Christopher Walker behind the blacked-out window at the identification parade, and Vinny had thought it fucking hilarious that the kid had picked out bloke number four rather than him. Vinny had sensibly kept well away from the café, and hadn’t seen Christopher since.
‘Wait and see what info Geary has got for us. If he tells you Jack shit again, just give him fifty on top as a Christmas drink. If he has found out where the Prestons are though, you’d better give one an’ half at least,’ Roy advised.
Vinny nodded. It had been just over a week since Roy had paid Judy Preston a visit to check if she’d had the abortion. There had been no answer, then a neighbour had come out to inform him that Judy had moved out ten days earlier. Vinny had been absolutely furious and, unable to get involved himself just in case Geary had got it wrong and he was being followed, he had sent Michael to visit his arsehole of a father in hospital just to find out where Judy’s mother lived. He had then sent Roy round there only to find out that Mummy had done a runner too. So, Vinny had asked Geary if he could find out their whereabouts. He had also heard through the grapevine from a couple of his South London punters that Johnny Preston had disappeared off the face of the bloody earth, so Vinny wanted Geary to check out that story as well. Seeing as Johnny had run and left his best pal to die in a pool of blood like the coward he was, Vinny was sure that he wouldn’t go mouthing off about the murder. Geary hadn’t yet put two and two together, Vinny was sure of that. If he had, the Chief Inspector would have been on his case for more money like he usually was when he had something on him, and even if he did see the light, Vinny had his answer ready for him.
Roy jumped as the doorbell rang. ‘Who the fuck’s that this time of the morning?’
‘It might be Mum, so answer it, Roy.’
Roy did the honours, then ran back up the stairs. ‘It’s that Karen bird that used to work here. She wants to see you and says it’s urgent.’
Vinny sighed. Karen was the stripper he had slept with a couple of times. She had become a bit obsessed with him after their last night of passion, and had spouted her mouth off to all the other strippers, so Vinny had promptly sacked her. ‘Tell her I ain’t here,’ Vinny ordered his brother.
‘I’ve already told her you are here. I ain’t going back down there, Vin. You shagged her, so she’s your problem,’ Roy chuckled.
With only a towel around his waist to cover his nakedness, Vinny ran down the stairs and flung open the big metal door. ‘If you’ve come to ask for your job back, the answer is no. I told you what would happen if you started blabbing about what had happened between us, didn’t I?’
Ignoring the callous tone in Vinny’s voice, Karen brushed past him and stepped inside the club.
‘What do you think you’re fucking doing?’ Vinny spat.
Karen looked Vinny in the eyes and smirked. ‘I’m having a chat with the father of my unborn baby.’
‘You what?’
‘You heard. I’m pregnant, and it’s yours. Congratulations, Vinny.’
Absolutely starving after driving up to Carnaby Street and back, Michael and Kevin bumped their mopeds onto the pavement and parked them outside Mary and Donald’s café.
‘Wow, this looks well ace compared to when Old Jack had it. You never told me they had a jukebox,’ Kevin said, highly impressed.
‘I ain’t been in here since it re-opened, but my mum has and she said the food’s really nice,’ Michael informed his pal.
Unaware that Michael was a Butler, Mary took his and Kevin’s order. ‘Two cheeseburgers and chips, love,’ she said to Donald.
‘How are the kids? Have you checked on them again?’ Donald asked, putting the burgers into the frying pan.
‘Nancy’s OK, still absorbed in her Enid Blyton book, but Christopher is in bed, Donald. He didn’t eat any lunch again either, and he’s started to worry the bloody life out of me.’
Donald turned away from the cooker and hugged his wife to his chest. Ever since the two incidents involving the Butler family, both of their children had changed dramatically. Nancy was still friendly with Brenda at school, but even though she seemed happy enough in herself, all she ever seemed to want to do these days was lose herself in books.
Christopher, on the other hand, was not happy in himself. He had lost a hell of a lot of weight in the past couple of weeks, looked pale, was extremely withdrawn, and it was an effort to get him to school in the mornings. Christopher had always been an adventurous boy who loved the outdoors, but not any more. Whatever he had seen outside that club, and the interrogation by the police afterwards, had obviously knocked the stuffing out of the poor child.
‘I think perhaps in the new year we should consider selling this café and moving to a different area, Mary. It’s too dangerous around here to bring up our children. There are far too many unsavoury characters.’
Mary looked at her husband in horror. Their business was barely a month old, but it was booming, and she had settled well in East London. ‘Don’t be daft, Donald. I’ll speak to Christopher, he’ll be fine. As for Nancy, I’m glad she’s got into her books rather than raking the streets. You wait until tomorrow when they open all their nice presents. We have never been able to afford to give them much before, have we? Once Santa has been, they’ll perk up no end. You mark my words.’
Not sharing his wife’s optimism, Donald turned around to flip his burgers.
Because of recent events, George Geary didn’t want to pick up his monthly bung from the club any longer. He was too frightened of being spotted there, so insisted that Vinny meet him at the entrance of a park a few miles away.
Vinny sat in the chief inspector’s car and listened to what he had to say, while nodding politely. Geary had a habit of trying to dress things up to make it look like he had found out lots more information than he had, so he could suck more money out of his victim. ‘So, what you’re trying to say, George, is you have no idea where any of the Prestons are? Including Johnny, right?’
‘Well yes, but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t got a few leads on the go,’ Geary said, licking his lips in anticipation of what sort of Christmas bonus he might be getting.
‘And what about that poor bloke who was murdered? Does your mob still think I had something to do with it? Just because it happened near my club?’
‘Well, I would be lying if I said they didn’t still see you as a suspect, Vinny, but to be honest they are concentrating more at the moment on finding the bloke who was with Dave Phillips at the time of the attack.’
‘Perhaps yous boys in blue have been barking up the wrong tree all along then, George? Don’t you think it’s strange that whoever was with the deceased did a runner? Perhaps that’s your murderer?’ Vinny suggested, handing over a wad of notes.
When Geary began counting the money, Vinny smirked. ‘There’s a fifty on top of your usual as a Christmas drink, George. You find out where those Prestons are for me and there’ll be an even bigger drink in it for you.’
George Geary was not amused. He had put his neck on the line sniffing around for snippets of information to throw Vinny’s way, yet all he was being given for his trouble was a measly fifty quid. He wasn’t stupid. He had spoken to a few of his colleagues over in South London.
