Kitabı oku: «The Wronged: No parent should ever have to bury their child...», sayfa 6

CHAPTER EIGHT

The man breathed a sigh of relief as he laid eyes on Michael Butler. His boss would be pleased. At least this trip hadn’t been a complete waste of time, like the last.

Clicking away with the specialized spy camera, the man wondered what this task was all about. Usually his boss was very open about such matters, but this time his lips were well and truly sealed.

As Michael Butler sauntered down the street like he owned it, the man smirked. Whatever plans his boss had in store for the cocksure-looking Michael, they wouldn’t be pleasant, that was for sure.

Deborah Preston stared solemnly out of the car window. Just over a week had gone by since Johnny had told her he planned to visit Jamie in Feltham and she’d thought of little else since.

‘Cheer up. Jo is gonna think something’s wrong otherwise.’

Deciding to have one last attempt to make her husband change his mind, Deborah gave it her all. ‘If you loved me as much as you say you do, Johnny, no way would you be putting me through such heartache. I’ve not slept or eaten properly all week. I just don’t understand how you could even consider being in the same room as that animal. It doesn’t make sense to me. Won’t you feel the urge to stick a knife straight through his heart? Because I know I fucking well would.’

Realizing his wife was near to breaking point, Johnny parked up and took her in his arms. ‘I need to visit Jamie for my own peace of mind. See what he’s got to say for himself and watch him squirm. I owe it to Molly.’

Huffing and puffing, Albie Butler dragged another crate of mixers into the bar area.

‘Dad, you look like you’re gonna keel over. Sit down and I’ll get you a drink. The bar staff can finish that off.’

At sixty-four, the years of heavy drinking and chain-smoking had begun to take their toll and nobody was more surprised he was still alive than Albie himself. ‘No, boy. I like to earn my keep, you know I do.’

Not one to take no for an answer, Michael put an arm around his father’s shoulders and made him sit down.

Albie grinned when Michael plonked a pint in front of him. He enjoyed pottering about at the club doing odd jobs five days a week. It made him feel useful, something he’d never felt in all the years he’d been married to Queenie.

As a young man, Albie had been handsome, full of life and could have had his pick of women. Queenie had done all the chasing and, after a whirlwind romance, Albie married her. Life was good until Queenie fell pregnant. From the moment Vinny was born, things had gone from bad to worse. Vivian was always at their house, and Albie was pushed to one side. No wonder he’d ended up a drunken womanizer. Queenie had only ever wanted sex to make babies, and Albie had spent more nights sleeping on the sofa than in their marital bed.

‘What’s up, Dad? You having a Dorothy moment?’

Albie sighed wistfully. He’d found love with a woman in later life. Dorothy was a wonderful lady who’d restored his faith in the female of the species. They’d been so happy living in Ipswich at his brother Bert’s house, until she’d passed away suddenly. ‘Sort of, boy. I wish I’d have married Dorothy instead of your mother. Then we could have spent many more happy years together.’

Michael sat down next to his father. He knew exactly how Albie felt. His own romance, with a model called Bella, had been short-lived but truly unforgettable. Michael had ended it for the sake of his boys, but he had never forgotten the stunning brunette who’d stolen his heart. He’d even tried to find her once, but had been told by the new tenants that Bella had moved to New York. Nancy had no knowledge of the affair. The only people who did were his dad and Vinny.

Hating to see his old man down, Michael playfully punched him on the arm. ‘If you hadn’t married me mother, then I would’ve never existed. Thanks very much, Dad.’

Albie smiled. Unlike Vinny, who’d once beaten him up so badly he’d ended up in hospital with broken legs and ribs, Michael had been a wonderful son. ‘I’ll never forget how kind you’ve been to me, boy. But I do worry what will happen when your brother gets out. He ain’t gonna want me working here, is he?’

Michael gritted his teeth. He could foresee many problems on the horizon when Vinny got released, but was determined to stand his ground. ‘You leave Vinny to me. Your job will be safe, I can assure you of that. I ain’t Michael the kid brother any more. I am Michael the fucking adult and Vinny’s going to have to accept that.’

