Takedown

by Heather Atkinson

  “Even though I helped you out with that?”

  “Yes. Police have become the enemy even more since then. I don’t want to think that about you but I can’t help it.”

  “Oh nice,” he huffed. “So I’m the enemy now.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Yes you did. I’m wasting my time here.”

  “No, don’t,” she said, putting her hand on his arm when he moved to walk away. “I know you’re nothing like Marlow and his corrupt cops but it’s taking me some time to deal with what happened.”

  His expression softened. “I thought so and I can certainly understand that but I am not your enemy.”

  “I know that,” she said with a gentle smile. “All right Matthew, I did hear something else that might help you - Dillon did some work with Mickey Gunning.”

  “The armed robber and burglar?”

  She nodded. “I was going to see what I could find out about it before telling you but I want to prove to you that we’re friends.”

  “I appreciate the tip and that is a good lead. I suspect Gunning’s murdered before but I’ve never been able to prove it.”

  “If you do speak to him be careful, won’t you? He’s known to carry Stanley knives.”

  “Don’t tell me you care?” he said playfully.

  “Actually, I do. I don’t want you to get hurt,” she said, patting his arm.

  His smile was tender. “I appreciate that Faith and I don’t want you to get hurt either, which is why we must cooperate with each other more.”

  She released his arm when she realised she’d been holding onto him for a little too long and nodded. “I’ll try to be more open in the future. It’s just hard going against what I’ve had hammered into me since I was a small child.”

  “How did you manage when Vance was a police officer?”

  “That was different, I think because we grew up together. It didn’t affect our relationship.”

  “So, if you can trust him you can trust me. I think I’ve proved where my loyalties lie.”

  “Yes, you have.”

  They smiled at each other.

  “Right,” he said after a beat of silence. “I’d better get back to work.”

  “You won’t speak to Gunning alone, will you?”

  “No, I’m not thick. I’ll take a team with me.”

  “Make sure you wear a stab vest.”

  “I will. Believe it or not Faith, I do know what I’m doing,” he said with a wry smile.

  “Sorry, I know but Gunning’s such a psycho.”

  “It’s not the first time I’ll have dealt with a psycho and it certainly won’t be the last.”

  “Will you let me know what you find out from Gunning?”

  “That all depends on what I find out,” he said rather enigmatically. “See you around Faith.”

  “Bye Matthew.”

  She had to smile when he turned around and almost walked straight into a waxwork of Ken Barlow.

  “Sorry,” he said before he realised it was a mannequin.

  He left, head down, blushing, Faith watching him go with a grin.

  Matthew strode up to the front door of the small red brick terraced house not far from the prom and banged on it. The sound of groaning drum and bass music rumbled inside, so he hammered louder.

  “Police, open up,” he yelled.

  The music continued to drone on and no one came to answer the door. He looked over his shoulder at the two officers he’d brought with him and nodded.

  They both stepped forward and kicked the door in and the three of them poured inside, Matthew leading the way.

  “Mr Gunning are you here?” he called. “We’re police officers.”

  He entered cautiously, pausing to peer around the door jamb into the living room, the floor of which was bare. The only furniture was a stained beige two-seater couch, a huge flat screen television hanging from the wall, a set of shelves stuffed with DVD’s and the stereo still blaring its noise from the floor in the corner of the room.

  As he stepped into the room there was a grunt to his right and he leapt backwards, avoiding being stabbed in the chest with a Stanley knife. Matthew grabbed his attacker’s wrist and wrenched it, so the blade was pointing away from him. Keeping hold of his attacker’s arm he dragged him to the floor, his men pinning him there and tearing the Stanley knife from his grip.

  “Assaulting a police officer Mickey,” said Matthew as his struggling prisoner was cuffed. “Not a good start. We only wanted to ask you a few questions.”

  “I didn’t do it,” he yelled.

  “Do what?”

  “Kill Dillon. I know that’s why you’re here.”

