‘Invite him in, Mary. DC Maynard wants to ask him some questions,’ Donald bellowed. He’d just been telling the officer how his villainous son-in-law wanted out of the marriage, and he wouldn’t have put it past him to have had a hand in his daughter’s disappearance.
Michael walked into the lounge and shook the officer’s hand. He’d learnt over the years it was far better to be polite towards the bastards. Tended to get you further. ‘I’m Michael Butler, Nancy’s husband.’
‘Estranged husband,’ Mary piped up. ‘Michael is now with another woman.’
‘Can you tell me where you were yesterday, Michael?’
‘Indoors all day with my boys.’
‘So you never left the house at all?’
‘I popped out for an hour, tops. Why?’
‘Where did you go?’
‘My youngest son got mown down by a train last Sunday. I went to the funeral directors to order a coffin for him. That OK with you?’ Michael replied, his voice laden with sarcasm.
‘Are there people who can vouch for your whereabouts?’
‘Yes. My sons, brother, dad, the undertaker … You’re barking up the wrong tree, interrogating me, pal. Nancy’s got a history of depression and wandering off alone,’ Michael spat. He was no longer in the mood to be polite. This geezer obviously was the cocktard of the police force.
‘When Mary rung you this morning to ask if you’d seen Nancy, you told her that you’d been indoors all day,’ Donald chimed in.
‘D’ya know what, I ain’t gotta listen to this shit. I came round here to fucking help. Should’ve known better. If you wanna ask me anything else, then arrest me. I’m off now. Got better things to do than talk bollocks.’
On that parting note, Michael stormed out of the house and slammed the front door.
Deborah Preston had had better days. Her husband had left her, her daughter had been in tears since showing up at the house and her granddaughter was driving her doolally. ‘No, Ava. How many more times do I have to tell you, you’re too young to have a dog? They need walking regularly and they’re bloody hard work. Now go and play with your toy dog in the garden while I try and cheer your mummy up.’
Pouting, Ava picked up her toy dog and threw it against the wall. ‘Don’t wanna play with this one. Want a real one. Katie’s got one and she’s only four.’
‘I couldn’t give a toss what Katie’s got. Now get out in that garden before I clout you one. Go on, shoo,’ Deborah demanded, raising her hand.
When Ava sulkily did as she was told, Deborah turned to her daughter. ‘She’s got worse since she’s had contact with Vinny. Want, want, want. You’re gonna have to have a word and tell him to stop spoiling her, Jo. He’ll turn her into a monster if he keeps giving in to her every whim.’
‘Ava wanting a dog is the least of my problems today, Mum. Do you think I should drive to Barking and wait with Nancy’s parents for news? I feel so bloody guilty. When Molly went missing, Nancy barely left my side. I’ve let her down. As soon as Mary told me the news, I should’ve gone straight to her. She needed me.’
Deborah held her teary-eyed daughter in her arms. ‘You can’t blame yourself, love. You did ring Nancy and she didn’t want to talk to anyone.’
‘But I should’ve been there for her, like she was for me. I’d never have coped when Molly died if it wasn’t for Nancy. She was my rock.’
Ahmed Zane welcomed his cousin with a hug. ‘Happy birthday, Burak. Follow me, I have champagne on ice waiting for you in the office and a wonderful day planned.’
‘What are we doing?’
Ahmed grinned. ‘Champagne, cocaine and women. Oh, and I thought we’d drop in at Vinny’s club, just for the fun of it. It’ll be the last drink we ever have with him.’
Burak burst out laughing. ‘Fucking brilliant!’
Albie Butler liked Nancy and was very worried when his son told him the news. ‘I wonder if she knows about Bella? Did you ask Mary if she’d told her?’
‘No. And please don’t make me feel any more guilty than I already do. I thought I was doing the right thing, coming clean with Mary. You can’t help who you fall in love with, can you? I never meant to hurt Nancy, but our marriage was more stale than a month-old loaf of bread.’
‘I understand, boy, and you most certainly aren’t to blame. I reckon Nancy’s just in pieces over Adam and has gone to clear her head somewhere. She’s bound to come back before the funeral. Where are Daniel and Lee? Are they OK?’
