Payback (51 page)
‘We believe that she was murdered, but as I have already said, we won’t know the exact details until a post-mortem is conducted. I am so sorry, I truly wish I could have been the bearer of better news.’
‘You must have some idea who killed her? We have every fucking right to know the details,’ Michael spat. Even though, as time had ticked on, Michael had tried to steel himself for this news, it had still knocked him for six.
‘We have made an arrest in connection with Molly’s disappearance, but that is all I can say at the moment. However, I assure you, the family will be first to know as soon as there are any more developments,’ Townsend replied.
When Vinny leapt up, roaring like a lion, and turned the table over, Townsend and Clarke jumped backwards. ‘I have every cunting right to know who killed my little princess, so tell me who you are fucking questioning?’ Vinny yelled.
Frightened his brother was going to do something stupid, like clump Townsend, Michael stood up and grabbed hold of him. ‘The police will catch whoever did this, bruv. And if they don’t, we fucking will. Make no mistake about that.’
Suddenly feeling nauseous, Vinny ran to the toilets. Before he could even reach the cubicle, he spewed his guts up.
Donald and Christopher Walker were sitting with serious expressions on their faces. Nancy was on the armchair opposite and a very disturbed and upset Daniel had just been put to bed by Mary.
Unfortunately for Nancy, when the police had left, Daniel had been woken by Joanna’s blood-curdling screams. He had padded downstairs in his Batman pyjamas, and Nancy had had no choice but to break the news to her son as gently as she could.
Daniel had not taken it well. He had flown into a tantrum and started headbutting the wall. Worried about his behaviour, Nancy had decided the best thing she could do was take him back to her parents’ house and reunite him with his brothers.
‘Nancy, I know perhaps you and I have not seen eye to eye over recent years, but you really have to listen to me now. Molly has not ended up dead by accident. The Butlers are hated, especially Vinny. Look at what has already happened to that family. Roy is dead; Lenny is dead, and now Molly. I know you love Michael, but surely you should put the safety of yourself and your children first? You will always be looking over your shoulder otherwise. I know what Daniel did at school. Do you really want your sons to end up dead or as gangsters?’
Having just settled Daniel down, Mary heard the last part of the conversation and rushed down the stairs to her daughter’s rescue. ‘Christopher, a young child has just died – a child that your sister was very fond of. This is neither the time nor the place for one of your lectures. Nancy is upset enough as it is.’
Donald turned to his wife. ‘Christopher was only trying to instil some sense into our daughter. Not everybody can turn a blind eye to danger, like you always seem to.’
Mary glared at her husband and grabbed Nancy’s arm. ‘Come on, darling. I’ll make us a brew and we can talk in the kitchen.’
Back at the club, Vinny was understandably drunk, angry and heartbroken. ‘I’m gonna ring Geary. I bet it’s that cunt Jackson the Old Bill are questioning again. I need to know.’
When his brother grabbed the phone, Michael yanked it out of his hand. ‘You can’t be ringing Geary this late. Wait until the morning. It’s vital that we tell Mum and Auntie Viv as soon as possible. You know how quickly bad news spreads around here, and I would hate them to hear through the grapevine.’
Vinny threw the phone against the wall. Even though he had feared the worst, the realization that Molly was actually dead had hit him like a ton of bricks.
At the same time that the buzzer rang, a red-eyed Little Vinny trotted down the stairs. ‘Dad, I can’t sleep. I keep thinking about Molly. Can I sit down here with you and have some cider?’
Unable to control the feelings of hatred he currently felt towards his son, Vinny flew at him like a raging bull. ‘Your sister is dead. This is all your fault, you thick little cunt. Your sister would still be alive if it wasn’t for you.’
Michael was out in the reception area, explaining to Ahmed what the police had said, but hearing the commotion he ran back inside.
‘Stop hitting me, Dad. I’m sorry. I really am. I loved Molly. She can’t be dead, she can’t,’ Little Vinny screamed.
It was Ahmed who dragged Vinny off his son. ‘Michael has just told me what has happened and my heart bleeds for you, it really does. The person to blame is the one who committed this terrible crime, not your boy.’
Aware that his nephew had a cut lip and eye, Michael lifted the distraught child off the floor. ‘Go and pack some clothes, boy. I’m taking you to stay at your nan’s house.’
