Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection

by Kimberley Chambers

  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 anybody 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.’

  Joanna leapt up, her eyes blazing with anger. ‘Yous two are as much to blame for keeping all these secrets from me. Perhaps I could have protected my daughter more, had you been honest with me.’

  ‘Jo, it isn’t our fault. We didn’t even know that Jamie was living in London with your gran until today. We don’t have much to do with your dad’s side of the family,’ Deborah said.

  ‘Well, I tell you something now, we better start packing and move a bit further away than Tiptree. Because when Vinny finds out that it was Jamie who killed Molly, he will come after all of us. I just know he will.’

  Back in Whitechapel, Queenie and Vivian were sitting opposite one another at a table inside the club. Michael was in the office speaking with DS Townsend. ‘I really hate this club now, Queen. Everytime I look at that stage, I can see my Lenny stood there playing his records. Brings it all back to me, it does.’

  Queenie leaned across the table and squeezed her sister’s hand. ‘We’ll go home as soon as we’ve spoken to Michael. He’s been in the office for ages with the Old Bill. I wonder whether they’re talking about Molly or Vinny? Knowing the luck this family has, Bobby Jackson has croaked it.’

  ‘Whether Jackson’s kicked the bucket or not, Vinny is bound to do bird, Queen, so you need to prepare yourself for that.’

  Queenie nodded. She had been amazed when her son had walked out of the club reeking of expensive aftershave, then calmly kissed her on the cheek before getting inside the police car.

  ‘I’m gonna encourage my Michael to sell this bastard place. I’m sure it’s cursed. So many bad things have happened here.’ She looked up as Michael emerged from the office. ‘Oh dear, he doesn’t look happy. More bad news heading our way, no doubt,’ Queenie muttered. She waited until her son had shown the two policemen out before asking what they had said.

  Michael ignored the question, poured two large brandies, then handed them to his mother and aunt. ‘Drink that. You’re gonna need it.’

  Queenie knocked hers back in one gulp. ‘Bobby Jackson’s dead, isn’t he?’

  Michael sat down on the chair next to his mother. ‘Not yet. But the police don’t know if he’ll last the night. The results of the post-mortem are in. Molly was strangled on the day she went missing. Joanna’s identified her body, so hopefully we can arrange a lovely send-off for her before long. They’re holding the body at Poplar mortuary and the police said they will take us there if we want to say our goodbyes. Vinny was given the details of Molly’s death this morning, which is obviously why he flipped when he saw that shitbag Jackson.’

  Vivian took her handkerchief out of her handbag and dabbed her eyes. ‘Poor Molly. I don’t think I can face seeing her in that mortuary. She isn’t going to look too clever, is she? Not after being strangled. Such a beautiful child. It’s a wicked bastard world we live in now, it really is.’

  ‘What type of person could put their hands around that little girl’s neck and strangle her? There are some fucking sickos in this world,’ Queenie spat.

  Michael took a deep breath. He was dreading delivering his next sentence. ‘The police have charged somebody with Molly’s murder, Mum.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Jamie Preston – Judy Preston’s boy. Turns out that slag did keep her baby after all. Jamie is Dad’s son.’

  Carl stared out the window of the aeroplane. Tarkan Smith had come up trumps for him in more ways than one. Not only had Tarkan lent him the money to finalize the deal on his bar in Spain, his pal had also warned him to leave England as quickly as possible because Ahmed was searching for him with a view to kill.

  Ahmed Zane had turned out to be a true snake in the grass. Carl had toyed with sending Vinny Butler a letter before he left England, to let him know what a shitcunt his best pal really was, but had then decided against the idea. With Vinny’s daughter still missing and presumed dead, chances were Ahmed would be stuck to Vinny like glue in case he turned up, and would probably be checking the post every day too. Knowing what Ahmed was like, it wouldn’t have surprised Carl if he was the one behind Molly’s disappearance in the first place.

  Carl lit up a cigar. No way would Ahmed ever find him in Spain. For a start, the bar he was purchasing was not in Lloret de Mar as he had led Ahmed to believe, it was actually in Benidorm. Neither was his surname Thompson, it was Tanner.

  ‘Would you like any drink or snacks, sir?’ the pretty blonde stewardess asked.

  Carl smiled, then shook his head. He had no desire for lager or peanuts at the moment. Payback was the only thing on his mind, and he would make sure Ahmed the snake Zane received his one day, preferably via Vinny Butler.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  At five a.m. on the morning of her granddaughter’s funeral, Queenie Butler was sitting in her conservatory drinking tea and cursing the rotten November weather. She had prayed for it not to rain today, but as per usual, him up above had ignored her wishes and it was currently lashing it down.

  It was over a month now since Molly’s body had been found. The police pathologis
t had conducted the first post-mortem, but had not been able to release the body because Jamie’s defence had ordered a second. Vinny in the meantime had been granted bail, thanks to a good brief and a caring judge, even though the Old Bill had opposed it. Their argument was that Bobby Jackson’s head injuries were so severe, he could die at any time, and they were afraid Vinny might do a vanishing act if his GBH with intent charge was increased to murder.

  Thankfully, Bobby had not died. He was still in hospital though. By all accounts he’d suffered brain damage and was unable to communicate with family or friends. Vinny’s brief had told him that it could take anything up to eighteen months or perhaps even longer before the case made it to court. He had also told Vinny to expect a lengthy custodial sentence whether Jackson’s health improved or not.

  The thought of her eldest son getting banged up worried Queenie greatly. With his temper, Vinny was not cut out for prison life. She worried that he would get himself into more trouble on the inside than he had on the outside. Her only hope was that, once the judge and jury heard the full story, they would be lenient towards her boy.

  Dreading the funeral, Queenie decided to have a long soak in the bath to try to relax herself a bit. Seeing that tiny coffin and knowing her precious grandchild was lying inside was going to break her heart. But Queenie would not show that outwardly. Putting on a brave face for the sake of her family was what she did best.

  Joanna Preston put on her dressing gown, picked up her handbag and tip-toed towards the bathroom so she would not wake her parents.

  Taking the box out of her handbag, Joanna read the instructions, and carried them out. She then put the white stick on the window sill so she could not see the result until she was ready.

  Exhausted, she sat on the toilet seat and held her head in her hands. She was dreading Molly’s funeral, did not have a clue how she was going to get through the day. She was also dreading seeing Vinny again. The rose-tinted glasses she had once worn when looking at him were now well and truly off, and the way he had behaved this past month had taught her to see him for what he really was: a callous, arrogant self-centred bastard. Molly had been the only chink of goodness in his heart.