  “Looks like he was going to do a flit Sir,” said one of Matthew’s officers, indicating the packed suitcase behind the front door.

  “Interesting,” said Matthew. He looked back at Mickey. “Off on holiday, were you?”

  “I’m not saying a word until I’ve spoken to my solicitor.”

  “I was afraid you’d say that,” he sighed.

  CHAPTER 4

  The panicked frenzy that had been in Mickey’s eyes back at his house had been replaced with an almost intolerable smugness once his solicitor had arrived, who was so slimy Matthew was amazed he didn’t leave a trail on the floor behind him.

  “Detective Inspector Young,” said the solicitor in an incredibly supercilious tone. “I fail to understand why you went to such brutal lengths to arrest my client when you simply wanted to have a few words with him.”

  “If you’ve forgotten,” he retorted. “Your client attempted to stab me with a Stanley knife. If it wasn’t for my training, I’d now be in hospital with an open chest wound.”

  “Were you wearing a stab vest?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then I doubt you would have been seriously injured.”

  “So you’re saying it’s all right for people to go around stabbing police officers as long as they’re wearing Kevlar?”

  “No but you were never in any real danger.”

  “That’s the most ridiculous argument I’ve ever heard. Did you actually pass the Bar, Mr Mortimer?”

  “With honours,” he sniffed. “And my client lashed out because he was scared. You kicked in his front door and charged into his home without identifying yourselves.”

  “Actually, we declared we were police officers outside the house after knocking repeatedly. As someone was obviously in the house but no one was answering, we kicked in the door because we were concerned for Mr Gunning’s welfare, which was reasonable as a known associate of his had just been found murdered and we received information that your client could be connected. We also declared that we were police officers on entering the premises. We did everything by the book. If you’ve any concerns you’re welcome to review the bodycam footage.”

  Mortimer knew he wasn’t going to get anywhere with that line of attack, Young was far too confident. “I will,” he sniffed.

  “Good. Now we’ve got that sorted can we start the interview?”

  “My client has nothing to say.”

  “Your client isn’t helping himself by saying nothing and he’s still looking at a charge of assaulting a police officer. As the entire incident was caught on my body cam he’s not wriggling out of it. However, I may be convinced to reduce his charge to a lesser one if he cooperates and tells us what he knows about Dillon Enfield.”

  Mortimer whispered in Mickey’s ear. When he’d finished, Mickey looked at him questioningly. The solicitor responded with another nod and Mickey sighed.

  “All right Young,” said Mickey, turning to face him. “Dillon did do a few odd jobs for me.”

  “Odd jobs?” he replied. “Fixing leaky taps? Washing the windows?”

  “No,” he retorted. “He gave me a hand when I had problems.”

  “What sort of problems?”

  “If anyone gave me any trouble,” he said reluctantly.

  “What sort of trouble?”

/>   “You know, trouble. Do I have to spell it out?”

  “I’m afraid you do.”

  “If anyone was mean to me…why are you laughing?” he scowled when Young sniggered.

  “Do excuse me Mickey, that wasn’t a laugh. I was clearing my throat.”

  Mickey’s look was withering.

  “It’s just that I was going through your file earlier,” continued Matthew, swiping at the iPad on the table before him. “And you have quite a colourful history – breaking and entering, burglary, common assault, grievous bodily harm. So I find it a little difficult to believe that you need help dealing with someone who is being mean to you. However, three months ago you were arrested while attempting to break into a house on Division Lane. You had an accomplice but they fled, leaving you to face the music alone. Your accomplice’s description matched Dillon Enfield.”

  “No one was with me that night,” retorted Mickey. “The witness must have been seeing double.”

  “Actually there wasn’t a witness. The incident was caught on camera.”

  Matthew swiped at the iPad again and turned it to face him. On the screen was footage taken outside the front of a large detached house. Two figures sped down the drive away from the house, chased by a large Doberman. The more agile of the two figures managed to scale the wall and vanish from view while the puffing image of Mickey was dragged to the ground by the Doberman seizing his foot.