‘Good. Get him out of my sight,’ Vinny shouted. Seconds later, he broke down in tears once again.
Since it was now the early hours of the morning, Michael had thoughtfully stopped at a phone box and rang both his aunt and mum to warn them that he was on his way.
‘Do you think my dad will always hate and blame me?’ Little Vinny asked, as he and Michael approached Queenie’s front door.
‘Your dad doesn’t hate you or blame you, Vin. He’s just upset, angry, tired, and a bit drunk tonight. He’ll see things differently once the initial shock has worn off, I promise you that.’
‘I bet he wouldn’t be so upset if it was me who died.’
‘Of course he would. Now, none of that daft talk in front of your nan and Auntie Viv. They’re going to be upset enough as it is when I tell them about your sister.’
When Michael let himself into the house with his own key, both his mum and aunt were dressed in everyday clothes and sitting on the sofa drinking brandy. They knew Molly’s body must have been found; there was no other explanation for Michael phoning them at such an unearthly hour.
When Queenie saw her grandson follow Michael into the room with a cut lip and swollen eye, her heart lifted momentarily. Perhaps Little Vinny had got himself into trouble again and that was why Michael had phoned?
Queenie’s hope was short-lived though. Michael immediately sent Little Vinny out of the room, then sat down between herself and Vivian. She could tell what was coming next.
‘Molly’s dead isn’t she?’ she asked bluntly.
Michael wrapped both women in his arms and held them tightly. ‘The police came to the club earlier. They’ve found the body of a child they believe to be Molly. I’m still in shock. I can’t take it in.’
‘Aw, my gawd! Not another death. That poor little girl,’ Vivian wept.
Queenie was in no frame of mind to cry. She had shed many tears over Molly these past few days, had fully prepared herself for this moment, and now just wanted answers. ‘So, what did the police actually say? Was Molly murdered? Where did they find her?’
Taken aback by his mother’s lack of emotion, Michael told himself she must be in shock. ‘The police said they’re treating the death as suspicious, which probably means Molly was murdered. Her body was found in Hackney.’
‘Hackney! Oh, Queen, there is no way she could have toddled off there all on her own. Breaks my heart to think what that poor child has gone through. She was so special,’ Vivian cried.
Michael kissed his distressed aunt on the forehead. She had been through so much already, having lost her only child, and there was nothing he could say or do to make her feel better.
‘Whereabouts in Hackney?’ Queenie asked coldly.
‘In the wasteland that backs onto Wallis Road. Vinny’s in bits, as you can well imagine.’
‘So why have you brought that little bastard round here with you? And what happened to his face?’ Queenie spat.
‘Vinny hit him, Mum. Right now he’s upset and looking for someone to blame. I didn’t know where else to take Little Vinny. He needs somewhere to stay until the dust settles.’
‘Well, he isn’t staying here, thank you very much.’
Michael looked at his mother in astonishment. He had assumed she would be inconsolable when he broke the news, the way Viv was, but instead she was sitting there with a face like a slapped arse and an unhelpful attitude. ‘Mum, why are you being like this? In the past, it’s always been you that has held the family together whenever there’s a crisis. Me and Vinny need you more than ever now, so does Little Vinny.’
‘Tough. I am fucking sick of death, I’ve had enough of it. Right now I’m going back to bed, Michael, so see yourself out and take that useless grandson of mine with you. If it wasn’t for him, Molly would still be alive.’
With that she ran from the room and up the stairs. It wasn’t until Queenie reached the seclusion of her bedroom that she finally allowed the tears to flow. She had loved Molly so very much. A grandmother should never have a favourite grandchild, but from the moment Molly had been born, Queenie had loved that child more than life itself. Now, she was gone for ever, just like Roy and Lenny. Why did life have to be so bloody cruel?
Even though Vinny Butler liked a drink, he rarely allowed himself to get to the stage where he was repeating himself and slurring his words, but that’s what he was doing now.
‘I mean, if your son left your little girl on her own, then some cunt snuffed her life out, would you be able to forgive your boy?’
Vinny had already asked him the same question at least four times, but Ahmed simply gave the same answer: ‘No. I could probably never forgive something like that.’
‘So, why did you stick up for the little cunt earlier then?’
