Payback

by Kimberley Chambers

  ‘I can’t talk to the police. I just want them to bring my baby back. Why haven’t they found her yet? Why?’ Joanna sobbed.

  Queenie ordered her sister and Nancy to leave the room. For the past couple of hours, every time a police radio had crackled into life they’d all stopped what they were doing and held their breath, praying it would be a report that Molly had been found or that there’d been a sighting or some new development. The only one who hadn’t fallen silent was Joanna, whose sobbing and crying had gone on non-stop as if she was too wrapped up in her own grief to think about anything else. Putting her arm around Jo, Queenie said gently, ‘Now, I want you to listen to me, darling. I know what has happened today is awful and you must be going through hell, just like we all are. But you really need to pull yourself together now. Molly is missing, not dead, and we have a houseful of Old Bill who are doing their utmost to find her. It’s almost dark outside and your daughter needs you to be strong. So you must stop wallowing in self-pity up here, get your arse downstairs and help the police find her. And you can start by sorting out some recent photos, OK?’

  Taking a deep breath, Joanna sat up. ‘OK. I’ll be down in a minute.’

  Little Vinny handed the crisp packet full of glue to Ben Bloggs. ‘I’m gonna go and see Shazza in a bit. She won’t talk to me on the phone. Every time I ring, her mum answers and says she’s out.’

  Ben Bloggs glanced at his pal but said nothing. For the past half hour all Little Vinny had done was describe the sex he’d had with Shazza, and he seemed far more bothered about his bird than what had happened to poor Molly.

  Little Vinny opened the third and last bottle of cider. ‘Drink that,’ he ordered Ben.

  ‘I don’t want no more. I don’t feel too well.’

  ‘You are coming to Dagenham with me, ain’t ya?’

  Ben shook his head. ‘I feel drunk and out my nut. I need to go home, Vin.’

  Hoping his pal wasn’t going cold on him, Little Vinny put an arm around Ben’s shoulders. ‘Friends forever, yeah?’

  Ben smiled. ‘Yeah, friends forever.’

  Vinny Butler squeezed Joanna’s hand as she sat down on the sofa next to him. He’d been so out of his mind with worry since Molly went missing, he hadn’t given the mother of his child a second thought.

  The lounge was becoming fuller by the second, which was why DS Townsend from the CID had asked everybody to leave the room. He wanted to speak to the parents in private. The DS turned to Joanna first. ‘Are you in contact with your father, Joanna?’

  ‘What has that got to do with Molly going missing?’

  ‘No, she isn’t. Are you, babe?’ Vinny said.

  Joanna did not reply. She could feel a hot sweat coming on. Should she lie to the police to protect her relationship with the man she loved? Or should she just tell them the truth?

  The DS cleared his throat. ‘Obviously, when a child goes missing, we have to pursue every avenue of enquiry. Finding Molly is our only aim right now, and a police officer has already been to your parents’ address, Joanna, and got no reply. We know that there is bad blood between your family and Vinny’s, which is why I need you to be truthful and tell me if you have been in contact with your dad at all?’

  ‘My dad has nothing to do with Molly’s disappearance. He can’t have,’ Joanna assured the police officer.

  ‘How can you be so sure?’ Vinny asked.

  Joanna knew her reply would probably spell the end of her relationship with Vinny, but for once she didn’t care. All that mattered was being reunited with the beautiful little girl she had given birth to.

  Snatching her hand away from Vinny’s, Joanna stared DS Townsend straight in the eyes. ‘My dad married my mum for the second time today, and they’re staying in some posh hotel tonight. No way could my dad be involved because I was at the wedding. Ask Nancy if you don’t believe me. We didn’t leave the reception until gone three, and my dad was still there.’

  Vinny would have liked to strangle his lying slut of a girlfriend there and then, but the presence of two CID officers made that impossible. So he stood up and put his foot straight through the glass coffee table instead.

  Bobby Jackson was standing at the corner of the bar in the Blind Beggar with a pal and a silly grin on his face. The scar from where Vinny had bottled him was still very visible and a constant reminder of his hatred for the man.