Vivian was sitting on a deck chair in Queenie’s back garden, reminiscing about the past. Kings Holiday Park in Eastbourne had been such a big part of their lives, until Vinny started a ruckus that got them barred from the clubhouse.

‘Do you remember that time you got pissed and tried to snog Des O’Connor, Viv? And you used to have the hots for that Mick who ran the amusement arcade.’

Vivian laughed. ‘Talk about pot calling kettle! You might come across all prim and proper, but I know you fancied Ray King. You used to act all silly every time he pulled up in his Rolls-Royce. And what about the time you embarrassed yourself outside the launderette?’

Queenie felt her cheeks blush. Ray King had been the owner of the holiday park, and even though she’d most definitely had the hots for him, she’d never admit it, not even to Viv. Hurriedly she changed the subject: ‘’Ere, look – it’s that thing that killed the bird I found earlier. Look at its eyes. They’re evil,’ she said, pointing at the ginger-and-white moggy who was sitting on the fence staring at her.

About to remark that the cat’s eyes reminded her of Vinny’s, Vivian bit her tongue. ‘It’s called Chester. I heard her next door calling it yesterday for its grub,’ she said. ‘I bumped into Nosy Hilda round the shops this morning and she filled me in on the set-up. That ain’t her old man living there, it’s her brother. The other tart is his wife. Them boys are hers though. Little sods they are, by all accounts. Hilda said they took the right piss out of Mr Arthur the other day ’cause he was wearing his war medals. And they’ve already been caught stealing off the market. Her name’s Shell. The boys are Kurt and Brad. I can’t remember the others’ names, although Hilda did tell me.’

‘Shell! What, as in a bleedin’ sea shell? That’s all we need, two little tea-leaves living next door. What’s the betting they try to burgle us while we’re up the Roman one Saturday?’

‘I think we should knock there, Queen. Let ’em know exactly who we are. They need to show a bit of respect. Their music system must be right next to my lounge wall. I couldn’t even hear me Brookside properly last night. They were playing that black man’s music again. I’m not putting up with that.’

‘It’s Bob Marley.’

‘Oh, is that her brother’s name? I could have sworn blind Hilda said it was something different.’

‘No. It’s Bob Marley records they keep playing, you daft bat.’

About to ask who the hell Bob Marley was, Vivian gasped as the cat leapt off the fence and grabbed a little robin by its throat. ‘Oh, my giddy aunt! Do something, Queen.’

Queenie picked up her hoe. She loved birds and welcomed them into her garden with the lovely bird table that she hung food from on a daily basis. ‘Get away, you ginger-and-white bastard,’ she screamed.

As the hoe came towards him, Chester fled without his prey. Queenie bent down and saw the terrified bird take its last breath. ‘We won’t be lowering ourselves by knocking there, Viv. I need a brandy to calm my nerves, then we’ll ring Michael. He can do the honours. I must bury this bird first though. Poor little mite.’

Ahmed and Burak were on their way to the Butlers’ club. Sunday lunchtimes were when the strippers performed and Ahmed liked to pop in at least twice a month as he knew Michael did not like him.

‘Any more news on the kid?’ Burak asked.

‘I rang the private detective yesterday, but it went on to answerphone. If he does not get back to me in the next day or two, I will sack him and hire the guy that Tarkan recommended.’

‘Please say if you think I am speaking out of turn, Ahmed, but I am bemused why Tarkan suddenly wants to be your best buddy. He’s had no dealings with Vinny, so has no reason to hate him like we do. I find it slightly suspicious that he has found what is supposedly Vinny’s daughter, yet could not find that prick Carl Thompson when he turned out to be such a fucking liability to us.’

‘What are you trying to say? That Tarkan warned Thompson that I was trying to kill him? No way, Burak. I have known Tarkan for years and he wouldn’t dare cross me. Us Turks stick together.’

‘Tarkan’s half English,’ Burak reminded his cousin. ‘So, what is the point of our visit today? To wind that flash wanker Michael up again?’

