‘I need you to sign the charge sheet, Jamie,’ Smithers said.
‘I ain’t signing nothing. I’m telling the fucking truth,’ Jamie spat.
‘Just do as the policeman has asked you to, Jamie. You’re in enough bloody trouble as it is,’ Shirley ordered her grandson. How was she meant to break this news to Judy and Johnny? It was going to cause ructions.
Jamie wept when he signed his name. ‘Nan, you must believe me. Ring Uncle Johnny, he will know what to do. I never touched Molly, I swear on your life I didn’t.’
‘Don’t be swearing on my life, boy. I’ve had bad enough chest pains these past few days as it is.’
Vinny cursed and thumped the cigarette machine. He, Ahmed and Michael had been chain-smoking this past week, and he must have taken the last packet out of the vending machine in the early hours of this morning when he returned from his disastrous trip to Leyton. The last thing he wanted to do was go to the shop and have to face people, but he desperately needed some fags. He had no idea what time Ahmed would be back as he couldn’t even remember him leaving. As for Michael, he’d gone all saintly on him again last night and stormed out in a huff. He couldn’t recall his brother’s exact words, but he knew Michael had given him a right earful of abuse.
Vinny opened the bag of cocaine that Ahmed had given him, racked up a huge line and immediately felt slightly less pissed as it hit the back of his throat. He had already done over half a bottle of Scotch since Townsend had left.
Praying that he wouldn’t bump into anybody he knew during the short walk to the newsagent’s, Vinny picked up his keys. He then remembered he had heard no more from Geary, so decided to call him first. Finding out who was responsible for murdering his beautiful child was a billion times more important than his craving for nicotine.
Eight miles away in Barking, Albie and Michael were having a heart to heart. ‘Honestly, Dad, if I hadn’t left the club when I did, I’m sure I would have been tempted myself. I don’t even think of the shit any more, provided it’s not laid out on a table in front of me. But I could smell it and I really wanted some. Makes me feel so fucking weak, admitting that.’
‘Don’t beat yourself up, Michael. I’m really proud of you for walking away. We all have our demons in life – look at me with the booze. Whenever you feel tempted again, just think of your lovely Nancy and those wonderful boys of yours. What happened to Molly is incredibly sad, but now she has been found you should really concentrate on your own family. Your brother will only drag you down otherwise.’
Michael sighed. ‘I know you ain’t no fan of Vinny’s, and neither am I at times, believe me. But he is still my brother and I can’t just leave him in the lurch. What about the club, eh? Our takings were going downhill before all this happened, and there’s no way we can open up again until after Molly’s funeral. That would be far too disrespectful. As for my wonderful wife, she isn’t as fucking wonderful as you think, Dad. Every time the chips are down, she pisses off back to her parents and takes my sons with her. I stood by her when she went into nut-nut mode, but she never bastard-well sticks by me in a crisis. Selfish cow, she is at times.’
Albie was about to try to make his son see sense when Little Vinny wandered into the lounge in nothing but a pair of grey Nike tracksuit bottoms. He had been studying himself in the mirror upstairs. His hair had now grown from a skinhead into more of a crop, and after everything that had happened, being a skinhead would forever remind him of his disastrous relationship with Shazza and Molly’s death. So he had decided to become a Casual now instead. He and Ben had seen a few Casuals when they were riding up and down on the District Line last night, and they seemed to have far more success with birds than skinheads did.
‘My turn to make breakfast today, Granddad. What do you and Uncle Michael want to eat?’
‘I’ll have a bacon sandwich, boy,’ Albie said.
‘And I’ll have the same. You sure you can cook, Vin?’ Michael added.
‘Yeah. Nan taught me when I lived with her. I won’t poison yous, I promise.’
When his grandson wandered off to the kitchen, Albie turned to Michael. ‘Pleasantly surprised me, that boy has. I thought I was gonna have murders with him, but he’s been as good as gold.’
‘Unfortunately, Little Vinny is a replica of his father. When he’s good he’s very good – but when he’s bad, he’s pure evil.’
Vinny Butler marched towards the newsagent with a face like thunder. Geary’s main source of information at Arbour Square was apparently on holiday and wasn’t due back until next week. The only thing Geary had been able to confirm was the police had somebody in custody, but for the first time ever the useless old bastard could not find out who.