  The police had just been in, asking questions about Molly’s disappearance and Bobby had spun them a yarn. He told them he’d seen a child matching Molly’s description get into a blue car with a black man near the London Hospital earlier.

  Micky Dunn shook his head in disbelief. He was well aware of the bad blood between Bobby and Vinny Butler, but he had a daughter the same age as Molly and reckoned that sending the Old Bill on some wild-goose chase was well and truly out of order. ‘If you’re lying, Bob, you are gonna have to come clean to the pigs. They’ll nick you for wasting police time otherwise. Why don’t you contact them tomorrow and admit you were pissed, eh? I know you hate Vinny, and you have every reason to, but you shouldn’t take your grudge out on a three-year-old nipper. It ain’t right, mate.’

  Bobby turned to his pal and snarled, ‘Yeah? And was it fucking right that that cunt Vinny made my father disappear off the face of the earth? You don’t know what it’s like to lose someone and never find out what happened to them. Broke my mum’s heart and sent her doolally. She still wakes up every morning thinking my dad is gonna walk through the door. Obviously, I know my old man’s dead, but no one knows where the body is. That’s the worst part, not knowing where his remains are. At least if we knew, we could have a funeral for him. I have so many nightmares about the way he died and I bet he was tortured. Vinny Butler is too evil to have just put a bullet through this head. So, don’t be lecturing me, Mick, on rights and wrongs. Vinny is now going through what me and my family has gone through for many years and I hope his cunting kid is never found. It’s called payback.’

  Micky Dunn shouted up another round. It was a well-known fact that Kenny Jackson had had his fair share of run-ins with Vinny Butler and had then mysteriously gone missing never to be seen again. Micky did feel for his pal, but part of him was beginning to wonder whether Bobby might have had something to do with that poor child’s disappearance.

  He knew Bobby had had a pop or two at Vinny in the past, like when Champ and Roy were buried and he sent a flower arrangement in the shape of a gun. He’d been on about getting his revenge ever since he came out of nick, but Micky had always thought it was just the drink talking. Until now. Feeling a sick lurch in his stomach, he wondered if that was why Bobby had blown out work this morning. He’d claimed he had some important business to attend to, but when Micky had knocked at his door to see if he wanted to come down the boozer, Bobby’s clothes had been covered in mud.

  ‘What’s up with you? Cat got your tongue?’ Bobby asked, downing his Jack Daniel’s in one greedy gulp.

  ‘It weren’t you, was it, Bob?’ stammered Micky, his face a deathly shade of white.

  Bobby Jackson shrugged. ‘Weren’t me what?’

  ‘Who took Molly?’

  Having been on a drunken high since late afternoon, Bobby Jackson burst out laughing. ‘Yeah, I throttled the little brat, then buried her in a shallow grave. Now, what you having? It’s my round.’

  Queenie Butler marched towards home. As usual when she got the bit between her teeth, there was no stopping her.

  ‘Queen, slow down for Christ’s sake. I can’t keep up with you in these shoes,’ Vivian urged.

  Turning to her sister, Queenie’s face was a mask of pure hatred. ‘I will never forgive Jo for this and I mean that, Viv. What a terrible liar she’s turned out to be. No wonder Vinny went into one. She should have been indoors looking after her child, not out fraternizing with the fucking enemy. Molly wouldn’t be missing then. Killed my son, that old man of hers did. My Roy’s soul was dead for years before he finally shoved a bullet in his own brain.’<
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  Vivian so wanted to remind her sister that Vinny was also a terrible liar and had drunkenly murdered her son, but she somehow managed to hold her tongue. With Molly still missing, this was neither the time nor the place.

  Vinny Butler was sitting at a table in his club with a face like thunder. He had proper lost the plot with Joanna earlier, calling her every swear word he knew, and if it had not been for Michael and Ahmed dragging him out of the house, he would have probably been arrested for battering the lying whore.

  ‘Shall I get us all another drink?’ Nick asked. He part-owned the restaurant in Stratford with Vinny and Ahmed and had come to the club as soon as he heard the awful news.

  The only other people present were the two Old Bill who had followed Vinny back to the club, the two constables who had been standing sentry on the door ever since Molly was first reported missing, and Pete and Paul the doormen.