‘I’ve said sod-all to the boys about Nancy yet. Daniel’s not been eating since Adam died, so I gave ’em some money to go to the Wimpy. They’ll go stir-crazy sitting in here. I’m gonna pop to the estate agent tomorrow. I can’t go on living in this house. Every time I look round, something reminds me of Adam.’
Albie lifted the curtain. ‘The Old Bill have just pulled up outside, boy.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! If it’s that ginger cunt who questioned me earlier, I swear, the mood I’m in, I’ll knock him out if he starts again.’
Albie grabbed his son’s arm. ‘Don’t rise to the bait. Keep your cool.’
Michael flung open the front door. There were two Old Bill and thankfully neither was the ginger prick from earlier. ‘You come to see me about Adam?’ he asked. One of the coppers had been present when he’d learned of his son’s death.
With a grim expression, it was the female who replied. ‘Is it possible for us to come inside, Mr Butler?’
Michael led them into the lounge.
‘I’m afraid I have some bad news, Mr Butler. Your wife’s car was found at the top of Beachy Head in Sussex in the early hours of this morning. The police and rescue teams are currently searching for Mrs Butler.’
Michael shook his head repeatedly. ‘Nah, nah, nah. That can’t be right. Nancy hated heights. I took her up Beachy Head once for a picnic and she was petrified.’
The male officer took a notepad out of his pocket and began scribbling away. ‘When did you take Mrs Butler to Beachy Head?’
‘Christ, it was a while back. Late seventies, I’d say. The boys came with us. I used to own a bungalow at Kings Holiday Park in Eastbourne and Beachy Head was only about ten or fifteen minutes’ drive away.’
‘Drink that, boy,’ Albie ordered, shoving a brandy in Michael’s hand. His son was as white as a sheet.
‘I can’t believe Nancy would drive up Beachy Head alone. She was a crap driver and uncomfortable behind a wheel. You sure it’s her car?’ Michael asked. To say he felt dazed was putting it mildly.
‘Mrs Butler’s car was found by the coastguard, Mr Butler. The doors were unlocked with her belongings inside, including her handbag, photographs and letters addressed to family members.’
‘Was there a letter for me?’ Michael mumbled.
‘Yes.’
‘Where is it?’
‘The letters will become the coroner’s property, for now at least. It’s up to the coroner to check the contents before the letters can be released to family members,’ the female officer explained.
‘Were you having any marital problems, Mr Butler? Only we’ve been informed that some of the photographs found were ripped in half and we believe these to be your wedding photographs. There was also a framed photo of a child we believe to be your son, Adam, found near the edge of the drop.’
Overwhelmed by memories, Michael put his unshaven face in his hands. Barking Fair, the Waltzer, Nancy’s lithe figure, her beauty and innocence back then, and her singing away to ‘Chirpy Chirpy Cheep Cheep’. He’d fallen in love with her that day and couldn’t believe she’d chosen to end her life. If she’d ripped up their wedding photos, she obviously knew about Bella, which meant he was to blame for her demise.
‘Do you want another brandy, boy?’ Albie asked, concerned.
Hand over mouth, Michael ran from the room vomiting.
Because of Adam’s death, Ahmed had given Little Vinny a week off. However, Little Vinny had left his new leather jacket at work with his
house keys in the pocket. Sammi-Lou kept moaning because every time he popped out he’d wake Oliver on his return, which was why Little Vinny suggested they have a romantic date up town today. They’d rarely been out alone since their son had been born and Sammi’s mum had offered to babysit for them.
‘Vinny! This is a pleasant surprise. I thought you were taking a week off. Couldn’t you keep away?’ asked Mario, the bar manager.
‘Left my jacket here and my keys are in the pocket. Meet my beautiful fiancée. Sammi-Lou, this is Mario.’
Sammi-Lou grinned. ‘Hello. Pleased to meet you.’
‘Where’s Ahmed?’ Little Vinny asked.
‘In the office with his cousin. It’s Burak’s birthday and I think they’re getting drunk – Ahmed asked not to be disturbed,’ Mario chuckled.
‘Well, I’ve gotta nip back there to get me jacket. Get us a drink, Mario. Sammi’ll have a Malibu and pineapple and I’ll have a Coke.’
As he walked out the back, Little Vinny could hear the laughter. It was raucous and he guessed they were probably on the gear. About to knock on the door, Little Vinny froze as he heard his father’s name mentioned. Had Burak really just said he couldn’t wait for his dad’s funeral, or had he heard wrong?
