DI Smithers was certainly no admirer of Vinny Butler, but the pain the man was going through was clear to see. ‘Vinny, I’ve cleared out most of the media. The only people left in that room now are involved in the TV appeal. You need to do this, and your daughter needs you to do it too.’
Vinny looked around and came face to face with Joanna and her stony-faced mother. ‘Look, I’m not Mr Popular. Let those two do the appeal. It will have far more impact.’
‘Are you OK, Vinny?’ Joanna asked, aware of the anguish on her partner’s face.
Unable to control his emotions any longer, Vinny crouched down and put his head in his hands. ‘No, I ain’t, Jo. I can’t stand not knowing where Molly is. It’s killing me, slowly but surely. I can’t do the appeal, I want you and your mum to do it instead. More people will come forward if yous two do it.’
Deborah snarled as her daughter bent to comfort the man that she and Johnny despised so much. It should be Vinny comforting Jo, if he was any kind of a man, not the other way round. She tugged at her daughter’s arm to lead her away. ‘Come on, Jo. I’ll do the appeal with you.’
Bemused by Vinny’s decision, DI Smithers shrugged. ‘Let’s get a move on then. The TV crew are waiting for us.’
Mary picked the boys up from school and as a treat took them to the Wimpy bar. She had decided to tell them the news about Molly over a burger, chips and a milkshake.
Adam was the last to finish his meal and the minute he had done so, Mary broke the bad news as softly as she could. ‘You know you are staying with me and your granddad at the moment, and I told you that was because your mum was busy? Well, there’s something else I need to tell you. The reason your mum is busy is because she’s looking after Auntie Jo.’
‘Is Auntie Jo not well, Nan?’ Lee asked. Even though Mary and Donald were not his real grandparents, he always referred to them as if they were now. He didn’t call Nancy ‘Mum’ though, because he still remembered his real mum.
‘Auntie Jo is very upset at the moment, and the reason for that is … your cousin Molly has got lost.’
‘Did she get lost in Sainsbury’s like I did that time, Nan?’ Adam asked innocently.
‘No, love. Molly is very lost at the moment.’
‘So who will find her?’ Lee asked.
‘Well, the police are all searching for her and tonight Auntie Joanna will be on the news asking for people to help look for Molly,’ Mary replied. She never mentioned Vinny in front of the boys, not unless they did.
‘Do you think Molly is playing hide and seek?’ asked Adam, with a quizzical expression on his face.
Daniel gave his five-year-old brother a tap on the head. ‘’Course she ain’t, you div. How long has Molly been missing for, Nan?’
Mary was rather thrown by her grandson’s behaviour towards his younger brother and his blunt question. Both she and Donald had noticed a change in Daniel of late. Nothing major, just the odd swear word and the fact he seemed to be growing up a little too fast for their liking. ‘Molly’s been missing since yesterday afternoon. Now apologize to your brother for hitting him, Daniel. That’s naughty.’
‘No.’
Mary was not used to being defied. ‘You will apologize, because if you do not, I will give you a clump around the head too.’
‘Go on then. I don’t care. Won’t hurt me. I’m a man, just like my dad is.’
Mary looked in horror at her usually polite grandson. From his eyes to his hair to his skin, he had all the features of his father’s family. In fact, the way he had just spoken to her and was now glaring at her defiantly, she could see nothing of Nancy in the child whatsoever. And the most worrying thing of all? Daniel was only bloody seven.
Ahmed Zane met Carl Thompson at the yard they had hired for the set-up in River Road. He had taken Burak’s words of warning on board and had decided to pay Carl another couple of grand to keep him sweet.
‘What’s that?’ Carl asked, when Ahmed handed him a rather slim envelope.
‘Two thousand pounds. I thought it would help tide you over until we have arranged another date.’
With a sneer on his face, Carl slung the envelope back at Ahmed. ‘Two thousand! What do you take me for? We had a deal, Ahmed. You knew I was planning to move to Spain and you promised that I would be paid in full this weekend. Only last week I told you I’d put down a deposit on the bar, and the balance is due in the first week of October.’