‘No. Little Vinny rang me twice in the week. He seems extremely upset that his father’s cellmate will soon be working at the club, and I think he’s fallen out with his girlfriend as well. This is the perfect opportunity for us to entice him into our clutches again. Then on a drunken night out, I shall accidentally drop the bombshell that his daddy killed his mummy.’

Burak chuckled. He could never understand why his cousin hadn’t just killed Vinny off years ago instead of waiting to have his revenge. But Ahmed was a complex character at times, and loved nothing more than fucking people up mentally.

As Ahmed laughed and joked, he had no idea that his cousin had been spot on in his estimation of Tarkan Smith. He was not the loyal friend Ahmed thought he was at all.

Ye Olde White Harte in Burnham-on-Crouch overlooked the quay where the boats and yachts were moored. The late-July weather was glorious and Johnny was thankful that not only had his wife cheered up, his daughter seemed on top form as well.

‘Why you not eating your dinner, Ava?’ Johnny asked, stroking his granddaughter’s dark glossy hair.

Ava protruded her bottom lip as she often did when bored. ‘Don’t want it. Can I go and play?’ she asked, pointing at two children who were skipping nearby.

Joanna looked around. Ava was a very bright child for her age. Her elocution was good and she often asked unusually intelligent questions for a child so young. She could even tell the time, and recite the alphabet in twenty seconds flat. ‘Is it OK if my little girl plays with your children?’ Joanna asked the couple on the table behind.

When they agreed and Ava left the table, Joanna turned to her parents. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’

Deborah grinned. She knew what was coming. Her daughter looked radiant. ‘You’ve met a new man, haven’t you?’

‘It’s early days, Mum, but he seems very nice. He’s totally different to Vinny.’

Johnny was not so delighted by the news. ‘Who is he? Where did ya meet him?’

‘I met him when I went out with Nancy last weekend. His name’s Darren, and he’s divorced with a four-year-old son. We’ve not been out on a proper date yet, but we’ve spoken on the phone a lot and I met him for a coffee yesterday. I aim to take things slowly, of course, but Darren does seem really genuine.’

‘You’re hardly a good judge of character when it comes to geezers, are you, Jo? Look at the last one you fell for,’ Johnny pointed out.

Annoyed that, having lectured her earlier about the need to lighten up, her husband now had a face on him like a smacked arse, Deborah ordered him to go to the bar to get some more drinks. ‘So what does Darren do for a living, love?’ she asked the moment he was gone.

‘He’s an estate agent, Mum, in Chelmsford. I never thought I would allow another man into my life, but we’ve spoken for hours every night on the phone this week and Darren’s really nice. It gives me something to look forward to when Ava goes to bed. He makes me laugh and he seems a loving dad. I’m a bit nervous about going out with him alone, so do you think it would be a good idea to take the kids with us? Darren suggested we take them to Colchester Zoo next weekend.’

Johnny chuckled as he plonked the drinks on the table. He’d overheard the back-end of the conversation. ‘You’re so gullible. How do you know that Vinny hasn’t tracked you down because he found out about Ava, eh? Darren could be working for him for all you know.’

Seeing her daughter’s happy mood suddenly deflated, Deborah was livid. ‘What the hell is wrong with you, Johnny? If anybody deserves to find happiness, it’s our Jo. Do us a favour and go for a walk, will you? Ava wants an ice cream, so you can take her with you.’

Johnny grabbed Ava’s hand. Perhaps he was a bit over-protective now. But he had every right to be after the Vinny debacle. Like any decent father, all Johnny wanted was the best in life for his daughter.

‘Granddad, pick me up. I don’t want to walk.’

Grinning at his cheeky granddaughter, Johnny did as she asked. What Johnny did not realize, as he held Ava above his head until she squealed, was that the private detective Ahmed had hired was snapping away behind him with his camera.

‘It’s hot and noisy in here. Let’s go outside and have a chat,’ Ahmed said, putting an arm around Little Vinny’s shoulders. Burak was enjoying himself watching the strippers and Ahmed knew there was far more chance of the boy opening up to him if they spoke alone.