‘Hello, Vinny. I am so sorry to hear of your loss. Me and the missus have shed a fair few tears, let me tell you. Such a lovely kid, Molly was.’
‘Not now. I’m not in the mood,’ Vinny said, glaring at Big Stan before barging past him.
‘I want two hundred Marlboro. My vending machine has run out of fags,’ Vinny announced, as he entered the shop.
Derek put the cigarettes into a bag and handed them to Vinny. ‘No need to pay me, just replace them when you can. So sorry to hear about your Molly. Such a lovely kid and I will miss seeing her little face in here.’
Vinny snatched the bag and stomped out of the shop without replying. He knew people were only trying to be kind, but he did not want their fucking sympathy. Nothing was going to bring his daughter back, was it?
‘Hello, love. So sorry to hear the bad news. I saw your mum and aunt earlier and passed on my condolences. Do the police know how Molly died yet?’ Nosy Hilda asked.
Vinny felt his hackles rise. Less than fifty yards away Bobby Jackson was strolling along without a care in the world. ‘Hold that,’ Vinny ordered, shoving the bag into Hilda’s hands. He then darted behind the market stalls so Jackson wouldn’t spot him.
Peeping around the side of a fruit-and-veg stall, Vinny’s face reddened with fury. Bobby was standing outside the bookies, laughing and joking with One-Eyed Harry.
Unable to stop himself, Vinny ran at Bobby like a raging bull. ‘Thought my daughter going missing was funny, did you? Not laughing now, are you, cunt!’ Vinny yelled, as he repeatedly smashed Jackson’s head against the bookies’ window.
The sound of shattering glass had women and children screaming as they fled the violent scene in terror.
‘Stop it, Vinny. You’re gonna kill him, and they’ll put you in prison,’ Nosy Hilda shouted. She could barely wait to go to bingo tonight to tell her friends what had happened. For once she wouldn’t need to exaggerate the drama.
‘You’re a sicko, you scum of the earth. You joked in the pub that you’d throttled my daughter and that’s how she died. It was you who killed her, wasn’t it? Well, now it is your turn to die,’ Vinny screamed, as he repeatedly kicked Bobby in the head and face.
The petrified young woman who had only been working at the bookies for six weeks ended her call to the police and ran from the shop in tears. Bobby was a regular, one of her favourite punters, and she could not stand by and just watch him die. ‘Do something! Bobby’s dying, I know he is,’ she shouted at the gawpers.
It finally took three stallholders, two brave passers-by, and twenty-stone Helen who worked in the baker’s to drag Vinny away from his victim.
Nosy Hilda put her hand over her mouth. Bobby Jackson had a huge shard of glass jutting out of his head, and it reminded her of a horror movie she had recently seen.
One-Eyed Harry, who had been frozen to the spot in fear of losing the sight in his other eye, crouched down next to Bobby Jackson. His bloodied and battered body lay motionless. ‘Call an ambulance, quick! I don’t think he’s breathing.’
Queenie and Vivian had spent the morning visiting and tidying up the graves of their loved ones. Neither woman had fancied going to the cemetery, but the job had to be done.
‘Once Molly’s funeral is out of the way, I’ll have a
word with Michael about getting Lenny a new headstone,’ Queenie said, giving her sister’s hand a squeeze.
‘Thanks, Queen. There’s no rush though.’
‘Speaking of no rush, I reckon we might as well jump off this bus. The poxy thing ain’t moved for five minutes, and all I can hear is sirens. I reckon there’s been a bad accident up ahead.’
When Queenie and Vivian leapt off the bus and crossed the road, they guessed by the crowds of people congregated near the market that some drama had occurred.
‘It looks near to the bookies. I bet it’s another armed robbery,’ Queenie said, craning her neck.
Because of their bleach-blonde identical shoulder-length hairstyles and the fact they were always dolled up to the nines, Queenie and Vivian were easy to spot from a distance.
‘Oh, here we go. Nosy Hilda has just broken into a run – desperate to be the first to tell us what’s happened,’ Queenie said.
‘Be funny if she fell arse over tit, wouldn’t it?’ Vivian replied, chuckling at the very thought.
