell you.'

They went back across the square and followed the mews round to the car park at the rear. The whippet was crouched at the entrance, shivering in the rain. When Billy appeared, it ran to heel and followed him into the garage. When he drove out in a scarlet Scimitar, it was sitting in the rear.

Fallon slipped into the passenger seat and Meehan closed the door. 'I'd stick pretty close to home if I were you. No sense in running any needless risks at this stage, is there?'

Fallon didn't say a word and Billy drove away. The door to the reception room opened and Donner came out. 'I've rung for that quack, Mr Meehan. What happened to Fallon?'

'Billy's taking him up to Jenny Fox's place,' Meehan said. 'I want you to go over to the car wash and get hold of Varley. I want him outside Jenny's place within half an hour. If Fallon leaves, he follows and phones in whenever he can.'

'I don't follow, Mr Meehan.' Donner was obviously mystified.

'Just till we sort things out, Frank,' Meehan told him. 'Then we drop both of them. Him and the priest.'

Donner grinned as a great light dawned. 'That's more like it.'

'I thought you'd approve,' Meehan smiled, opened the door and went inside.

* * *

Jenny Fox was a small, rather hippy girl of nineteen with good breasts, high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes. Her straight black hair hung shoulder-length in a dark curtain and the only flaw in the general picture was the fact that she had too much make-up on.

When she came downstairs she was wearing a simple, white blouse, black pleated mini skirt and high-heeled shoes and she walked with a sort of general and total movement of the whole body that most men found more than a little disturbing.

Billy Meehan waited for her at the bottom of the stairs and when she was close enough, he slipped a hand up her skirt. She stiffened slightly and he shook his head, a sly, nasty smile on his face.

'Tights again, Jenny. I told you I wanted you to wear stockings.'

'I'm sorry, Billy.' There was fear in her eyes. 'I didn't know you'd be coming today.'

'You'd better watch it, hadn't you, or you'll be getting one of my specials.' She shivered slightly and he withdrew his hand. 'What about Fallon? Did he say anything?'

'Asked me if I had a razor he could borrow. Who is he?'

'None of your business. He shouldn't go out, but if he does, give Jack a ring straight away. And try to find out where he's going.'

'All right, Billy.' She opened the front door for him.

He moved in close behind her, his arms about her waist. She could feel his hardness pressed against her buttocks and the hatred, the loathing rose like bile in her throat, threatening to choke her. He said softly, 'Another thing. Get him into bed. I want to see what makes him tick.'

'And what if he won't play? she said.

'Stocking tops and suspenders. That's what blokes of his age go for. You'll manage.' He slapped her bottom and went out. She closed the door, leaning against it for a moment, struggling for breath. Strange how he always left her with that feeling of suffocation.

She went upstairs, moved along the corridor and knocked softly on Fallon's door. When she went in, he was standing in front of the washbasin in the corner by the window, drying his hands.

'I'll see if I can find you that razor now,' she said.

He hung the towel neatly over the rail and shook his head. 'It'll do later. I'm going out for a while.'

She was gripped by a sudden feeling of panic. 'Is that wise?' she said. 'I mean, where are you going?'

Fallon smiled as he pulled on his trench-coat. He ran a finger down her nose in a strangely intimate gesture that brought a lump to her throat.

'Girl dear, do what you have to, which I presume means ringing Jack Meehan to say I'm taking a walk, but I'm damned if I'll say where to.'

'Will you be in for supper?'

'I wouldn't miss it for all the tea in China.' He smiled and was gone.

It was an old-fashioned phrase. One her grandmother had used frequently. She hadn't heard it in years. Strange how it made her want to cry.