Eyes like a hawk, Michael followed his nephew. Approximately eighteen months ago, Little Vinny had gone off the rails for a while. He’d taken days off sick, looked like shit when he had turned up, and Michael was sure by his eyes he’d taken some kind of drug. Ahmed had been hanging around a lot at the time and even though Little Vinny had sworn blind that he’d not been spending time with Ahmed outside the club, Michael wasn’t so sure. ‘Where yous two going?’ he asked, grabbing his nephew by the arm.

‘Outside to cool down a bit. You really need to invest in some more of them fans that hang from the ceiling, Michael. It’s like a sweatbox in here,’ said Ahmed.

When Michael walked away looking none too happy, Ahmed smirked. Once outside in the fresh air, he began to sow his seed. ‘What’s all this about your father’s cellmate starting work here then, Vin? You sounded well pissed off on the phone.’

Little Vinny explained the situation.

‘Well, I can’t say I blame you for having the hump. I bloody would too. There is a very close bond between your dad and Jay. Whenever I visit your old man or he writes to me, he is always praising the lad. I think your dad sees him as a second son. He must have big plans for him if he wants him to work at the club though.’

Feeling extremely agitated, Little Vinny glared at Ahmed. ‘Whaddya mean, big plans? Has my old man said something to you? Only I’m the one that’s made a success of this club with Michael. He said it was taking peanuts when my fucking father was in charge.’

Ahmed put a comforting arm around Little Vinny’s shoulders. ‘No. Your dad has said nothing about his plans for Jay to me. I shall be going to visit Vinny soon, so will have a quiet word to see what I can find out. That’s just between us though.’

‘Of course. Cheers, Ahmed. I’ve worked my bollocks off for the sake of this business and if my old man gets out and puts that cunt Jay above me in the pecking order, I will tell him to shove his job where the sun doesn’t shine.’

‘When is Jay due to arrive?’

‘Soon. He got released from nick a few days after his brother died and travelled up to Liverpool. I think the funeral was on Friday, so I dare say he’ll turn up this coming week.’

‘I’m always on the end of the phone if you need me. What I reckon you would benefit from is a bloody good night out. How about we go up West in the week? Burak and I have found this great club. Everybody shags one another. You get some proper wild women in there, let me tell you,’ Ahmed chuckled.

Little Vinny shook his head. ‘I can’t be going places like that now I’m with Sammi-Lou. She’d kill me if she ever found out.’

‘How’s it going with Sammi? From what you said the other day, I got the impression the two of you had had a falling out.’

Ever since the blow-job moment, things had been strained between himself and his girlfriend, and Little Vinny knew she had the hump with him as she’d spent the weekend in Clacton at her friend’s parents’ caravan. ‘It’s going OK. She’s a bit full on at times, but I do love her, I think.’

Ahmed laughed. ‘You’re only eighteen. Far too young to know what true love is. You should be playing the field. You need to have many girlfriends to find the one. Then when you do, you marry her.’

Little Vinny respected Ahmed, but no way was he taking relationship advice from him. Ahmed had married an English lady called Anna who he had two children with. He was rarely at home though and fucked anything that breathed. ‘You know you just mentioned a night out. Well, it’s Sammi-Lou’s mum’s fortieth next Saturday. Her dad’s got a massive gaff in Essex and they’re having a big party. Sammi told me to invite all my family, but Michael said he can’t leave the club and my nan and Auntie Viv won’t go. Will you come with me? I’ve only met Sammi’s parents briefly a couple of times, and her old man makes me feel a right div, to be honest – and I won’t know any bastard there.’

Ahmed grinned. This party would be the perfect opportunity to get Little Vinny back on the booze and into his clutches. ‘I would be honoured to accompany you, my friend.’

Queenie Butler was that fuming, she slammed the phone down on her youngest son. That was the difference between her Vinny and Michael. Instead of laughing at her like Michael just had, Vinny would’ve been round like a shot.

‘Well?’ Vivian asked.

