Michael laughed loudly; he had heard this before, many times. He knew that Jermaine was proud of his Irish heritage, and even more proud of his Jamaican roots.
Jeffrey sipped his drink, and was pleased when he realised it was a good Irish malt. Like Jermaine, he had not been looking forward to this meeting; he had only dealt with the men who worked for Jermaine until now. A few keys here and there, mainly cocaine, and a lot of grass. When possible, he scored some Blond. Lebanese Gold was a really sought after product. Unlike the Black, that came from Afghanistan, the Gold always guaranteed a mellow buzz. There was a lot of Blond coming in from the States – Acapulco Gold – but it was the Lebanese that people were willing to pay for.
Michael was quiet, watching the two men as they circled each other. He knew that neither man wanted it, but both these men would do their best to accommodate him. He supplied their wages because, without his permission, they basically couldn’t operate. He was in the wonderful position of allowing people to earn without hindrance. If he was involved, he could guarantee the minimum police interference, and the opportunity to work with like-minded individuals, giving them the chance to not only expand their businesses, but also their earnings.
‘Jeffrey, if you do take over from Michael, we will have to meet regularly, at least twice a week. I need to know everything at least a month in advance. I’m sure Michael has explained all that.’
Jeffrey was surprised to find he was almost enjoying himself. Jermaine O’Shay was a man much like himself, aware of his own capabilities, and who disliked change. Like himself, Jermaine had no option but to work with whoever Michael Flynn told him to work with. That was a difficult thing for men like them, who were the head of their own firms, and respected by the people they employed. He was now on Jermaine O’Shay’s turf, in the man’s own drinking club, so he had to be the one who bent over. Like Michael Flynn, Jeffrey knew the value of humility, how it could be used to gain an advantage. It was a deadly weapon if employed properly. It could mask the violence that lurked underneath.
‘Oh, yeah, I understand how this needs to work, mate. I just hope you are OK about us working together. I’ve been in touch with some of your boys for a while now, as I’m sure you already know. Now that Michael has given me this opportunity, I just want to make a success of it.’
Michael was impressed. He had hoped that Jeffrey Palmer would understand the situation with Jermaine, and work with him, but he had not expected Jeffrey Palmer, who could turn on a coin if the fancy took him, to humble himself for the greater good. It pleased him; he felt he had chosen wisely.
Jermaine O’Shay walked back behind the bar and, bringing back the bottle of malt, he poured them each another large drink, before saying sincerely, ‘To us. The new order.’
Michael grinned. ‘I’ll drink to that.’
He was tired out. He had never completely understood just how much Patrick Costello had actually done until now. He had assumed that Patrick had given him the lion’s share of the work. Now, though, he realised that the real money was what Patrick had concentrated on, and that was a full-time job in itself. Michael was having to work day and night to keep on top of everything and, even though he was given the same respect as Patrick Costello, he didn’t have a Michael of his own, so he was having to gradually farm the lesser work out. He had not been too bothered at first, knowing that he just had to find the right people for the right jobs, and that might take time.
Josephine being pregnant again had changed everything. He needed to get things in place as soon as possible so he could concentrate on her. She was a diamond, never complaining about his late nights, always ready to listen to him. He knew she would stand by him through anything life might throw at them. Now it was his turn, and he wanted to be there for her. He would do anything to see that this child came into the world. She deserved a baby so much, and her craving for a child of her own was painful to watch. He owed her this, and no matter what happened, he was going to be there beside her.
Chapter Fifty
‘Michael, will you go out, please? I am OK.’
Her husband was starting to get on Josephine’s nerves now. He was always asking how she was, staying in with her, offering everything from back rubs to cups of tea. It was wearing her out. All this attention was really irritating, and he watched her like a hawk.
‘I just want to help you, darling.’
Josephine sighed. ‘You want to help me, do you?’
Michael nodded. He looked like a lost Boy Scout. ‘Of course I do.’