Takedown by Heather Atkinson (latest books to read txt) 📕

“Oh, I am glad. He’s got a chance of a real future with them, thankfully because he couldn’t earn the money he gets paid any other way. I love my son dearly but Stephen Hawking he is not.”

“So he’s still enjoying his work?”

“Yes, he loves it. He says it’s never dull and keeps him on his toes. In fact, he’s been given some extra responsibility.”

“He has?”

“Faith didn’t mention it?”

“No but my daughter is rather a closed book.”

“Yes, I suppose she has to be.”

Despite what their children thought, all their mothers knew exactly what business they were involved in but, as it had made all their lives much more comfortable, they weren’t complaining. They’d surprised themselves with that attitude but not worrying about how they were going to put food on the table or pay the mortgage was a huge relief after years of struggle.

Sally-Ann glanced around before continuing. “Well, he’s been selected as part of a special team.”

“Special team?”

“Patrick told me not to say anything but I suppose it would be all right telling you seeing how he works for your children. He’s been selected to guard the famous vault.”

“The vault?” she said, genuinely puzzled.

“Oh, I see what you mean,” winked Sally-Ann, tapping the side of her nose. “You don’t want to say it out loud. I completely understand. But he’s working in it now.”

“Okay,” said Rose slowly. She had no idea what the vault was but, judging by its name, it was used to store something valuable. Could it be that what had been stolen from her children had been kept inside it? She forced the approving smile Sally-Ann was obviously expecting. “That’s wonderful dear.”

“Isn’t it. He’s being paid much more money, he’s been splashing it about like there’s no tomorrow. He even bought me a beautiful new watch,” she said, holding out her arm to show Rose.

“It’s lovely. He must have good taste.”

“Oh, he does, in some things anyway. Not women. You should see some of the little tarts he’s brought home. One wore a skirt so short it looked like a belt and she had tattoos on her thighs.”

“Shocking,” said Rose, finding it amusing that Sally-Ann found tattoos disgraceful but didn’t mind that her son was dealing drugs. It was just another of the strange disconnects she’d observed in people - outraged by something rather mild while not minding the more serious stuff. It seemed to be a growing symptom of modern society. She was rather glad she was in the twilight of her life. She wouldn’t want to be young in this backwards world.

“I was appalled I can tell you,” added Sally-Ann.

“Is he still with the girl?”

“No. She was just one in a long line.”

“He’s only young, he’ll settle down eventually.”

“None of your children have found anyone have they, except Abi?”

“She and Michael have just got engaged,” said Rose proudly. “They’re planning a spring wedding.”

“Lovely. Give them my congratulations.”

“I will but sadly none of my other children have found a partner. It’s been difficult for Vance being locked up in prison for something he didn’t do. I wish Faith would settle down but she seems to be too fond of her independence.”

“I can’t blame her for that. It’s the modern way. In our day it was expected you would marry but women these days have so many other options.” Sally-Ann’s wistful sigh indicated she wished she’d had other options.

“I suppose it is.”

“And she has so much on her hands with her businesses to run. She mustn’t have a moment to herself.”

“It’s only one nightclub and one restaurant,” retorted Rose a little sniffily. “But I take your point.”

Rose was handed her cup of tea and made her way back to her friends. It seemed that was all the information she was going to get from Sally-Ann and she didn’t know if it was important or not but she would pass it on to her children. Hopefully it would help them.

CHAPTER 8

Matthew dragged his hands down his face as Snappy McMichaels smirked at him. Sometimes he found it very hard keeping his hands off prisoners. He’d love nothing more than to punch Snappy right in his smug ferret face but that wouldn’t help anyone, especially not himself. He’d quizzed Snappy for two hours and had got precisely nowhere.

“Interview suspended,” he said before getting to his feet and stomping out, leaving Snappy to smirk, his equally smug solicitor sat beside him.

“How’s it going Sir?” said Warner, who was waiting outside the door.

“Not good,” sighed Matthew. “I haven’t managed to get anything coherent out of him. If I was after a load of drivel about his bad back and the weather I’d be laughing.”

“Oh dear. Has he tried to bite you again?”

“No. That’s something I suppose and how can he afford that slimy git of a solicitor? He charges a fortune and Snappy’s on benefits. It always boggles my mind that these creeps, who are supposed to be skint, can afford the best.”

“He must have some income he hasn’t declared Sir.”

“You think?” he barked. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to shout. It’s been a crappy day.”

“Snappy does have a reputation for letting rip when his temper’s up. He runs his mouth off and he can’t stop himself.”

“What are you saying?”

“I heard that he caught his girlfriend in bed with – get this – his own father.”

“What?”

“Mental, isn’t it?” he grinned.

“What did he do to them?”

“Nothing because his dad’s even more of a headcase than he is. You could casually drop it into the conversation. It’ll send him over the edge.”

“Good idea. Want to sit in and watch the fun?”

“Yes please.”

“Come on,” he said, pushing open the door of the interview room.

Snappy was