‘He told us to knock there ourselves. He said, “That’ll be the day I get into an argument ’cause a cat killed a bird.” He reckons it’s nature.’

‘Why didn’t you tell him about the bloody music, Queen? I can hear it through the wall now. They’re playing it again.’

‘Let’s have another brandy, then we’ll knock there. Talk about if you want anything done, do it your bleedin’ self. Eight bastard hours I was in labour with my Michael, and what thanks do I get, eh? None.’

Singing along to ‘Three Little Birds’, Shell Baker put the paintbrush down and cracked open a can of lager. She’d been arsehole lucky to get this house after her sons Kurt and Bradley had got her evicted from their previous property in East Ham. Thankfully for Shell, her mate Dawn worked for Tower Hamlets council and had managed to pull a few strings.

Family and friends meant everything to Shell, which was why she’d invited her brother Karl and his wife Melissa to move in with her. They’d been living in a poxy old bedsit that was full of mould and damp, and stood far more chance of getting their own place via Tower Hamlets council than Newham.

When somebody started ferociously hammering on her door, Shell’s first thought was that it was the Old Bill again. Then she reminded herself that Kurt and Brad were currently upstairs painting their bedroom, so couldn’t have got in any more trouble since yesterday.

She opened the door to find her new neighbour on her doorstep, lips pursed and hands on hips, glaring daggers at her.

‘That ginger and white thing belong to you?’

‘If you’re talking about a cat, yeah, that’s my Chester.’

‘Best you stop your Chester coming into my garden and killing my birds then. Murdered one right in front of us this morning, didn’t he, Viv?’

‘Yeah. Poor little robin was terrified,’ Vivian added.

Shell looked at the two women like they’d just arrived from another planet. ‘You are joking, right?’

‘Do I look like I’m bastard-well joking? I spend a fortune every week on seeds and nuts for them birds. Breaks my heart to see them getting ripped to pieces.’

Shell burst out laughing. ‘Karl, Mel, you gotta come and listen to this,’ she shouted. Her brother and sister-in-law were in the lounge.

‘Not going to hear you over that racket, are they? And that’s another thing we wanted to talk to you about. If you think we’re putting up with that shit blaring through our walls, you’ve got another think coming. Do you know who we are?’ Vivian asked indignantly.

Holding her crotch because she was chuckling so much she was afraid she might wet herself, Shell burst into the lounge and gestured for Karl and Mel to follow her into the hallway.

Queenie and Vivian were appalled. They weren’t accustomed to being laughed at. People were usually too scared to say a bad word to them, let alone take the piss.

‘Meet our neighbours,’ Shell guffawed. ‘They’ve asked me to tell Chester not to go in their garden and kill the birds. Now do you want to tell him, or shall I, Karl? I think there’s more chance of Chester listening to you. He understands you better than me.’

When the brother and sister-in-law also burst out laughing, a red-faced Queenie started to wag her forefinger. ‘You’ll be laughing on the other side of your faces once my family gets to hear about this, let me tell you.’

Hearing the commotion, Kurt and Bradley appeared. ‘Shut up, you mad old bat,’ Kurt told Queenie.

‘My grandson will deal with you, you little shit. As for the rest of yous, watch your backs. I am Queenie Butler. Mother of the Vinny and Michael Butler who run this fucking area.’

Still laughing, Shell replied, ‘And we’re the Bakers. Nice to meet you. Now piss off!’

When the door was slammed in her face, Queenie felt faint. ‘Hold me arm, Viv. Get me back indoors. I need another brandy.’

Feeling satisfied with his day’s work, the man dialled the all-important number.

‘Well?’

‘Found him boss. I took plenty of photos that are already on their way to you. I have an address of a house where I believe his wife and sons live. Do you want photos of them too?’

The boss slammed the paperweight against his mahogany desk. ‘Did you not understand my orders? I want photos of every fucking thing Michael Butler has contact with. Even his cunting pet dog.’

The man apologized and ended the call. If he were a betting man, he’d put his house on Michael Butler being dead this time next week.