Veronica Guerin Page #4

Now, I trained as an accountant, right?

If I could have a look at these files,|then I could go after those other wankers.

Put some pressure on them.

Come on.

Go on.

Look, I've got some more packing to do.|I'll be back in an hour or so.

Looking forward to reading|someone's column on Sunday.

''For the Coach every day is lotto day.''

''What others might earn in a decade,|he can conjure up in an afternoon.''

''His Swiss scam was such a stroke,|a child of his remarkable ingenuity.''

''The fruits of a complex fraud...''

- The Coach, boss.|- What?

Never knew you were|such a horse lover, John.

- What took you so long?|- The traffic.

Nothing to do with that woman|who writes for the Sunday Indo?

- Did the boys say something?|- That's not the question, Johnny.

The question is:
|what did you say to that woman?

Nothing important.

She fancies me, so I humour her.

You know why I'm successful, Johnny?|I lead a quiet life.

Nobody knows what I'm doing,|and that's very good for business.

When you talk to that b*tch and when she|writes about you, you feel like a movie star.

Don't think she doesn't know|how to use that, because she does.

You're not as smart as you think you are.|That makes you a liability.

Remember this. If that b*tch|ever mentions my name, you pay.

You like playing the gangster, do you?

Do you? It makes you feel like a big man.|Does it make you feel like a big man?

How does it feel now?|Heap of shite! You heap of shite!

- John, please...|- You bunch of eejits.

Who's the f***ing genius|messing with the gun around my horses?

You don't insult me boys, Gerry.|You leave that to me.

Unless you want|some of the same yourself.

Word of advice.|Keep your f***ing mouth shut.

I called you here|cos we've got a debt to settle.

What debt?

Your man Martin Cahill thinks|over half a million quid is owed him.

I got him to loan us that money to start up|the operation. If he wants it back...

As far as I'm concerned|that money keeps moving forward.

He lent you the money when you were just|out of prison. Now he's down on his luck.

He can't shift the paintings|from the last job. They're too hot.

- Why don't you just pay him?|- No, no. You don't get it.

When a scumbag like Cahill is down|on his luck, you kick him in the bollocks.

Wouldn't try that with Martin Cahill.

Whose side are you on, Coach?

I just think we should make payment.

Don't you worry about it.|We're gonna make payment.

Jesus!

Are you people f***ing insane?

For a few hundred grand,|you've murdered all of us.

I don't like your tone, Coach.

Maybe the Gards|don't know what you did

but if the rest of the Cahill mob find out,

they'll kill yous|and everyone you did business with.

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