“All right, all right,” Dillon said.
They had been driving furiously for a short time. Roxy glanced at him and eased the pressure on the pedal.
“Stop her,” Dillon snarled. “Where in hell do you think you’re rushin’ to?”
Roxy drew to the side of the road. We gotta get outta town,” he said nervously.
“Wait a minute… wait a minute.” Dillon shifted the Thompson off his knees on to the floorboards. “Now what is all this? Come on, spill it…. What is this riot?”
Roxy started to splutter, saw the hard gleam in Dillon’s eyes and stopped. Then he took hold of himself and said, “Vessi ratted. You shook his nerve rubbin’ Hurst. Somehow he didn’t see you bein’ boss long, so he runs to Ernie. McGowan didn’t like the set-up, but he came along and blew it to me. I went after Vessi an’ got him to talk. He said Ernie wasn’t wasting time. He tipped the cops that you had knocked Hurst off, and then sent his boys after you.”
Dillon said, “Vessi?” There was a lot of hate in his voice.
“I took care of Vessi.” Roxy sounded satisfied. “He won’t worry about his dinner any more.”
Myra said from the back, “Get goin’… that smashed wind-screen’ll make the bulls curious.”
“Shut your trap!” Dillon said, without looking round; then to Roxy, “You know where Ernie hangs out?”