‘Yes, but you know the score, Carl. I made it clear to you at the very beginning that you would not be paid in full until the job was finished. It isn’t my fault that Vinny’s daughter has gone missing, is it?’
Carl chuckled. ‘Isn’t it? The way you hate that geezer’s guts, it wouldn’t surprise me. You can’t kid a kidder, Ahmed, so don’t ever try to pull the wool over my eyes. What happened? Did you and that cousin of yours suddenly have a change of heart? Did you decide to forget about putting Vinny behind bars and bump off the kid instead, saving yourself the thirty-five grand you owe me in the process?’
Ahmed grabbed Carl by the throat and slammed him against the wall. ‘I wouldn’t go spouting off accusations like that, if I were you. I am no child snatcher, you hear me?’
‘OK, I just thought it was a bit of a coincidence, that was all. Can you let go of my neck now, please?’ Carl croaked.
Ahmed released his grip, then pointed a finger of warning in Carl’s face. ‘I call the shots. You will get the rest of your money when this job is over. Now, do you fucking understand me?’
Carl nodded, waited until Ahmed had left the yard, then smirked. He would give the cocky Turkish bastard one week to come up with the rest of his dosh and if he didn’t, Carl would let Vinny Butler know what his faithful mucker was really up to. Carl was always loyal to one thing – the highest bidder.
Back in Whitechapel, Queenie, Vivian and Albie were all glued to the local news. ‘This is it,’ Queenie said, turning the volume up.
‘Joanna and Deborah Preston the mother and grandmother of Molly Butler, broke down today during their public appeal for information about the missing three-year-old. Speaking at a news conference in London, alongside DI Smithers, who is leading the case, Joanna Preston pleaded for information and the safe return of her beloved daughter.’
‘Where the bleedin’ hell is Vinny?’ Queenie muttered.
‘Shush,’ Vivian urged her sister.
‘My Molly is the sweetest, most loving, beautiful daughter that a mum could ever wish for, and I just want her back home with me where she belongs. If somebody has her or knows where she is, please ring the police,’ Joanna sobbed.
At that point, Albie started to weep too.
‘Be quiet. I’m trying to listen,’ Queenie hissed.
With Joanna clearly unable to continue, Deborah squeezed her daughter’s hand and looked into the camera, fighting back the tears as she asked anyone who had information to come forward. ‘What the family is going through is worse than torture and we just need to know where Molly is,’ she added.
The appeal was then switched back to the news presenter. ‘Molly was last seen at her father’s nightclub in Whitechapel at around one thirty yesterday afternoon, but there have been no sightings of her since. Molly was wearing a pink tracksuit and white trainers very similar to the outfit you can now see on your TV screens, and she was carrying a doll identical to this one,’ the reporter explained, pausing to allow viewers time to study both images.
A photo of Molly then flashed up and the presenter ended the report by urging the public to call the phone number that was shown below if they had seen Molly or had any information as to her whereabouts. She also said that all phone calls would be dealt with in the strictest confidence.
Queenie switched the TV off and began gathering up her handbag and coat. ‘Vinny was meant to be doing that appeal. I’m gonna pop down to the club and find out what’s gone on. Deborah bleedin’ Preston hardly knew Molly, so Christ knows what she was doing sticking her oar in. It should have been me sat there with Jo,
not her.’
Vivian waited until her sister had slammed the front door behind her before turning to Albie. ‘I know me and you have never seen eye to eye on most things, but I have to admit you were right about one thing all along. You always said Vinny was no good, didn’t you?’
Albie nodded sadly. ‘I’m ashamed to call him my son, Viv, and I am so sorry that he was the one what killed Lenny.’
‘I’ll never forgive Vinny for what he did, not ever. To cover up my boy’s death was the lowest of the low. And I bet I know why he didn’t do that TV appeal.’
‘His arsehole went?’
With a twisted expression on her face, Vivian nodded. ‘You got it in one, Albie. Vinny Butler might be a big man around here, but me and you both know he is the most cowardly piece of shit that God ever put breath in.’
The boy switched the television off in favour of listening to Paul Weller. He was a massive fan of The Jam, having got into their music while banged up.
The TV appeal had been quite a disappointment to him. He had been gagging to see Vinny Butler mug himself off on TV, but Vinny was nowhere to be seen.