Ahmed was a loud man, especially when drunk and with cocaine inside him. When Little Vinny heard him say, ‘The funeral will be great fun. I might even suggest to Michael that me and you help carry Vinny’s coffin,’ his blood ran cold.
‘Have you forgotten there will be no trace of a body to carry, Ahmed? I cannot wait to see Vinny’s face when we play him the tape of his evil son confessing to murdering Molly. What a way to die, eh? Learning your only son throttled your beloved daughter before being tortured yourself. It really is the perfect murder.’
Ahmed roared with laughter. ‘Serves the cunt right for leaving me for dead. Rack up another line, Burak, and don’t forget, when we get to his club later we have to act normal.’
Little Vinny’s legs were trembling so much he had no idea how he crept away from that door.
‘Whatever’s wrong, Vin? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Sammi-Lou remarked.
‘What’s up, man? You OK?’ Mario asked, concerned.
How he held it together, Little Vinny would never know. ‘I just remembered where I left the keys now. Don’t tell Ahmed I was here, Mario. He’s gonna go mental if he finds out I’ve lost ’em. Got the bar keys on the same bunch.’
‘My lips are sealed,’ Mario promised.
Grabbing Sammi-Lou by the arm, Little Vinny all but dragged her from the bar.
‘Whatever’s wrong, Vin? Where’s your jacket?’ Sammi-Lou asked, her face full of concern as her boyfriend put his hand over his mouth and crouched in a nearby doorway.
Feeling as though he was about to have a heart attack, Little Vinny took deep breaths before standing up and desperately trying to compose himself. He took his wallet out of his pocket and handed Sammi-Lou a fifty-pound note. ‘I want you to jump in a black cab and go home, babe. I need to speak to my dad urgently.’
‘But why? I thought we were going for lunch. Please, tell me what’s wrong.’
Spotting an unoccupied black cab, Little Vinny stood at the kerb, frantically waving his arm. ‘I really need to see my dad, Sammi. Just go home and we’ll chat later.’
Queenie Butler was sitting in the garden, planning a eulogy in honour of Adam when the nutter next door started playing and singing along at the top of his voice to Johnny Cash’s ‘Ring of Fire’.
‘Queen, there’s a cat shitting in your garden,’ Vivian said, nudging her sister’s arm.
Chucking her pen and paper on the patio, Queenie leapt up. ‘Come on, let’s knock there. Had enough of the loonies now. Norman and Mummy Bates will be going head-first in a ring of fire if those cats crap in my garden any more.’
Vivian followed her sister and stood hands on hips as Queenie hammered on the nutters’ front door. It was Doll who answered.
‘Sorry to bother you, but I’m trying to write a eulogy for my dead grandson, so could you please tell your son to stop singing and turn his music down as it’s distracting me? Also, my sister and I are very proud of our lovely gardens, so could you teach your cats to shit in yours in future?’ Queenie asked, with a steely expression in her eyes. When it came to sarcasm, she was an expert.
Doll looked at Queenie in horror. ‘Norman! Norman! Come quickly,’ she yelled.
Norman arrived at the front door at the same time as a chap turned up to deliver a parcel on behalf of Freeman’s catalogue. ‘Good afternoon, ladies. Which one of you is Mrs Bates?’
‘I am,’ Doll replied.
Queenie and Vivian stared at one another in pure astonishment, before bursting into uncontrollable laughter. You just could not make that up.
In a pub not far from his father’s club, Little Vinny ordered his second pint of cider. He was still in complete and utter shock, but the alcohol had stopped him from shaking. He’d had no idea Ahmed had taped his confession, but now that he knew what a devious cunt his boss was, he was certain there would be more than one copy of the tape.
Little Vinny felt like crying. Now he was a father himself, he truly regretted killing Molly and could not believe he’d been capable of such a callous act. Since Ollie’s birth he was a changed person, and the thought of losing Sammi-Lou and his son for ever filled his heart with pain. He was bound to go to prison, unless his father decided to bump him off as payback.
Knowing it was make-or-break time, Little Vinny’s mind went into whirlwind mode. He needed to think of a plausible story and he needed to think of one fast.
