But you’re colder still
And for the first time
I feel like you’re mine
I’ll share you with the one who will
Mend what falls apart and turn
A blind eye to the thief of your heart
–The Thief of your Heart: Sinead O’Connor
Four hours later Bobby and Caitlin stood at the end of the concrete pier. The cold grey of the city rose behind them in the dawn light. Caitlin was pale, wrapped against the pinching wind in jeans, boots a black duffel coat and a scarf. Hunched into the coat, she looked up at Bobby, her blue eyes hard. Bobby patted the trunk of the nondescript white Ford sedan parked behind him.
“Schultz,” he said. “He got greedy.”
Bobby looked down to the river raging below them.
“You know Michael was planning to leave the business? For you. For the baby. Schultz set it up. Organised the paperwork, the passports. But it was all a joke. A play. Michael needed somewhere to park the money and Schultz had all the answers. He might have sent an eejit to finish Michael off. But it was his word that got the job done. Caitlin. Shultz is history. I’ve got his boyo here in the car. And Michael fought back, girl, you should know that.” Bobby patted the car again. “This boy’s got a nasty gash in his side. The least of his worries now.”
Bobby turned and opened the boot. A gagged, bound and bleeding man lay unconscious in the gloom.
“Tom Gerrity,” Caitlin said in surprise.
“Aye,” grunted Bobby. “This is the weasel who knifed Michael. He’s not dead yet, but he will be. Soon. But for now, we’ve got to keep him safe. He’s been on Schulz’s payroll for years. And fortunately for us, he kept records. Of every deal. Every hit. Every shake down. Not bad for an ignorant mick.”
Caitlin took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Bobby. He killed Michael. What do you mean keep him safe? How are we going to take down Schultz? He’s untouchable.”
Bobby lent into the boot, past the body of the prostrate man and pulled out a plastic wallet, filled with documents, clippings and hand scrawled notes.
“With this, Cait, with this.”