By the time Hilda reached Queenie and Vivian she was completely out of breath. ‘You heard the news?’ she panted.
‘No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell us,’ Vivian mumbled.
‘It’s Vinny. He threw Bobby Jackson through the bookies’ window, then did him over real bad. I even saw him stamp on Jackson’s head a couple of times.’
‘Oh dear God no. Where is Vinny now?’ Queenie asked.
‘Dunno. He ran off before the ambulance and police showed up. It looks as though Jackson’s brown bread. Got a big lump of glass poking out of his head – definitely looked a goner to me. No sign of life whatsoever.’
Queenie had tears in her eyes as she turned to Vivian. ‘We must have been wicked bastards us in our past life, you know. Talk about it never rains but it pours …’
As soon as Vinny heard the buzzer go, followed by the pummelling on the club’s front door, he knew it was the Old Bill. He walked into the reception area and shouted out. ‘Who is it?’
‘Vinny, it’s DS Townsend here. You need to open the door, mate. Don’t make things any worse for yourself.’
‘OK. Just give me half an hour to have a shave, shower and change of clothes.’
‘You need to open up now, Vinny. We have officers around the back of the club, so there is no way you will be able to do a runner.’
‘If I planned to do a runner, I would have hardly come back here in the first place, would I? As I said, just give me half an hour to freshen up, then I’ll open the door to you.’
‘Don’t mess me about, Vinny.’
‘I won’t, Townsend. You have my word on that.’
Townsend’s colleagues looked at him. ‘Why don’t we just kick the back door in?’ one asked.
‘Because it is made of thick metal, same as this one.’
‘OK, so we get the cutting equipment out and let ourselves in.’
‘No point. By the time the cutting equipment arrives, Vinny will have opened the front door,’ said Townsend.
‘You actually trust him, boss?’
‘Yes, I do.’
Shirley Preston picked up the phone. She had once been so close to both of her children, but arguments and events over the years had taken their toll and the family had drifted apart. Johnny had not invited her or Judy to his recent wedding, and Judy had not invited her or Johnny to her forthcoming one.
Shirley sighed. She was dreading these calls. Deciding to ring Judy first, she put the phone down without speaking when her daughter’s answerphone machine urged her to leave a message.
Hands trembling, Shirley then dialled Johnny’s number. ‘Hello, Deborah, it’s Shirley. Can I speak to Johnny, please?’
‘He’s upstairs at the moment with Joanna. I take it you’ve heard about Molly? Been in a terrible state we all have, especially Jo. She’s moved back in with us now.’
‘I am very sorry for your loss, Deborah, but it’s Molly I’m calling about. It’s very urgent that I speak to Johnny.’
There was a rustling as Deborah covered the receiver before shouting out, ‘Johnny, your mum is on the phone. She says it’s urgent.’
Johnny ran down the stairs and grabbed the phone. ‘What’s up?’
It was at that point Shirley burst into tears. ‘It’s Jamie. They’ve arrested him for Molly’s murder.’
‘What! No, not Jamie. It can’t be!’ Johnny whispered, as his legs went from beneath him and he collapsed onto the armchair.
‘Jamie swears he didn’t do it, son, and part of me believes him.’
‘I feel sick. I’ll have to call you back.’
DS Townsend pressed the buzzer, then began pounding his fist against the door again. ‘Your time’s up, Vinny. Either you open this door, or we cut through it. Your choice.’
Vinny smirked. He’d had a nice shower, shave, brylcreemed and combed back his thick dark hair, put one of his finest suits on and was almost ready to be arrested.
He walked into the reception area and tapped on the inside of the metal door. ‘Give me two minutes and I’ll be all yours.’
‘Two minutes is all you’ve got Vinny, and I mean that,’ was Townsend’s reply.
Vinny walked behind the bar, poured himself a large Scotch, then sat down on a sofa. He knocked back half of his drink then lifted the glass in a toast and stared at the ceiling. ‘What I did today was for you, Molly. Rest in peace, my little princess.’
Deborah and Johnny Preston were sitting opposite one another in the lounge. Half an hour after Johnny had spoken to his mother, the police had arrived to confirm the horrendous truth. Both were stunned by the news and currently debating whether the time was right to tell their daughter.