‘Because he is fourteen years old, Vinny, and you were smashing his face in. I don’t know about you, but I could really do with a line right now.’ Ahmed opened a bag of cocaine and emptied its contents on the table.
Vinny stared at the white powder. Apart from sampling the produce when he and Ahmed were buying, such was his love for his daughter that he had given up snorting the shit, determined to be the best father to her that he could.
When Ahmed chopped the lump of white up with a credit card, Vinny could smell its strong fumes and was immediately tempted. He then watched Ahmed snort two large lines. When his pal handed him the rolled-up twenty-pound note, Vinny snatched it out of his hands.
Ahmed smirked as he watched Vinny greedily tucking into the cocaine. Finally the so-called friend who had left him for dead was back in his clutches. Payback was such a wonderful feeling, it really was.
The following morning, DS Smithers wasted no time in questioning Jamie Preston again. He knew Preston was as guilty as sin; now all he needed was to get the little shit to admit the truth. That was never going to be easy when a brief and social worker were present, especially since both seemed intent on sticking their oar in far too much for Smithers’ liking.
‘If you had nothing to do with Molly’s disappearance, Jamie, why did you go to the barber’s and have your hair cut into a different style the day after your photofit appeared on the regional news?’
‘Because I knew people would have seen me outside the club. I was there for over an hour, and I guessed when I saw the photofit that it was meant to be me. I’m only a kid and I just panicked.’
‘Don’t give me all that “kid” bollocks, Jamie. You spent a couple of years banged up for stabbing another boy, so playing the innocent child isn’t going to work.’
‘Jamie is still a minor,’ the social worker reminded Smithers.
Smithers glared at the rather obese do-gooder. ‘Yes, I am aware of that, thank you. But let us not forget that a three-year-old child has just been murdered and it is my job to find out who ended that child’s life and why.’
With the social worker now put firmly in her place, Smithers turned back to Jamie. ‘What did you do with the pushchair, Jamie?’
‘What pushchair? I dunno what you’re on about.’
‘The pushchair you put Molly in to take her through Victoria Park. Did you dump it in the River Lea? My officers are searching the area as we speak – we will find it, you know.’
‘I never touched Molly, and I don’t know nothing about any pushchair,’ Jamie yelled.
‘Oh, I think you do, Jamie. We found the woolly hat that you used to disguise yourself in your bedroom, by the way.’
‘What woolly hat? I told you, I never fucking touched Molly, you thick cunt!’
Realizing his client was now both upset and tearful, Jamie’s solicitor butted in. ‘Jamie needs a rest and a glass of water,’ he ordered.
When Smithers stormed out of the interview room, he bumped straight into Townsend. ‘I was just coming to speak to you, boss. The team have found what they believe to be the remains of a burnt-out pushchair and clothes less than a mile from where Molly was found.’
‘Get forensics to check it out immediately.’
‘I already have, boss. Have you played Jamie the tape yet?’
Smithers sneered. ‘No. The lying little shit is still pleading his innocence. I’m going to play it to him in a minute. Let’s see how Jamie fucking Preston is going to wheedle his way out of that one!’
Albie Butler felt awkward as he sat down at the kitchen table opposite his grandson. Little Vinny had despised him even as a five-year-old, and their relationship hadn’t improved since.
Nevertheless, when Michael had turned up in the early hours of the morning with the lad in tow, informing him of Molly’s death and Vinny beating his own son up, Albie had felt sorry for the child. He knew only too well what it was like to be on the receiving end of violence from Vinny. For all his faults as a father, he had never laid one hand on his children. It was Queenie who used to wallop them when they were naughty as kids, not him.
‘Look, boy, I know you’ve never been very fond of me. But seeing as we are now sharing a house together for the foreseeable future, I feel we should try to get to know one another a little bit better. I am so sorry for the loss of your sister, but I don’t blame you. You’re only a nipper yourself. Now, be warned, I am not the best cook in the world, but would you like me to rustle you up some breakfast?’
Needing a friend more than ever right now, Little Vinny smiled. ‘Yes please, Granddad.’
Having slept at his own house for a few hours after taking Little Vinny back there, Michael was horrified on his return to the club to find that his brother and Ahmed were still drinking and had also been on the gear.