Payback (22 page)

‘I’m not overly struck either. Bit of a flash Harry, ain’t he? No point saying anything to Silly Lily though. She’s already smitten, I can tell. She ain’t known him five bastard minutes and she’s already staring at him with those sickly puppy-dog eyes. It’ll be left to me to pick up the pieces when she gets her heart broken again. And she will. You mark my words.’

Little Vinny Butler thought he was about to drop from exhaustion when his hard task master of a father entered the cellar. Even though Little Vinny had felt as rough as a badger’s arse, he had still worked like a Trojan.

Vinny had a quick inspection, then turned to his son. ‘You’ve done a good job, boy. Carry on as hard as you have been working, then after your month’s trial, we’ll have a chat about wages.’

‘Thanks, Dad. Do you forgive me now for taking your gun? I am sorry and I’ll never touch it again, I promise.’

‘Too right you won’t. You’d never fucking find it again to touch it. I’ve made sure of that.’

‘So, am I forgiven?’

Vinny studied his prodigy. All he had ever wanted was to turn his son into a man like himself. Judging by the way the lad had behaved since being expelled from school, Vinny reckoned he’d done the right thing by forcing his son to work at the club.

‘I wouldn’t say you’re forgiven just yet, but you keep out of trouble, and carry on grafting as you have been, I’m sure my mood will soon soften.’

‘Am I allowed out again now? It’s really boring being stuck indoors every night.’

‘Don’t push your luck, boy. You gotta earn your stripes first. Once I’m sure you’ve learnt your lesson, then you can go out. I meant what I said about Ben Bloggs, though. The kid’s a div and I don’t want you knocking about with him no more. Find yourself some new pals, ones that have brains preferably, and who aren’t fucking skinheads.’

‘OK.’

Realizing his son looked rather crestfallen, Vinny put an arm around his shoulders. ‘Look, I’ve spent far too much time with Jo and Molly recently, so how about I take you out tonight for a bit of grub? You can choose where we eat and you can even have a couple of halves of lager now you’re a working man.’

‘Will it be just the two of us?’

‘Yep.’

Little Vinny grinned. ‘I’d like that, Dad. I really would.’

Christopher Walker had had a big smile on his face all day. Olivia and his parents had got on really well, and for the first time in his life, Christopher knew what it was like to be in love. It was a wonderful feeling and reminded him of the buzz he had felt when he had first gained promotion to detective sergeant.

The drug squad was the path that Christopher had chosen in his career, and that was how he had met Olivia. Her father was his old boss and he’d introduced them to one another at a party. Like himself, Olivia had never been in a serious relationship before and her dad was over the moon that they were now dating.

When his phone rang, Christopher half expected it to be his mother. He had called her earlier to ask privately what she and Dad had thought of his girlfriend, but she had cut him short. She was waiting for a phonecall from a holiday park to confirm some reservation, and had promised to ring him back.

‘There’s some weird-sounding bloke on the phone, boss. He asked for you in person, says he has some information for you. Shall I put him through?’

Christopher waited for the caller to be connected, then said, ‘DS Walker. How may I help you?’

‘I think it is I who can help you, Christopher.’ Surprised that the caller knew his christian name, Christopher sat bolt upright. ‘Who are you? And what is this about?’

‘I’m an acquaintance of a man I am sure you would very much like to arrest. He is evil, deserves to be behind bars and I have devised a little plan where I aim to hand him to you on a plate. This particular arrest will be a biggie, and you should be able to lock him up for a large part of his sorry life. It will do wonders for your career, trust me on that.’

Instinct told Christopher that this was no crank call, but something about it made him feel extremely edgy. ‘Who is this man you are referring to?’

‘I will not discuss names over the phone. It is more than my life is worth and yours. I will meet you, but you must come alone. You are the only officer I am willing to deal with.’

Deciding to call the anonymous informant’s bluff, Christopher did his utmost to sound cool. ‘I can assure you that nobody bar me is listening to this conversation. And I can also assure you that I will not be travelling alone to meet you unless you give me a name.’

The caller chuckled. ‘Let’s just say it’s a chap who you could have put behind bars when you was a kid. It’s a shame you lied on his behalf, because you could have saved the pair of us all this grief now, couldn’t you? I take it you know who I’m talking about?’

Feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, Christopher dropped the phone in shock.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘I don’t believe you, Ahmed! I know you want to see that scumbag get his comeuppance – as do I – but not at the risk of our own liberty. You think that policeman of yours is going to be satisfied with arresting Vinny? Once you mention drugs, he’s going to be watching us like a hawk, waiting for a chance to put us away too.’

Seething with anger, Ahmed forced himself to remain calm in the face of his cousin’s insolence. ‘I am disappointed by your lack of faith in me, Burak. Do you seriously think I would be so stupid as to put our necks on the line? The police can watch all they want – once this is done, I won’t be making any more drug deals.’

‘But the drugs are our biggest earner, Ahmed. You think we can live like we do on what the restaurant business brings in?’

‘Money makes money, Burak. I fancy investing some of my millions in building the most upmarket hotel Turkey has ever seen. Have you any idea how much money can be made out of tourism these days? Especially if the clientele are wealthy.’

‘How do you know you can trust the copper that you spoke to? Say he double-crosses you?’ Burak warned.

Ahmed chuckled. Five days had passed since he had rung the police station and he had every intention of making Christopher sweat some more before calling back again. ‘I have the upper hand over our friend DS Walker, and if he tries to double-cross me, he will wish he had never been born.’

Michael Butler put a supportive arm around his father’s hunched shoulders. Dorothy’s funeral had been a small affair with no more than thirty people in attendance, but she’d had a pleasant send-off and Michael had given a lovely speech on his father’s behalf.

‘Come on, Dad. The car’s waiting for us. Dorothy wouldn’t want you hanging about here. She’d want you to go back to the house and toast her memory with a few brandies.’

‘I hate that house now, boy. Everywhere I look I picture her there. I see her in the kitchen, cooking, sitting in her favourite armchair doing her knitting. All her clothes are still in the wardrobe and it breaks my bloody heart,’ Albie wept.

‘Look, I’ll tell you what. We’ll go back to the house and finish giving Dorothy the send-off she deserves, then when I drive back to Barking tomorrow, I want you to come with me. A change of environment will do you good, and it will only be me and you there. Nancy’s going to Kings with the boys at the weekend.’

‘OK, son. And thank you for making the speech and paying for the funeral. You did my wonderful Dorothy proud.’

Queenie and Vivian were in deep discussion as they sat waiting for their washing to finish in the launderette. Almost a week had passed since Brenda had turned up at Kings with her mystery boyfriend and the kids in tow, and there was no sign of them sodding off home.

Like every normal nan, Queenie adored each and every one of her grandchildren. But eight-year-old Tara and three-year-old Tommy were a handful, to say the least. Tara was a child who had tantrums on a regular basis, especially if she didn’t get her own way, and Tommy was as boisterous as Little Vinny had been as a child. The little bastard had even broken her new plant pot yesterday, which had cost her twenty quid. Queenie had been fuming ever since.

‘Gonna say something as soon as I get back, Viv, I am. I mean, it’s bad enough being lumbered with Bren and the kids without warning, without her bringing Billy Big Bollocks with her an’ all. We don’t even know the geezer, and I can’t empty my bowels knowing he’s sitting outside the khazi listening. Four times I’ve had to walk over to that public toilet just to have a crap.’

‘I agree, it ain’t on, Queen. I had to have a dump in the clubhouse yesterday and you know how I hate having to do number twos in public places. What you gonna say?’

‘Well, Vinny’s bringing Joanna and Molly down at the weekend, so I shall tell ’em we’re short of space and insist they piss off home. What you looking at?’

‘Ray’s outside in his roller. Give us me bag so I can put some lippy on, quick!’ Vivian said impatiently.

Ray King was the owner of the holiday park, and was often seen driving around in his smart Rolls-Royce. A pleasant-natured chap, Ray often stopped to chat to owners and holidaymakers, but cursed his luck when he saw Queenie and Vivian marching towards him. Whenever they accosted him, he could never get away.

‘Cooey, Mr King. Beautiful day, isn’t it? How have you been keeping?’ Vivian asked, in her posh voice.

‘I’m fine thank you, ladies. How about yourselves?’

Now it was Queenie’s turn to put on a posh voice. Some people fondly referred to Ray as Mr Eastbourne, and Queenie wished she had married a man with such a profile instead of that useless drunken tosspot Albie. Queenie would never admit how she felt about the handsome Mr King to anyone, not even to Vivian, but her heart skipped a beat whenever she saw the man.