‘Johnny, we have to tell her. Jo has been having nightmares that Molly was sexually abused. I know being strangled isn’t much of a consolation, but at least we can now convince her that Molly’s death was quick and she never suffered. The policeman said that the post-mortem indicated that Molly died on the day she was snatched. I know my own daughter, and even though she obviously won’t be jumping for joy, the truth will be a comfort to her.’
‘And do we tell Jo her own fucking cousin strangled Molly? I cannot believe Jamie could do something like that. I honestly thought Vinny had upset some bastard and it was that which led to Molly’s death. It beggars belief, it really does. I am so fucking shocked,’ Johnny said, putting his head in his hands.
‘Well, if your mum reckons he’s innocent, maybe he is? We have to tell Joanna though. It’ll be on the news and all over the place before long, and we can’t have her hearing that from somebody else.’
‘I know. I suppose it must be him, Deb. CID aren’t mugs. Jamie was loitering outside the club that day, they found newspaper cuttings in his bedroom, and the sick little cunt even rang the fucking police and said he had Molly. I’ll kill him for this when he gets out, you mark my words.’
‘Shush. Joanna’s coming.’
‘What did the police want?’ Joanna asked. She had not come downstairs herself as she had been busy making her brother’s old bedroom into a shrine for her daughter. Molly’s clothes were now hung in Johnny Junior’s wardrobe, her quilt was on his bed and all her toys were scattered about the room, just as they had been in her old bedroom when she was alive.
‘Sit down next to me, darling,’ Johnny urged.
‘Please tell me Molly wasn’t raped or sexually abused, please, Dad,’ Joanna wept.
Johnny held his daughter close to his chest. ‘Thankfully, she wasn’t. The police are certain that Molly didn’t suffer too much, Jo. She was strangled not long after she first went missing.’
Joanna burst into tears and clung to her father. ‘My poor baby. This must sound weird, but I’m relieved she was just strangled. Are the police sure that nobody messed with her?’
‘Positive, Jo. There were no signs of any sexual interference whatsoever.’
‘Well, thank God for that one small mercy. Have they arrested anybod
y yet?’
Johnny glanced at Deborah. She came over to the sofa to sit the other side of their daughter and took her hand.
‘The police have arrested your cousin Jamie.’
Joanna looked at her father in astonishment. She barely knew her cousin Jamie, hadn’t seen him in years. ‘What do you mean? That can’t be right. They must have arrested the wrong person.’
With his daughter’s mind in such a fragile state, Johnny didn’t want to go into too much detail. ‘The police have lots of evidence against Jamie. They aren’t usually wrong, darling.’
‘But why? Why would Jamie do that? He hardly knew me, and he’d never even met Molly. It just doesn’t make sense.’
Deborah stroked her hair and said, ‘There are some things you don’t know about, love. Family secrets, that myself and your dad never spoke to you or Johnny Junior about. You know when your dad got locked up?’
Joanna nodded.
‘Well, that all started because of Auntie Judy. She got pregnant by Albie Butler. Jamie is his son,’ Deborah explained.
‘What? Are you winding me up?’
‘No. Your mum is not winding you up, Jo. Judy getting up the duff by Albie was why we had to move to Tiptree in the first place. When Vinny found out about Judy’s pregnancy he went round her flat and threatened her. I had to step in, Judy had nobody else to turn to. I took my pal Dave Phillips with me to Vinny’s club and politely asked him to leave my sister alone. Vinny then stabbed Dave to death, and he’d have done for me too if I hadn’t ended up behind bars. I have very little to do with Judy now, but she must have told Jamie who his father is and that Vinny threatened her. That’s probably why Mark set fire to Vinny’s club – I suspect Jamie was with him that day, only he got away and Mark died in the fire.’
‘This is unreal. It sounds like something out of bloody Dallas. I still can’t understand why Jamie would kill my Molly though.’
‘He must have held a bad grudge against Vinny, Jo. That’s the only reason I can think of. Jamie was no angel, he got put away for stabbing a lad after Mark died. But I am truly shocked he would take his anger out on Molly and us. I always got on OK with him.’
Payback Page 43