  Vinny put his weary head in his hands. He’d thought nothing could be worse than watching his brother blow his brains out in front of him, or looking in the back of the car he’d just wrecked and seeing his cousin’s head hanging by a thread. But those traumas paled into insignificance compared with what he was going through now. He loved Molly more than he had ever loved a living soul. Only the love he felt for his mother even came close.

  Suddenly he got to his feet. ‘I can’t sit here drinking no more. Let’s go out and search for Molly ourselves. Come on, what are we waiting for?’

  Little Vinny staggered up Shazza’s path and knocked on the front door. He knew that somebody was in because he could hear ska music playing.

  ‘Open the fucking door, Shaz. It’s me, Vinny. We need to talk,’ he yelled, kicking the door repeatedly with his right foot.

  ‘Whatever is going on?’ a lady asked, appearing from the house next door.

  ‘Shaz is my girlfriend. I need to see her. We need to sort things out,’ Little Vinny slurred.

  Aware that the music had now been turned off, Little Vinny grinned as the front door was yanked open. He had a grey Nike tracksuit on and hoped that Shazza wouldn’t be put off because he wasn’t dressed like a skinhead. But when he looked up it was the skinhead he’d befriended on the train, the one who’d invited him to the party where he had first met Shaz.

  ‘All right, Tim? Where’s Shaz? I need to speak to her.’

  Wearing only a dressing gown, Shazza appeared behind Tim’s shoulder. ‘Piss off and leave me alone, Vinny. I’m not interested in you any more. Me and Tim are an item now.’

  Vinny smirked at Tim. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

  ‘No. Shaz ain’t kidding you, mate. Now, will you please fuck off before the neighbours call the police? Go home and sober up, you muppet.’

  Suddenly realizing that Tim was wearing nothing more than a pair of three-quarter-length jeans, and his button and zip were undone, Little Vinny went ballistic. ‘You whore! You fucking slag!’ he screamed. He then picked a stone up and lobbed it straight through the downstairs window.

  ‘Leave it, Tim, please, leave it,’ Shazza screamed, as her new boyfriend ran barefooted out into the street.

  The next-door neighbour appeared again. ‘It’s OK, Sharon. I’ve already called the police, love.’

  Hearing the word ‘police’, Little Vinny turned and ran away as fast as his legs would carry him. But as he ran he vowed that he would return and get even another time. No way was Tim or Shazza getting away with mugging him off. No fucking way.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Vinny Butler tilted his head back and shut his eyes as the hot water rinsed the soap off his tired body. He, his brother, Ahmed, Nick, Peter and Paul had been joined by Big Stan and twenty-odd other local men in their search the previous evening, but had given up at three a.m. Searching for Molly in the dark, even with torches, was like looking for a needle in a haystack.

  Hearing his brother calling him, Vinny turned the shower off and shouted, ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’ Both he and Michael had stayed at the club last night. Neither had been impressed to discover that they’d been lied to by Joanna and Nancy. If the girls had said they were spending the day up town when they were actually in Johnny Preston’s company, what else had the deceitful pair of bitches lied about in the past?

  Vinny got himself dressed and checked out his reflection in the mirror. He had bags under his eyes, which was hardly surprising. How the hell was he meant to sleep when his little princess was missing? Praying that today would be the day when Molly was found alive and well, Vinny ran down the stairs. ‘Where is everybody?’

  ‘A police catering van has been set up down the street, so the Old Bill have gone to get some refreshments. Teapot One they call it – bit different to Fred’s café, eh?’ Michael remarked, in hope of at least getting a weak smile out of his brother.

  Vinny ignored his brother’s shit attempt at a joke. ‘Where’s Ahmed and the others?’

  ‘Ahmed’s gone home to get some kip, but said he’ll be back this afternoon. Pete and Paul have gone to get changed. They’ll be back by ten, and are gonna bring some decent torches with ’em in case we need them later. Nick’s still here. He’s asleep on our sofa upstairs. So, what’s the plan? You can’t go out searching in that clobber, Vin. It’s absolutely pissing down out there.’