The boy smirked as he sang along to ‘Going Underground’. Every time he heard this song now it would remind him of Molly and the pain Vinny was currently going through. He must be wondering if his daughter was under the ground.
‘Boy, your tea’s ready. Come and eat it before it gets cold. I’ve made you your favourite, Shepherd’s Pie.’
The boy grinned and lifted the arm off the record. ‘Coming, Nan.’
Vinny Butler was back at the club with Michael and Ahmed. He had not been able to face watching the news, but Michael had, and he said it had been a strong appeal and Jo and her mum had done well. ‘Is Little Vinny still upstairs?’
Michael nodded. ‘He watched the appeal with me and got upset. He blames himself, I think.’
‘And so he fucking should,’ Vinny said, knocking back his Scotch.
‘You shouldn’t be too hard on him, Vinny. He’s only a kid himself,’ Ahmed reminded his pal, even though he had said differently when Molly had first been reported missing.
‘Speak of the devil,’ Vinny mumbled, as his son walked towards him.
‘Is it OK to sit down here with you, Dad? I just want Molly to come home. I feel so guilty. I’m really sorry.’
Aware that his son was crying, Vinny stood up and gave him an unmeaningful hug. ‘Sit your arse down next to Michael while I pour you a cider.’
When the phone rang, Vinny dashed to answer it. He had spoken to Geary when he had arrived back from the police station and had been on tenterhooks ever since, waiting for him to call back.
‘I’ve got some news for you. Meet me in our usual spot at eight o’clock, and do not tell a soul. It cost me to get this info for you, Vinny, so you need to bring three grand with you. OK?’
If Vinny had a million pounds in his safe, he would have gladly handed it over to Geary if it meant getting Molly back. ‘Fine. I’ll be there.’
Back at the police station, DI Smithers and his team were sifting through the various new leads the TV appeal had thrown their way. The phones had not stopped ringing since Joanna and Deborah’s heartfelt interview.
‘’Ere guv, we’ve got another sighting of that young lad who was watching Vinny’s club. A lady has given the same description as that old boy you spoke to. That’s the third one now, and the lady said he was acting shifty. He insulted her when she looked at him, same as he did the old fella. She left her name and telephone number.’
‘Right, let’s get the lady to help us with a photofit and see if it matches the one Mr Arthur came up with. He was a bit unsure and kept changing his mind, so I don’t want to put the photofit out unless we’re sure we’ve got it right,’ Smithers replied.
‘What about Bobby Jackson?’ DS Townsend asked.
‘We’ll let him go as soon as his alibi is confirmed,’ Smithers replied. He was now ninety-nine per cent sure that Bobby Jackson had not abducted Molly Butler. Jackson certainly didn’t have the demeanour of a guilty man. He had stuck by his story that he was drunk and just joking, and his pal Micky Dunn had also backed that up. Micky admitted that Bobby had made the remark about killing Molly and disposing of her body, but told the police that even though he had been shocked at the time, when he had woken up sober this morning he had known Bobby was only messing about. He’d also said that Bobby was only brazen about Vinny when inebriated; so long as he was sober, he was absolutely petrified of the man.
‘We’ve another new lead, guv. A bloke who was walking through Victoria Park says he saw a teenage lad with a child in a pushchair and reckons it could have been Molly. He said she had a pink tracksuit on and a doll in her hand. The lad that was with her had a dark woolly hat on and was dressed in dark clothing. The child had some kind of woolly hat on her head too.’
DI Smithers felt the same surge of excitement that he always felt when on the verge of a breakthrough. ‘Right, lads, let’s follow these new leads up ASAP.’
Vinny Butler swung into the car park and pulled up next to Geary. ‘Well?’ he asked, as he leapt into the passenger seat. He was dreading what Geary had to say, but any news was better than none.
‘You got the money?’
Vinny handed the envelope over. ‘Well?’ he asked again, but this time with both impatience and anger in his tone.
‘I mean it, Vinny, you need to swear to me on both your kids’ lives that you won’t let on this info has come from me.’
Vinny saw that comment as a good sign. Whatever Geary had to tell him, he knew it involved Molly still being alive. ‘I swear, George. You know you can trust me.’