  “I’m sorry Mickey,” said Young, stopping the footage. “Did that bring back unpleasant memories?” He threw his sergeant a warning look, who was desperately trying not to laugh.

  “Bastard dog,” muttered Mickey. “The sod nearly bit my heel right off.”

  “Our techs enlarged and cleaned up the footage of your accomplice,” said Young, swiping at the screen. “As you can see, your accomplice very closely resembles Dillon Enfield.”

  “Maybe a bit but it wasn’t him.”

  “What happened Mickey? Did you get angry that he left you to face the music? Your trial starts in two weeks. Did you want to silence him or was it just about plain, old fashioned revenge?”

  “Look, I never went near the git,” he exclaimed. “The prick was a jinx. Every job he went on something went wrong – the car broke down, I got savaged by a dog or – and you’re going to think I’m making this up but it’s the God’s honest truth – we were carrying a washing machine out of a house together and he dropped it on my foot. Not the one the dog bit, the other one. He broke the bloody machine too. It fell on its side and pissed water out all over the pavement.”

  Young glared at his sergeant when he lost his battle not to snigger.

  “So you see,” continued Mickey. “Dillon was a proper Jonah. I’m not surprised he ended up getting stabbed. If you ask me no one did it to him. It was probably some weird accident that he did to himself. If someone did try to kill him they would have been horrifically injured in the process.”

  Young’s instinct told him Mickey was being truthful, to his surprise. He thought Mickey might know more about Dillon’s murder than he was letting on but he didn’t think he was responsible.

  “If you ask me,” went on Mickey. “The world’s a safer place without him. I should know, I’ve got the scars to prove it.”

  “My client has said everything he’s going to say,” interjected Mortimer.

  But Mickey continued regardless. “If anyone could accidentally detonate a nuclear device or start World War Three, it was that bastard.”

  “Where were you yesterday evening Mickey?” said Young, wanting to get that question in while he was in a talkative mood.

  “The Red Lion with four of my friends.”

  Young thought how Faith and her siblings were regulars at that pub. She’d even worked there before she’d left Blackpool for Scotland. Everything seemed to come back to the Chambers family. “I’ll need the names and addresses of these friends.”

  “Not a problem,” he said smugly.

  “Did anyone else see you there other than your friends?”

  “Yes, the landlady, Lil. She got pissed off because we got a bit rowdy. She had to have a quiet word.”

  “So she’ll remember you?”

  “Course she will. I’m unforgettable to the birds I am.”

  “Yeah, right,” said Young. He got to his feet. “Thank you for your cooperation Mr Gunning.”

  “Is my client free to go?” said Mortimer.

  “I’m afraid not. Detective Sergeant Warner here wishes to discuss a burglary at Albion Avenue,” he said, nodding to the officer sat beside him. “At that robbery, a washing machine was found tipped on its side, spewing water everywhere.”

  Mickey’s eyes widened when he realised what he’d said while Mortimer shook his head.

  “For Christ’s sake,” sighed Mickey, dragging his hands through his hair.

  Young couldn’t help but smile as he left the room, leaving Mickey to one of DS Warner’s intense interrogations. He thought Mickey was as big of a jinx as Dillon.

  “Cheer up,” Vance told Faith as they got out of his car.

  She sighed and looked at Rose’s house. “Another family dinner. Great.”

  “You can’t fool me. I know you love it when we’re all together.”

  “I do, except for one person. It’s getting harder and harder for me to be around Rose.”

  “I understand but it won’t always be like this.”

  “I hope not. I’m afraid that one day I’ll let something slip.”

  “No you won’t, you’re too smart. I’ll drive home, so you can have a drink and relax a bit.”

  “Is it a good idea me having a drink? I might get pissed and forget myself.”

  “You’ll be fine. We’ll have a nice meal with the family, a few laughs. It’s just what we need.”