Desperate to keep occupied while they waited for news, Mary Walker made Donald get the boxes out of the loft. Nancy had been a bit of a hoarder in her younger years, and had forbidden her mother to chuck anything away. ‘Look at all her Marc Bolan posters, Donald. She adored the ground that man walked on and used to get so annoyed with you when you called him a poof because he wore make-up and had long hair. Do you remember the time you told Roger to take her to Top of the Pops? T-Rex were top of the charts that week and she wouldn’t go because she didn’t want to be seen in public with Roger? She was headstrong even back then, wasn’t she?’ Mary said, bursting into tears again.
Donald sat on the bed and held his wife close to his chest. ‘You’re torturing yourself looking through these boxes, Mary. Let’s go downstairs and have a cup of tea. I rang Tina and all is fine at the café.’
‘What did Christopher say when he called?’
‘He just asked how things had gone with Maynard. I told him the whole conversation and he said he’ll pop round to see us after work.’
The doorbell made Mary jump and she ran to the window. ‘It’s the police, Donald.’
Reaching the bottom of the stairs in record time, Donald opened the front door. DC Maynard was accompanied by a colleague.
‘Have you found Nancy? Is she OK?’ Mary asked.
The officers invited themselves in. DC Maynard then urged Donald and Mary to sit down before breaking the tragic news.
‘Dear God, no! Not my Nancy. She wouldn’t do that. She loved us too much. Tell ’em Donald, tell ’em,’ Mary sobbed.
When DC Maynard explained that Nancy had left belongings, photographs and letters in the car, Mary began to wail hysterically.
‘Obviously, without a body, we have no firm proof that Nancy did end her own life, but it certainly looks that way. Grief does strange things to people. Makes them act irrationally. I am so very sorry.’
‘Should we travel to Beachy Head to help with the search?’ Donald asked, eyes brimming with tears.
‘I really think you’d be wasting your time. As awful as it sounds, the chances of finding Nancy alive if she did jump are very remote. I spoke to an officer dealing with the case earlier and he said the tide was high and the sea very choppy yesterday evening. It’s probable that Nancy was swept out to sea,’ Maynard’s colleague explained.
‘I cannot
believe Nancy would do such a thing without saying goodbye to me and her mother. You mentioned letters. Do you know if one was addressed to us?’
‘I guessed you’d probably ask that question, so I checked for you. There was a letter addressed to yourselves and one for Christopher. I’m sure if I kick some backsides, I can ensure the coroner hands them over as soon as possible.’
Hugging his distraught wife, Donald mumbled the words ‘Thank you.’
Vinny was in his office, catching up on some paperwork, when Jay Boy walked in. ‘Ahmed and Burak have just turned up asking for you. It’s Burak’s birthday by all accounts and they’re already tanked up.’
Snarling, Vinny mumbled the word ‘Cunts.’
‘You had a falling out with ’em?’
Apart from Michael and Eddie Mitchell, not a soul knew about the letter. Vinny wanted to meet the man who’d written it first to check out his story before telling any other bastard. Part of him still couldn’t believe that Ahmed would try to set him up. ‘Nah. I just need ’em drunk in ’ere at this time of the day like I need a hole in the head. Tell ’em I’ll be out in five.’
When Jay Boy left the office, Vinny poured himself a large Scotch. It was a good job his gun wasn’t kept here because it would be so tempting to use it. Saturday was going to be too early to rally his troops, so he’d have to defer the champagne deal. He’d blame Adam’s death and Nancy’s disappearance. Say he was helping Michael search for her. No way would Michael be up for helping him kill Ahmed and Burak until he’d got Adam’s funeral out the way.
Plastering a fake smile on his mush, Vinny bowled into the club.
‘Vinny, my friend,’ Ahmed grinned, giving his enemy a slap on the back.
‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ Vinny asked.
‘It’s Burak’s birthday. He’s thirty-five today. We’re going whoring later, so thought we’d pop in and whet our appetite by ogling your gorgeous girls first. We wanted to see you as well, of course,’ Ahmed chuckled.
Vinny shook Burak’s clammy hand. ‘Happy birthday, mate. Don’t forget it’s my fortieth soon. I haven’t arranged anything yet because of all the shit that’s been going on, but I’ll definitely sort something. Probably keep it low key, just close friends and family – which includes you two, of course.’
Kimberley Chambers 3-Book Butler Collection Page 123