  Vinny sighed, then flopped onto a nearby chair. He always wore suits; they matched his status in life. ‘Trust it to be pissing down again. Say Molly is lying in some alleyway or ditch, eh? How is she meant to have survived this freak weather? She’s only a nipper and didn’t even have her coat on.’

  Michael did his best to offer words of comfort, but it was a struggle. Vinny wasn’t stupid, and both men knew deep in their hearts that the longer Molly was missing, the less chance there was of a joyous reunion.

  Old Sid felt as sick as a dog as he was ushered into the interview room. He knew what his beloved wife Sylvie would have said, had she still been alive. Sylvie wasn’t a fan of the Butlers or the Jacksons. She reckoned both families were nothing but bloody trouble, and she’d have told him in no uncertain terms to keep his trap shut and not get involved.

  ‘Can you assure me that the information I am about to give you stays anonymous, officer? I am in my seventies, living alone, and I really don’t want or need any grief at my time of life.’

  ‘Your name will not go any further than this room. Now, tell us about this conversation you overheard?’

  Old Sid had been at his usual table in the Blind Beggar the previous evening, right behind where Bobby Jackson and Micky Dunn had been sitting. He’d not slept a wink for thinking of that poor missing child and knew he would never forgive himself if he didn’t share his concerns with the police.

  The officer’s ears pricked up as Sid began to explain. CID had been planning to pay Bobby Jackson a visit this morning to question him about the girl he claimed to have seen getting into a blue car with a black man. The officer who’d taken Jackson’s statement last night had noted that he was obviously inebriated, so they’d been allowing him time to sober up before following up the lead.

  ‘Are you positive that you heard Jackson say that he had throttled Molly Butler and buried her in a shallow grave?’ the police officer said.

  ‘Bobby never actually mentioned Molly by name, but Micky did. That was what the whole conversation was about. My eyesight might be going home, but there’s sod all wrong with my hearing. Bobby Jackson even laughed as he spoke about that poor child. He said he hoped she was never found, just like his father had not been. He said it was payback.’

  The officer asked Sid some more questions, then shook his hand and thanked him for coming forward with such important information.

  ‘If you arrest Bobby, you won’t mention me, will you? That pub was packed last night, and Jackson isn’t the quietest bloke in the world when sozzled. He has no reason to suspect me unless you drop me in it.’

  ‘I can assure you that your name will not be mentioned. Now, you go home and get some sleep, Sid. We’l
l contact you by phone if we need to speak to you again.’

  Joanna Preston was in a terrible state. She had not slept or eaten, she couldn’t stop shaking, and had vowed to end her own life if Molly was not found alive.

  Terribly concerned about her friend, Nancy had remained by her side. Having not been blessed with a daughter herself, she’d taken to Molly as if she were her own, and she adored that dear child as much as she loved her boys.

  Lenny’s death and funeral had been painful enough, but Molly’s disappearance was proving far worse. At least Lenny had been killed outright, so they knew he hadn’t suffered. But Molly could be anywhere with anybody, and even now she might be suffering in the most awful way possible. The not knowing was horrendous. Every time she heard a car enter the street, Nancy jumped up to the window hoping it was her husband. She’d heard nothing from Michael since he dragged Vinny out of the house last night. No doubt he still had the hump with her for lying to him.

  ‘Is it the police?’ Joanna asked hopefully, hearing a car door slam.

  ‘No. It’s your mum!’ Nancy exclaimed.

  Joanna ran to the front door and flew into her mother’s arms. Nancy watched as they clung to one another, sobbing, then excused herself by saying she was going upstairs to freshen up.

  ‘Is there any news? Where are the police?’ Deborah asked her daughter.

  ‘The police were here most of the night. They rang this morning to say they would be back soon. Oh, Mum, it’s been so awful – and it’s all my fault. Why did I leave Molly? I love her so much,’ Joanna said, between racking sobs.

  ‘I know you do, darling, but you mustn’t blame yourself. You’re a fantastic little mum and you left Molly with her father, not some bloody stranger. Where is the arsehole, by the way?’

  ‘I don’t know. He went mad when I told the police I’d been to your wedding. I had to tell them because I was frightened they might arrest Dad. How did you know Molly was missing?’