  “I wished she’d move to a bigger house. Now Michael’s practically part of the family it’s really awkward with eight of us jammed around the tiny kitchen table.”

  “Stop being grumpy and come on,” he said, wishing he could sling his arm around her shoulders or take her hand but even small comforts like that were denied them.

  Together they walked inside the house to find they were the last to arrive, the others ranged around the sofas.

  “About time,” said Abi, who was curled up on the couch with Michael, Monty on her lap. “Dinner’s nearly ready and we’re all starving.”

  “Sorry,” said Faith. “My fault, I lost track of time. Vance had to bang on my door to remind me.” She forced herself not to glance his way as she spoke. They were late because he’d been banging something completely different.

  Rose walked into the room, as usual having to force a smile at the sight of her two oldest children. “Here at last,” she said. “Just in time too, I was about to dish up.” She looked at them, expecting an apology for their tardiness but their stony expressions said none would be forthcoming.

  “Shall I help you dish up Mum?” said Abi. Since she’d been with Michael she’d become a lot more cooperative and helpful and had greater control over her volcanic temper.

  “Thank you dear, that’s very kind,” said Rose before returning to the kitchen.

  Abi put Monty down on the floor, got up and went into the kitchen. Vance scooped him up as he charged at him, preventing him from attaching himself to his leg, as he’d intended.

  “Too slow fella,” he smiled, tickling him behind the ears, Monty going limp in his arms with ecstasy.

  The room went silent. Sensing the siblings wanted to talk business, Michael got to his feet. “I’ll give them a hand,” he said before heading into the kitchen.

  “Thanks,” Faith told him with a smile.

  None of them had liked Michael at first as he’d wheedled his way into their lives with subterfuge but he’d helped get Vance out of prison and he not only made Abi happy but had calmed her down, so they’d now welcomed him with open arms.

  “How did your meeting with Young go?” Caleb asked Faith.

  �
��Fine,” she replied. “He’s going to speak to Mickey Gunning.”

  “He already has. Mickey was arrested two hours ago.”

  “Do we know what Mickey’s said yet?”

  “No. My contact will let me know as soon as he finds out.”

  “Is your contact in Young’s unit?” said Faith.

  Caleb smiled and nodded.

  “Nice one.” She was so proud of her little brother.

  “Dinner’s ready,” called Rose.

  “Great,” said Kevin, leaping up. “I’m starving.”

  The eight of them squashed around the table, Faith throwing Vance a warning glance when she felt his hand on her thigh under the table. He did like to live dangerously.

  “Who wants wine?” said Rose, holding up a bottle of pinot.

  “Wine?” frowned Jason. “Haven’t you got any lager?”

  “Of course I do dear,” she smiled, placing a can beside his plate.

  “That’s better,” he grinned.

  “Have you got any prosecco?” said Kevin.

  Jason sniggered. “Prosecco? Who are you, Kim Kardashian?”

  “Why, does she drink it?”

  His grin fell. “No idea.”

  “Then shut it you dick.”

  “Language at the table Kevin.”

  “Sorry Mum.”

  “That’s all right sweetheart.”

  “I’ll have some wine,” said Faith.

  “Me too,” said Vance.

  Once everyone had their drinks and Rose had taken her seat, Abi and Michael looked at each other and nodded.

  “If I could have everyone’s attention please,” said the latter.

  “We’re all packed together like sardines,” commented Jason. “So we’ve no choice.”

  He got to his feet. “I’d like to make an announcement.”

  Kevin picked up his knife and pointed at him with it. “If you’ve knocked up Abi I’ll cut off your…”

  “I am not pregnant,” exclaimed Abi. “Shut up and let him speak.”

  “I’d like to announce,” continued Michael. “That I asked Abi to be my wife and she accepted.”

  There was a moment of shocked silence before they all cheered and leapt up to hug the happy couple, which was awkward in the tiny kitchen.