some might, like you, see an opportunity.’
‘I think there’d be enough room for everybody.’
‘Now …’ Panzer wags his finger, ‘that is a dangerous concept. Sooner or later, one man always gets greedy and convinces himself he doesn’t need competition and then … well, then the guns usually come out and bodies are found lying face down in the streets.’
‘Surely that possibility could apply to any business.’
‘That’s not strictly correct, but in our marketplace, in the underworld, it’s always a possibility.’ Panzer puts his hand on Finbarr’s shoulder. ‘Son, you’ll be taking over from me soon and you should be looking for legitimate business opportunities … the property market, for example; it’s exploding at the minute.’
‘Sure,’ Finbarr says.
Panzer cannot help but frown at his son’s apparent disinterest.
Finbarr clears his throat. ‘Something has been puzzling me, Dad.’
‘Oh dear,’ Panzer says in a resigned tone. ‘What is it?’
‘Why did you do this drugs deal with Benzo? I thought you hated the drug business.’
Panzer chooses his words carefully. ‘I do, but I’m going to be laying out a lot of money for that bank job I told you about. You know … the one with Ructions.’
‘Okay.’
‘This way I take the risk out of the equation. It’s an insurance policy against a potential loss. A one-off.’
‘I see.’
‘I’ve told you before, but I’m going to say it again – don’t ever let him know I took you into my confidence on that job. He doesn’t like you.’
‘He’s a jealous asshole. He can’t abide me getting the farm and business and him not.’
Serge, Panzer and Ructions are seated in the hotel restaurant. A waiter brings a bottle of dessert wine and presents the label to Serge. ‘The 1996 Château d’Yquem Sauternes Premier Cru Supérieur, monsieur,’ the waiter says.
Serge nods and sniffs the cork. ‘An exceptional bouquet,’ he says.
The waiter pours the wine and leaves the table.
‘The pork was excellent, non?’ Serge says.
‘Very nice,’ Ructions says.
Serge lifts his glass and swirls the wine. ‘If I may say so, gentlemen, this is an ambitious project.’
‘It’ll work, Serge. I know it will,’ Ructions says.
Serge’s silence testifies to his reservations. ‘And you, Johnny … are you confident?’
Panzer pauses before answering. ‘I’m optimistic, put it like that.’
‘In my view,’ Serge says, ‘optimism is overrated.’
‘Perhaps, but I’ve gone through this with Ructions and I can’t find fault in it. We’ll need a bit of luck, but then you always need the rub of the green, don’t you? It’s more than worth the risk.’
‘I hope so,’ Serge says.
‘Ructions has never let me down yet,’ Panzer says.
Serge sips his wine. ‘I know that, but this thing is bordering on extraterrestrial. Nothing like it has been undertaken before.’
‘We know that,’ Panzer says.
‘You’ll not be able to launder the money in Ireland or Britain.’
‘That’s why we’re paying for this rather expensive dinner, monsieur,’ Ructions says glibly.
Serge bows his head gracefully and looks at Ructions in a manner that is decidedly puzzled. ‘Merci beaucoup.’ He exchanges glances with Panzer, then turns his attention back to Ructions. ‘Would it be unkind of me to play the devil’s advocate?’
‘I expected nothing less.’
‘Let us make a giant leap of faith and assume that all goes according to plan and the merchandise is in your possession.’
‘Okay,’ Ructions says.
‘And let us assume you can resist the attention of the authorities—’
‘Yes?’
‘You still have the problem of transferring the merchandise out of the country. I should think air travel, given its traceability, would be out of the question. Do you agree?’
‘Yes.’
‘How, then, do you intend to move the merchandise?’
Ructions makes a wave motion with his hand.
‘Yes,’ Serge says. ‘That makes sense. The police – I do not think it will be long before they find out who did this.’
‘Possibly,’ Ructions says, ‘but it doesn’t necessarily follow.’
‘The police would be aware that few, shall we say, parties, are capable of achieving a positive result in this matter. They will go through a process of elimination and arrive at the right conclusions, don’t you think?’
‘The actual enterprise has been subdivided amongst different groups of people who don’t know one another,’ Panzer says.
‘That’s as may be, but the central figures – the planners – they swim in a very small pool.’
‘The paramilitaries will be blamed for it,’ Ructions says.
‘Undoubtedly – at the start.’ Serge drinks some wine and looks past Panzer in concentration. ‘Is it not the case that the police and intelligence services have infiltrated the paramilitaries?’
‘To a point,’ Ructions says, ‘but not completely. There are paramilitaries who don’t work for the cops or for MI5.’
Serge stares at the wine bottle. ‘That doesn’t help, does it? All that tells me is that the paramilitaries who aren’t working for the police don’t know their friends from their enemies. Hmm … Can I ask who your people are, or is that—’
‘No, it’s a fair question,’ Panzer answers. ‘Actually, they’re ex-IRA. Retired revolutionaries. In business for themselves now. Very security conscious. Very forensically aware. We’ve used them before and there’s been no comeback.’
‘Only two of them know that we …’ Ructions points to Panzer and himself, ‘are behind it, and they don’t know of one another’s involvement.’
‘And it’s in their own interests to keep their heads down,’ Panzer adds.
Serge seems to be counting
