Takedown Heather Atkinson (rosie project txt) 📖

He grabbed Warren by the throat with one hand while snatching the cue from him with the other and slammed him down onto the pool table, pinning him there by the neck. When his friends rushed to his aid, Caleb knocked one out with a single punch and Faith drew an extendable baton from inside her jacket, snapped it out to its full length and smacked it into the face of the third man, who dropped like a sack of potatoes. The fourth man hesitated, staring down at his fallen friends before deciding he didn’t want to end up the same way.

The customers all stopped talking to regard the scene before returning to their conversations. It was just another day in this pub.

“Don’t worry Lil,” Faith called to her. “This won’t go any further if Warren just tells us what we want to know.”

“All right,” she replied. “But you’re paying for any breakages Faith.”

“Of course.”

“You can use my back room.”

“Thank you,” she replied.

Vance dragged Warren up off the table, twisted his arms up his back and hauled him into the back room. Caleb and Faith followed, closing the door behind them and locking it.

“Now Warren,” said Faith as Vance shoved him into a chair. “Maybe we can talk like grown-ups now?”

“What do you want to know?” he sighed, massaging his aching neck.

Faith nodded at Vance to take over. He’d trained in interrogative techniques, so he was the most likely to get the information they needed.

“What was your relationship with Dillon?” said Vance, looming over him.

“Relationship?” he retorted. “I’m not a fucking poof.”

Vance rolled his eyes. “I mean how did you know him?”

“Oh, right. We met in here one night about five years ago and got on really well. We became really good mates.”

“Did you see a lot of each other? And I don’t mean that in a sexual way before you start getting uptight.”

“Yeah. We went to the footie together a lot and during away matches he’d come to my place or I’d go to his to watch it on the telly. We went drinking together too.”

“When did you last see him?”

“Three days ago,” he sighed. “He came to mine to watch the match.”

“How was he?”

“Fine. A bit quiet, unless he was watching the footie. He really threw himself into a match, shouting and yelling at the telly. He made it great fun, he would come out with some pretty funny shit but that day he just stared at the screen and didn’t say much. I got the feeling he wasn’t even watching it, like he was lost in his own head, you know. When I asked him what was wrong he said he wasn’t feeling well. He went home at about five o’clock that afternoon and I never saw him again. Poor bastard,” he said a little sadly.

“What about the days before he died? What was he doing? Who was he with?”

“I don’t know. He became hard to get hold of and didn’t want to come out for a pint anymore.”

“So he had a lot on his mind?”

“Yeah.”

“Any idea what?”

“No but he was worried about something. Now I think it’s because he knew someone was after him.”

“Mickey Gunning?”

“No,” snorted Warren. “The police asked me that but whoever frightened him was scarier than Mickey.”

“Like who?”

“No idea.” His eyes widened. “It was you lot, wasn’t it? You killed him.”

“Us?” said Vance with feigned innocence. “The losers who are up their own arses?”

“Yeah, you,” he breathed.

“So you think we killed Dillon then came here to ask you who you think did it?”

Vance’s logic slowly permeated Warren’s not very quick brain. “Maybe not.”

“Exactly. This wasn’t down to us.”

“I’ve no idea who killed him. If I did they’d be fucking dead by now but Dillon wasn’t easy to scare and he was afraid, I’m sure of it.”

“And you’ve no idea of who? He didn’t hint at anything?”

“Nope.”

“Can you think of anyone who might know?”

He shook his head. “No one has a bloody clue. His murder’s been the main topic of conversation and everyone’s baffled.”

“Could it be someone from out of town?” said Caleb.

“Possibly. That would explain why no one has any idea who did it. Unless there was some random loony in the park and Dillon was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Why was he in the park in the first place?” said Vance.

“No idea. Dillon wasn’t a park kind of guy. Nightclubs, boozers, bookies, they were more his scene.”

“So someone definitely lured him there to kill him,” said Faith. “But why?”

“What did Dillon say about working for us?” Vance asked Warren.

His eyes flicked around the room in panic. “Not much.”

“Judging by your reaction he said a lot. Just give it to us straight, we’re grown-ups, we can take it. We won’t blame you for what he said.”

“All right, as long as you remember this is Dillon, not me.”

All three of them nodded.

“He said you didn’t deserve the money and power you had. So many people in this town have worked in the game for years and were much more experienced. He thought the Maguires had made a mistake handing it all over to your family. It caused a lot of resentment.”

“Did he think he was more worthy than us?” said Faith.

“Yeah. Actually, he thought he was more worthy than anyone else in Blackpool.”

“So he was bitter?” said Vance.

“That’s an understatement.”

“Did he come into any extra money?”

“Not that I saw. He was very private about his finances. If he had he wouldn’t have told anyone, he’d be too afraid of someone asking him for a loan.”

“Is there anything else you can think of that could help us find who did