Payback

by Kimberley Chambers

  A police photographer had just arrived, along with the Scenes of Crime Officers who would conduct the search for evidence.

  Spotting DC Clarke, Smithers walked over to him. ‘Well?’

  ‘The doll was the same model. It’s with forensics now. The two little girls know the exact spot it was found and their mother is allowing them to take the day off school tomorrow, so they can show us in the morning. They found the doll near some horses they were feeding.’

  Smithers nodded. There seemed to be no horses nearby, so the girls’ information could be vital. It would help them pinpoint the route the murderer had taken, then they could cordon off the whole area. If the doll had been accidentally dropped, there was no telling what other clues might have been left behind. The smallest detail could prove vital in securing a prosecution.

  Townsend walked over to Smithers. ‘How’s it going with the boy? Has he cracked yet?’

  ‘No. Still protesting his innocence. Turns out he’s Vinny’s half-brother.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Hates Vinny with a passion. It’s a long story, I’ll fill you in tomorrow.’

  ‘Have you played him the tape yet?’

  Smithers shook his head. The last time their mystery caller had phoned the police station to say he had Molly, the call had been recorded via the intercept equipment borrowed from New Scotland Yard. There was no doubt that it was Jamie Preston. The voice was exactly the same. ‘I know we’ve got our culprit. I’ll surprise him with the tape tomorrow. The little shit will crack then.’

  Townsend nodded. ‘Who’s going to deliver the bad news to the parents?’

  ‘You and Clarke do it. Go now. I can handle things here.’

  Nancy was sitting in Joanna’s lounge. Jo had fainted twice this evening and the GP had not long left. A combination of stress, lack of food and sleep was his diagnosis, and he had given Jo some tablets to help her get some rest.

  Deborah had forced Jo to eat a piece of toast, pop a pill, then she’d taken her upstairs to bed, which was why Nancy was currently sitting alone and deep in thought. Dean had not been in the first time she had rung him, but she had finally got hold of him earlier this evening.

  It had been strange, hearing his voice again, but at the same time comforting. Dean was living in Glasgow now and had his own painting and decorating company. He was currently single and Nancy had not replied when he told her that he had never forgotten her and urged her to visit him.

  Once that awkward moment was over, they had chatted like old friends. Dean had asked lots of questions about Tara and Tommy, and Nancy had told him all about her boys. Molly’s disappearance was another topic of conversation, and Dean admitted he was furious his nan had given an interview to the News of the World as he was now concerned for her safety.

  When Dean asked her if she was happy with Michael, Nancy said she was. But then she found herself blurting out what Daniel had done at school, how Michael had backed their son’s violent actions, and how she was worried for the future of her boys.

  The conversation had ended with Dean giving her the same advice as he had once before. ‘Nance, you have to get away from that family. I miss Tara every day and I’m glad I never saw Tommy as it would have made my leaving twice as difficult. But trouble will always follow the Butlers. Molly hasn’t gone missing by accident; she’s been taken as some form of revenge. So if I was you, I would get the hell out of there and take those boys of yours with you.’

  Knowing Dean was right to some extent, Nancy had ended the conversation by saying she had run out of change. She did however promise to keep in touch and said she would ring him again soon.

  Now she was doing her best to forget about their chat and try to relax. She poured herself a glass of wine and turned the radio on. Recognizing the opening bars of Thin Lizzy’s ‘Killer on the Loose’, she quickly turned it off. With Molly still missing, that was the last thing she needed to hear.

  When the doorbell rang, Nancy nigh-on jumped out of her skin. A visit at this time of night was an ominous sign.

  Deborah ran down the stairs. ‘I’ll get it.’

  Joanna had dozed off, but had woken when she heard the doorbell, and was now standing at the top of the stairs in a pink nightdress. ‘Who is it, Mum?’

  As soon as Nancy and Deborah saw the sombre look on the policemen’s faces, they knew.

  ‘Come in,’ Deborah said, in no more than a whisper.

  Townsend had had plenty of opportunity to get used to this part of the job over the years. He had told so many people their loved ones were dead, it ought to have been routine by now. But he still found it extremely difficult when a child was involved. Especially one as young as Molly.

  Joanna ran down the stairs. ‘Have you found Molly? Please tell me she’s OK?’ she begged.

  Guessing what news DS Townsend was about to deliver, Deborah put her arms around her daughter and held her tightly.

  ‘I am so sorry. But we have found the body of a child that we believe to be Molly.’

  Joanna broke away from her mother’s grasp, picked up Nancy’s wine glass and threw it against the wall. She then sank to her knees and sobbed uncontrollably. ‘She can’t be dead. Not my Molly. It can’t be her. It must be somebody else’s child. It’s not Molly, it’s not,’ she screamed.

  Vinny was sitting at the club knocking back the Scotch with Michael. He knew that the longer the club was shut, the more custom he would lose to Denny McCann, but that was the least of his problems. Right now he couldn’t care less if the club never re-opened.

  Little Vinny was sitting at the table sipping half a cider. ‘Where’s Albie gone?’ he asked. He never referred to Albie as his grandfather. The reason being, he did not like him very much.

  ‘Yeah, where is the old bastard?’ Vinny reiterated.

  ‘Don’t call him that, Vin. He’s been as good as gold lately. Dad’s staying at mine. I asked him to keep an eye on the house for me. I don’t like leaving it empty of a night at the moment,’ Michael lied. Albie had asked if he could stay at his because he couldn’t bear to be in the same room as Vinny.

  ‘Shall I get that, Dad?’ Little Vinny asked, when the buzzer rang.

  ‘Yeah, it’s probably Ahmed.’

  Vinny stood up, his heart beating wildly when he saw DS Townsend and a colleague walk into the club. It was nearly midnight. ‘What’s happened? Have you found Molly?’

  Townsend took a deep breath. Out of all the parents he had delivered such awful news to during his career, he was dreading telling Vinny Butler the most. ‘I am really sorry, Vinny, but it’s bad news I’m afraid. We have recovered the body of a child that we believe to be Molly.’

  Feeling his legs buckle underneath him, Vinny fell backwards onto the leather sofa. Speechless, he put his head in his hands. Images flashed through his mind. Holding Molly the day she was born and vowing to protect her for the rest of his life. His daughter’s first smile, steps and words flashed through his mind. The day she had held her chubby arms out and uttered the word ‘Dadda’ for the first time, he had very nearly burst with pride. Now she was gone. Gone for ever, and part of him had died with her.

  Little Vinny was distraught. ‘I am so sorry, Dad. This is all my fault. If only I hadn’t fallen asleep that day. I loved my little sister and I will never be able to forgive myself, not ever,’ he sobbed.

  An ashen-faced Michael put an arm around his nephew. ‘It isn’t your fault. Go upstairs, boy, while me and your dad talk to the police, eh?’

  As soon as Little Vinny was out of earshot, Michael asked the obvious. ‘Was Molly murdered? Where did you find her?’

  ‘The body was found buried in the wasteland that backs onto Wallis Road in Hackney. We are treating the death as suspicious, but will not know the exact details until a post-mortem is carried out. Obviously, we will need a family member to identify the body. But we strongly believe that it is Molly.’

  Vinny was tapping his fingertips against the table in an odd manner. When he lo
oked up, Townsend noticed a dangerous glint in his eyes. ‘Don’t give me all that “suspicious” bollocks. You must know if my daughter was fucking murdered or not?’

  ‘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.