Vinny sauntered in a couple of minutes later. ‘What’s up with you?’
‘Graeme Bradley, that’s what. He was murdered last night. A single stab wound to the heart, apparently. But, you already knew that, didn’t you, Vin? Because it was you who organized his death, wasn’t it?’
Johnny Preston had got a fifteen stretch for what he had done to Roy. Both attempted murder and firearms charges had stood up in court, and it was during the case that Vinny had discovered that Johnny had been living with Graeme Bradley at the time.
Vinny shook his head. ‘Fuck all to do with me, bruv, and also the first I’ve heard of it. Where was Bradley murdered?’
‘Oh, don’t play the innocent with me, Vin. I know the way you tick, I’m your brother. Who did you get to kill him? Was it the same person who you got to murder Karen? Or Terry Smart? Or Kenny Jackson? Please don’t take me for a fool, because I am anything but,’ Michael shouted.
Vinny was furious. He might have been responsible for those deaths, but not only had he never admitted to his involvement in Karen’s, he certainly knew nothing about Graeme Bradley’s. Rather than punching Michael, which was tempting, Vinny picked up a chair and threw it across the room. ‘Don’t be acting like Billy Big Balls with me, Michael, ’cause you’ll be the loser. I swear on Little Vinny’s life and Mum’s that I had fuck all to do with Graeme Bradley’s murder. I didn’t even know about it until you just told me.’
Michael knew how superstitious Vinny was about swearing on people’s lives. He also knew that their mum and Little Vinny were probably the only two people Vinny really cared about, apart from himself. Deciding to call a quick truce, Michael held out his right hand. ‘I’m sorry, my mistake.’
Vinny shook his brother’s hand and grinned. ‘I’m glad Bradley is dead though. Whoever killed the cunt deserves a medal.’
Queenie Butler sat down opposite her son and handed him a carrier bag. Not once had she ever come to visit Roy empty-handed. She always bought him a treat. ‘There’s two of them chocolate éclairs you like, Roy. Why don’t you eat them now? I’m worried the cream might go off in this heat.’
‘Not hungry,’ Roy replied.
‘So, why aren’t you dressed and sitting in the lounge with the other patients? Playing games in there, they are,’ Queenie informed her son.
‘Didn’t want to get dressed today. I wanted to be alone.’
Realizing that Roy seemed even more depressed than usual, Queenie changed the subject. ‘So, did Brenda and Dean visit you yesterday?’
‘Yeah. They came to see me yesterday afternoon. That daughter of theirs is one spoilt brat,’ Roy said, in his usual slow drawl.
Queenie nodded, not particularly in agreement, but she did know what Roy meant. Brenda and Dean had got married three years ago, and Dean now worked at the club for Vinny and Michael. Tara was four years old and was a demanding child to say the least. She had been far too spoilt by Brenda especially, and Tara knew if she wanted something, a tantrum would make damn sure she got it. ‘So, did Tara play up then?’ Queenie asked.
‘Yes. Has Vinny found me a place near the seaside yet, Mum? I really do not like it here.’
‘If you live near the seaside, boy, I’m not going to be able to visit you much. Neither will the rest of the family, will they?’
Roy’s eyes suddenly welled up with tears. ‘I do not like having visitors. I will be happier near the sea where nobody knows me.’
Queenie’s eyes filled with tears also. ‘But, I love you, boy, and I will really miss you if you move miles away.’
Roy grasped his mother’s hand. ‘And I love you too, Mum, but I need a fresh start away from everybody and everything to try and find myself again. You do understand, don’t you?’
Filled with sadness, Queenie nodded her head. She understood perfectly.
Brenda and Dean Smart lived in a two-bedroomed council house a few streets away from Queenie’s. Since giving birth to Tara, Brenda had gained a few stone in weight. Instead of walking about in hotpants as she once had, she now tried to hide her bulging stomach and bottom by wearing long baggy tops. Brenda was very paranoid about her weight gain, so much so, it had put a strain on her relationship with her husband. She was forever accusing Dean of having affairs and chasing after other women, even though she had no proof. This erratic behaviour caused nothing but endless rows, and even though her mother had warned her to sort herself out, or risk losing Dean, Brenda couldn’t help flying into rages of jealousy. Nancy was her biggest bugbear. Pretty, slim, wonderful fucking Nancy who everybody seemed to adore, including her Dean.
Hearing the front door slam, Brenda dashed down the stairs. Dean had taken Tara out this morning and had told her he wouldn’t be long, but they had been gone for over three hours. ‘Where you been? You said you wouldn’t be long.’ Brenda’s voice was full of suspicion.
