shot. We all thought you’d been shot. Fuck, Willy Nolan even held a wake.’
‘You had a body?’ Liam was a little surprised at that.
‘No, the prison wouldn’t release it so we… Oh fuck.’
Liam watched as the cogs turned in the man’s brain. If he wasn’t dead and the prison had been complicit in the subterfuge it could mean only one thing. ‘That’s right, got it now haven’t you Mad Dog?’
‘Who sent you?’ the question was an angry whisper.
‘That really doesn’t matter. I know everything. I know you’re one of the bastards who signed the order to have my Mammy killed and I’m here for her.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about son,’ Larry tried in placatory manner.
‘Don’t call me son, you patronising bastard,’ Liam spat at him. ‘And don’t think you can deny it. I talked to Jonny. He told me everything.’
He saw a change in O’Brien’s expression then at the mention of the man who had actually carried out the hit. ‘Collateral damage,’ came the reply, the tone now defiant and arrogant. ‘Nothing to be done.’
Liam felt the rage build inside him, but he didn’t have time for that. He pocketed the gun and slowly pulled out The Killer a second time. He crouched down to the man, who struggled against his bonds but had no chance of escape, and moved the knife slowly in front of his face, the word matador clearly visible, then took the blade to within an inch of his eye. He was rewarded by a tremor of the man’s cheeks. Anyone faced by the vicious blade experienced a fear far deeper than any gun could produce. It was that deep, primal, visceral fear, instilled in man throughout the ages. That basic fear of the wild, savage, untameable, sharp toothed beast. That fear that couldn’t be denied and would eventually turn to terror. The trouble was that Liam didn’t really have time for eventually just now and this was a particularly hard bastard he had in front of him. You didn’t earn a moniker like Mad Dog for nothing and he narrowed his eyes as he considered how best to make this man talk - and quickly.
‘I had to sign it,’ Larry suddenly blurted out.
Liam froze for a second in surprise, but then quickly pressed his advantage. ‘Go on.’
‘I never understood it, Butch, honest I didn’t,’ Larry went on, his voice cracking more with every word. ‘I never knew why you were so special. Jesus, I had young lads banging on my door wanting to join up. We turned away more than we took. But you, they really wanted you.’
‘Why me? What was so fuckin ’ special about me that you had to kill me Mam?’ Liam hissed through clenched teeth. He wanted to scream his anger at this man, but he couldn’t afford the noise.
‘I told you, Butch, I don’t know. I swear I don’t know. It was Peter. He issued the order. I had to sign it. I had no choice.’
Liam figured that much was probably true. ‘So, where is he? Where is Peter Moore?’
‘He’s not here.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘ I can’t Butch , you know I can’t . It’s more than my life’s worth.’
‘And how much is that exactly?’ Liam spat into the face in front of him. ‘You know, I do believe that Moore issued the order. That doesn’t surprise me in the least, but you had no choice you say? Everyone’s got a choice, man. Everyone. But you didn’t give me Mam a choice, did you? That order had her beaten before she died, you sadistic bastard. You ordered her kneecapped and her ankles broken, didn’t you? You signed that fuckin ’ order. You knew what would happen.’
O’Brien said nothing. From the wild look in his eyes his fear had finally turned to terror and he was paralysed by it. Liam secured the gag tightly again. ‘Like this, was it?’ he growled as he crouched and brought the heavy butt of his knife down on the man’s ankle, the unmistakeable sound of breaking bones quickly accompanied by a low groan from the man’s throat. ‘Or like this?’ he suggested as he
‘You had a body?’ Liam was a little surprised at that.
‘No, the prison wouldn’t release it so we… Oh fuck.’
Liam watched as the cogs turned in the man’s brain. If he wasn’t dead and the prison had been complicit in the subterfuge it could mean only one thing. ‘That’s right, got it now haven’t you Mad Dog?’
‘Who sent you?’ the question was an angry whisper.
‘That really doesn’t matter. I know everything. I know you’re one of the bastards who signed the order to have my Mammy killed and I’m here for her.’
‘I have no idea what you’re talking about son,’ Larry tried in placatory manner.
‘Don’t call me son, you patronising bastard,’ Liam spat at him. ‘And don’t think you can deny it. I talked to Jonny. He told me everything.’
He saw a change in O’Brien’s expression then at the mention of the man who had actually carried out the hit. ‘Collateral damage,’ came the reply, the tone now defiant and arrogant. ‘Nothing to be done.’
Liam felt the rage build inside him, but he didn’t have time for that. He pocketed the gun and slowly pulled out The Killer a second time. He crouched down to the man, who struggled against his bonds but had no chance of escape, and moved the knife slowly in front of his face, the word matador clearly visible, then took the blade to within an inch of his eye. He was rewarded by a tremor of the man’s cheeks. Anyone faced by the vicious blade experienced a fear far deeper than any gun could produce. It was that deep, primal, visceral fear, instilled in man throughout the ages. That basic fear of the wild, savage, untameable, sharp toothed beast. That fear that couldn’t be denied and would eventually turn to terror. The trouble was that Liam didn’t really have time for eventually just now and this was a particularly hard bastard he had in front of him. You didn’t earn a moniker like Mad Dog for nothing and he narrowed his eyes as he considered how best to make this man talk - and quickly.
‘I had to sign it,’ Larry suddenly blurted out.
Liam froze for a second in surprise, but then quickly pressed his advantage. ‘Go on.’
‘I never understood it, Butch, honest I didn’t,’ Larry went on, his voice cracking more with every word. ‘I never knew why you were so special. Jesus, I had young lads banging on my door wanting to join up. We turned away more than we took. But you, they really wanted you.’
‘Why me? What was so fuckin ’ special about me that you had to kill me Mam?’ Liam hissed through clenched teeth. He wanted to scream his anger at this man, but he couldn’t afford the noise.
‘I told you, Butch, I don’t know. I swear I don’t know. It was Peter. He issued the order. I had to sign it. I had no choice.’
Liam figured that much was probably true. ‘So, where is he? Where is Peter Moore?’
‘He’s not here.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘ I can’t Butch , you know I can’t . It’s more than my life’s worth.’
‘And how much is that exactly?’ Liam spat into the face in front of him. ‘You know, I do believe that Moore issued the order. That doesn’t surprise me in the least, but you had no choice you say? Everyone’s got a choice, man. Everyone. But you didn’t give me Mam a choice, did you? That order had her beaten before she died, you sadistic bastard. You ordered her kneecapped and her ankles broken, didn’t you? You signed that fuckin ’ order. You knew what would happen.’
O’Brien said nothing. From the wild look in his eyes his fear had finally turned to terror and he was paralysed by it. Liam secured the gag tightly again. ‘Like this, was it?’ he growled as he crouched and brought the heavy butt of his knife down on the man’s ankle, the unmistakeable sound of breaking bones quickly accompanied by a low groan from the man’s throat. ‘Or like this?’ he suggested as he
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