Kelly. The alias Ryan had to choose for himself. “Something you’d turn your head to,” Leo advised. “Something familiar. That’s the first test they do to check you’re not coppers. Call your name in a bar, see if your head swivels.” “I’d always answer to my brother’s name,” Ryan had said in a low voice, thinking of the night, the night his brother got in too deep, owed so much money, so many favors. The night his brother tied the noose. They’d found him too late, by about half an hour, the coroner later said. He’d done it in the loft. He hadn’t wanted to be found.