‘Bobby Jackson is currently in custody in connection with Molly’s disappearance. He hasn’t been charged yet, but was apparently heard spouting his mouth off in the Blind Beggar last night. He gave the police a false lead first, and then a witness overheard him say other stuff.’
Vinny’s blood ran cold. ‘What other stuff?’
Knowing how fiery Vinny could be, George decided to hold back certain parts of the conversation he’d had with his informant. ‘Not sure of the exact details, but he hinted that he knew where Molly was. They dragged his pal Micky Dunn in for questioning earlier as well. Micky was with Bobby when the witness overheard the conversation.’
Vinny felt all the colour drain from his face. He had been responsible for the disappearance of Bobby’s father Kenny, and had made sure the man died a nasty death. Although Bobby knew Vinny was to blame, he couldn’t prove it. The police had tried to make a case but failed because Vinny had a watertight alibi.
‘Who’s the witness, George?’
‘No idea. I asked my source, but he didn’t know. Apparently, Jackson is claiming he was drunk and is denying that he had anything to do with Molly’s disappearance. Naturally, I’ll keep you updated on the situation …’
Ahmed Zane smirked as he opened the door of the club and Vinny’s mother stormed in like a bull in a china shop. ‘Evening, Queenie,’ he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He knew the truth about Lenny’s accident was now out in the open, but since Queenie had always hated him it didn’t surprise him that her attitude towards him hadn’t changed.
Spotting Michael and Little Vinny chatting away with a pint in front of them as though they didn’t have a care in the world, Queenie pursed her lips. ‘Well, well, well, isn’t this cosy?’
Michael leapt up. ‘Hello, Mum. Let me get you a drink.’
Queenie picked up the drink that was sitting in front of her grandson and took a sip. ‘Being rewarded for losing his sister, is he?’
‘Don’t say stuff like that to him, Mum.’
Little Vinny put his head in his hands and wept again. ‘Nanny’s right. It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t fallen asleep, Molly would be here with us. I wished I would have played with her more now. She always wanted me to.’
Queenie was not one for crocodile tears and never had been. ‘Where’s Vinny? And why did
n’t he do the appeal?’ she asked Michael.
‘Hey, why don’t you talk to your mum in private, Michael? While I have a chat with this young man,’ Ahmed said, sitting down next to Little Vinny and putting a supportive arm around his shoulders.
When Michael nodded gratefully, then led his mum upstairs, Little Vinny turned to Ahmed. ‘My nan hates me, my dad hates me, Jo hates me. What am I gonna do?’
‘You have to do what I did when the same happened to me. I was blamed for Champ’s death when it was not even me driving that car, but I just held my head high and took it on the chin. I must admit, I am relieved now your dad has owned up to it though. Your family must have hated me.’
Little Vinny sat with his mouth wide open. ‘What! My dad killed Champ?’
‘Oh, I am so sorry. I thought you knew. The truth came out recently down at Eastbourne, and because all the rest of your family were there, I just assumed that your dad would have told you, seeing as you’re not a kid any more.’
‘No, he never said anything.’
‘Well, it was an accident. Your dad did not mean to kill Champ, just the same as you never meant to fall asleep while you were looking after Molly. It is probably wisest to keep this conversation to ourselves though, eh? Your dad has enough on his plate at the moment without him finding out I’ve put my foot in it. Can I trust you not to say anything?’
Little Vinny nodded.
‘Well, let me pour us another drink then, and if you ever need anybody to talk to on the quiet, then I’m your man. You can trust me too.’
Little Vinny sighed deeply as he watched Ahmed saunter up to the bar. It was awful his dad had killed Champ, but in a strange way it had lessened his own guilt.
Fiona Mason launched herself at her brother the minute he sauntered through the front door. She had been that shocked when she had seen the news bulletin, she had dropped the iron and burnt her hand. ‘I want you out of this flat, Scott. I’ve had enough. You must have had something to do with it, else why would I have to lie to the police for you, eh?’
To stop her from punching him in the chest, Scott grabbed hold of his little sister’s wrists. ‘What’s happened? Have the Old Bill been back?’
Payback Page 35