‘I wanted to ask you something, Mr King. You know you have your initials on your number plates, well I would like my Vinny and Michael to have their initials on theirs. What shop did you buy them in? Was it Halfords?’

When Mr King chuckled as he explained to her that you could not just walk into a shop and buy personalized number plates, Queenie felt such a fool that she wanted the ground to open up and swallow her. Her cheeks glowing as red as her lipstick, she grabbed her sister by the arm and started to drag her away. ‘Thank you for your time, Mr King. Come on, Vivian, our washing’s ready.’

Nancy Butler was sitting in her usual spot in Barking Park. She wasn’t due to meet Joanna until two, but had decided to get there early as the boys seemed to play her up indoors.

Checking the boys were still playing nicely, Nancy laid back on the grass and smiled. She and Michael had made love twice in the past week and it felt so nice to feel loved and wanted once again.

‘You’re pulling funny faces, Nancy. You haven’t swallowed a wasp, have you?’

‘Auntie Nancy. Say hello to Molly Dolly.’

Nancy leapt up and hugged Joanna and her niece. ‘You’re early. I came over here because the boys were driving me mad indoors, so what’s your excuse?’

When Molly ran over to her cousins, Joanna flopped down on the grass. Even though she had spoken to Nancy since Vinny had nearly broken her wrist, she had felt too embarrassed to tell her what had happened. However, she had to get her problems off her chest and if she couldn’t trust Nancy with her dilemma, who could she trust?

Nancy sat with her mouth open as Joanna told her what had happened. ‘Vinny’s still not talking to me properly, Nance, and I’ve got my mother ringing up every five minutes asking if I’ve had a chance to talk to him yet. What am I meant to do? I love my dad and I love Vinny. I feel like I’m torn between the Devil and the deep blue sea.’

Knowing she had to choose her words carefully, Nancy thought about her answer. She had always hated Vinny with a passion. He had been the man who had forced her parents into leaving their beloved café in Whitechapel by blackmailing her brother Christopher to lie for him as a child. He was also the man who had broken both of his own father’s legs and tried to break things off between his brother Roy and his fiancée.

‘Well, say something then?’ Joanna urged.

Nancy squeezed Joanna’s hand. She had never admitted her true feelings about Vinny, or anything Michael had told her in confidence, so there was little point in worrying her pal now. ‘You will just have to tell your mum the truth, Jo. Tell her you had a word with Vinny about your dad seeing Molly and he went ballistic. Don’t tell her he was violent towards you though. That will only worry her. Can I ask you something?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Are you afraid he might attack you again?’

‘Vinny didn’t attack me, Nance. All he did was twist my wrist, and he hasn’t touched me since. He’s not some lunatic you know. He just got angry. Anyway, it’s not him I’m worried about, it’s my dad. He’s desperate to be part of Molly’s life and mine, and if Vinny stops that from happening, I’m worried my dad might do something stupid.’

‘Like what?’

‘I’m not sure, but I do know my dad has a streak of madness in him. If he shot Roy, who’s to say he won’t go mental again and shoot Vinny? You have to remember, that bullet was meant for Vinny in the first place. What am I gonna do, Nance?’

‘I don’t know, Jo. It’s such a bloody awkward situation, but I will give you a piece of advice: if Vinny ever hurts you again, you should leave him. Michael’s no angel, but even though we’ve been through our fair share of strife, I know in my heart he would never lay a finger on me. If a man hits or hurts you once, you can be sure they will do it again.’

Vinny Butler met Ahmed at the Ship and Shovel pub in Barking. ‘Where’s Richie?’ he asked his pal.

‘Busy. One of his kids has been taken ill. Richie gave me the keys and I’ve already checked it out, Vin. It’s well out the way and the perfect place to do business such as ours.’

‘It had better be,’ Vinny replied warily. He still was not happy being actively involved in the drug trade and had even been thinking about pulling out. The only thing that was stopping him from doing so was Molly. She would be starting school soon and Vinny was determined that his daughter would be brought up and attend school in a much better area than Whitechapel.

Aware that Vinny was quiet, Ahmed decided to call his bluff. ‘If your heart isn’t in this, Vin, then it isn’t too late to pull out.’