‘I popped in to see my nan. It would have been my dad’s forty-fifth birthday today, and I thought seeing Tara might cheer her up,’ Dean explained. It was coming up to five years since his father had disappeared, and Dean always now referred to him as dead. Terry Smart had never been seen after leaving the Grave Maurice that fateful Sunday evening, and the police had been just as baffled by his disappearance as Dean. Freda Smart still insisted to this day that her son had been murdered by Vinny Butler, but seeing as he was married to Brenda, Dean had no option other than to think of his brother-in-law as innocent.
‘Tara, pop next door and see Melissa. She knocked for you earlier,’ Brenda instructed her daughter. Since Dean had started working nights at the club, their sex life had become almost non-existent and, desperate to add to their family so that Dean could never leave her, Brenda was using every available opportunity that arose to get her husband to make love to her.
Dean felt like a lamb being led into a slaughterhouse, as he allowed Brenda to drag him up the stairs by his hand. The only way he could even get an erection with her these days was by shutting his eyes and thinking of his brother-in-law’s wife.
Nancy was beautiful inside and out, and even though Dean knew that she was besotted with Michael, and nothing would ever happen between them, he couldn’t help his feelings for the girl who made his heart leap every time he saw her.
‘Hurry up then, Dean, in case Tara comes back,’ Brenda ordered, as she took her knickers off and flung them on the carpet.
Trying not to look at his wife’s fat naked body, or her miserable face, Dean got undressed, climbed on top of Brenda, closed his eyes, and pictured Nancy.
‘Oi, what do you think you are doing?’ Queenie yelled, as she saw a puff of smoke drift out of her nine-year-old grandson’s mouth.
Little Vinny, who lived with her permanently now, was sitting on her doorstep with his best mate, Ben Bloggs. He expertly trod on his cigarette and kicked it into a nearby bush. ‘Nothing, Nan. Me and Ben are just talking,’ he replied innocently.
‘I ain’t just got off the banana boat, you know. I saw you puffing away, boy, so don’t bastard-well lie to me. How long you been smoking, eh?’
Little Vinny stood up and stared at his feet. ‘Sorry, Nan. Me and Ben found a couple of fags in a packet and decided to smoke ’em as we had never tried one before, had we, Ben?’ he said, nudging his pal.
Queenie didn’t particularly like Ben Bloggs. His gran Ivy was well-known for her pilfering, his mother Alison for being a prostitute, and Queenie couldn’t help but feel that coming from such a notorious family, Ben could only prove to be a bad influence on her grandson.
‘Everyone’s inside, Nan. Lenny had a great birthday. He met a man with green hair and a safety pin through his nose. He had a photo taken with him and Uncle Michael said he is called a punk,’ Little Vinny said.
Queenie gave her grandson the evil eye. Little Vinny resembled his father at the same age so much that Queenie found it quite uncanny. It wasn’t just his looks. He had the same streetwise personality as his dad, and possessed his charm as well. Ordering Ben Bloggs to sod off home, Queenie clipped Little Vinny around the ear. ‘Get upstairs to your bedroom and stay there. I had enough of your antics yesterday.’ Queenie had been terribly embarrassed when Big Stan had knocked on her front door late last night to inform her he had caught her grandson and Ben Bloggs thieving items from the shed in his back garden.
‘You won’t grass me up to Dad about anything, will you, Nan?’ Little Vinny asked. ‘I swear I’ll be a good boy from now on.’
Queenie knew her son would go absolutely apeshit if he knew Little Vinny had broken into the shed. Like herself, Vinny was a big believer of the rule, you never thieve off your own. It was unwritten tradition in their neck of the woods.
‘I’ll say nothing, boy, but if you play me up one more time, I’m gonna tell your father everything, understand me? This is the last time I save your bacon and I mean it.’
When Little Vinny strolled into the house behind his grandmother, he couldn’t help but smirk. Most of Whitechapel was frightened of Queenie Butler, but he wasn’t. He had his nan right in the palm of his frightfully intelligent hand.
Vinny Butler booked two big tables at Nick’s restaurant for his son and Lenny’s joint birthday celebrations.
Nick had once been the manager of the steakhouse in Canning Town where Vinny had taken Karen on the evening she was murdered, but he now ran his own restaurant in Stratford thanks to Vinny and Ahmed’s generosity. They had provided the money to enable Nick to open, and in return demanded a fifty per cent stake in the gaff.
Nick greeted his business partners with open arms, then politely shook hands with Lenny and Little Vinny.
‘Anyone else here yet?’ Vinny asked. His mum and aunt had gone to visit Roy first and were making their own way to the restaurant. Michael, Nancy, Brenda and Dean were coming with their kids, and Vinny had also invited Karen’s mum Maureen and her sister Rose.
Vinny was on reasonably good terms with Maureen now. She had never truly believed that he’d had anything to do with Karen’s death and once she had severed contact with Karen’s nosy next-door neighbour, she had been as good as gold towards him. Karen had apparently had quite a bad drug problem as a teenager, and it suited Vinny no end to learn that Maureen believed Karen’s demons had resurfaced. That left him in the clear.
In the past year, Maureen and Rose had sold their respective properties and now shared a house in Hornchurch, Essex. They saw Little Vinny at least twice a month, which was OK with Vinny.
‘Go and give your nan and Auntie Rose a kiss,’ Vinny ordered his son. Michael and Nancy were also at the table, so after greeting Daniel and Adam, Vinny shook hands with his brother and nodded politely at Nancy. He didn’t like Michael’s wife at all. Nancy gave him the distinct impression that she looked down on him, and that riled Vinny no end.
Within the next twenty minutes all the family arrived and the birthday celebrations got underway with Lenny insisting that ‘Happy Birthday’ was sung to him first. ‘It was my birthday before Little Vinny’s,’ he reminded everybody.
Watching Maureen and Rose both fawn over his son, Vinny smirked at Ahmed. Apart from the pest of a neighbour spouting all kinds of accusations, the police had never had anything on him for Karen’s murder. They had classed it as a drug overdose, and now he had Karen’s mum and aunt on side, it had shut up all the gossip-mongers too. What type of man would top the mother of his child, then befriend the mum and aunt? An innocent one, that’s who.
As the jovial atmosphere continued around the table, Brenda clocked Dean and Nancy share a smile and felt her stomach tie in knots as usual. When a conversation began between the two of them, Brenda dashed away from the table and outside the restaurant.
‘Where’s Mummy gone, Dad?’ Tara asked Dean.
When his brother-in-law stood up, Michael ordered him to sit back down. ‘I’ll deal with this,’ he said.
Queenie raised her eyebrows at Vivian.
‘What happened?’ Vivian whispered in her sister’s ear.
‘I think Bren got the hump because Dean spoke to Nancy. She’ll drive that boy away one day, if she ain’t careful, Vivvy. If I’ve told her once, I’ve told her a hundred times to rein her jealousy in. Only she can lose that weight and make herself feel better. She ain’t gonna do that while she’s stuffing packets of biscuits down her gullet like they’re going out of style, is she?’
‘She is turning into a big old heifer, ain’t she?’ Vivian replied bluntly.
‘Got an arse like a fucking elephant,’ Queenie added.
Seeing that both Nancy and Dean felt totally embarrassed, Queenie decided to clear the air. ‘Yous two carry on talking. Take no notice of Nutty Nora. You are both part of this family and have every right to get on well.’
‘Who’s Nutty Nora, Dad?’ Tara asked innocently.
Dean kissed his daughter on the forehead. ‘Nobody you know, darling.’
Michael lit up a cigarette and handed his sister one. ‘What’s up with you?’
‘Just wanted some fresh air. Not a crime, is it?’ Brenda replied, arrogantly.
‘You’ve got to get off Nancy’s case, and Dean’s, Bren. They are only friends for fuck’s sake, and if it don’t bother me, why should it bother you?’
‘Dunno what you’re on about, Michael. I haven’t got the hump with Dean or Nancy. Why would I have? Haven’t done anything wrong, have they?’ Brenda spat.
‘Look, sis, tell me to mind my own business if you want, but if I were you, I would plaster a smile on your face, get your arse back inside that restaurant, and try to be jovial. We don’t go out that often, not all together, and I think our family have had enough dramas to last us a lifetime over the years, don’t you?’
Brenda nodded, took a deep breath to try and calm herself down, then, knowing she had little choice, put on a fake smile, and followed Michael back inside the restaurant.
Roy picked up his address book and flicked through the pages until he reached the letter P. He was sweating like a pig today, but knew that was more to do with nerves than the freak summer England was experiencing.
It had taken Roy a lot of courage and thought to come to the decision he had, but now he had made his mind up there was no going back. Vinny had ruined his life, therefore retribution was the only answer.