Queens of Crime: 3-Book Thriller Collection. Kimberley Chambers

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СКАЧАТЬ 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.

      When Vinny tried to shake his hand, George snatched it away. ‘Don’t take me for a fool, Butler. Fifty sovs! Is that it? Do you not think I know that Dave Phillips and Johnny Preston were partners in crime, eh? What do you take me for?’

      Vinny chuckled. ‘A bent chief inspector.’

      ‘Don’t fuck with me, Vinny, because I can have you banged-up for murder at the drop of a hat,’ George said, pointing a fat finger in Vinny’s face.

      Realizing that his joke had been a bad one, Vinny apologized immediately. He also dug his hand back into his pocket and handed Geary another hundred pounds. ‘Look, I don’t want to fall out with you, George, but I swear I know nothing about the murder of Dave Phillips, OK?’

      ‘So, why do you want me to find Johnny Preston then?’

      Vinny sighed, put on the most innocent expression he could muster, and stared George Geary straight in the eyes. ‘Because my father has impregnated Preston’s sister, Judy, and she has done a fucking runner. Would you not want to know where your future brother or sister would be living?’

      Geary put the hundred pounds in his pocket, then held his right hand out to Vinny. ‘I’m sorry, boy. I’ll do my best to find them for you, OK? I’d best go now before my wife wonders where I’ve got to. Merry Christmas.’

      Vinny got out of the chief inspector’s car and walked back to his own. Karen’s bombshell earlier had left him in a bit of a daze, and he really didn’t know if he was coming or bloody going.

      Thrilled that the jukebox had some songs on it by their favourite band, The Who, Michael and Kevin put on ‘I Can’t Explain’, ‘Anyway, Anyhow, Anywhere’, and ‘My Generation’.

      ‘Excuse me. Do you think you can turn it up a bit?’ Michael asked Mary.

      ‘I’ll turn it up a touch, but I can’t have it too loud because it’s not fair on the other customers,’ Mary replied, walking over to the jukebox.

      ‘Bleedin’ racket is giving me a headache. Don’t be turning it up no louder just because the murderer’s brother has asked you to,’ Mad Freda shouted out.

      ‘Who you calling a murderer? Michael’s brothers are good lads,’ Kevin said, sticking up for his best pal.

      ‘Who rattled your cage? You little black bastard,’ Freda spat back.

      Michael grabbed Kevin by the sleeve of his parka. ‘Come on, mate, let’s go. Everyone knows that Freda is off her head, so there’s no point arguing with a bigoted nutjob. It’s like talking to a brick wall.’

      Albie Butler was not in the best of moods. The doctors had told him he could be discharged before Christmas if he had somebody who could care for him until the plaster was taken off his legs. Trouble was, he couldn’t find anyone who could do so. Even his own brother had refused his pleas for help. Bert had made the excuse that his wife was ill.

      Knowing that Queenie was his last chance of getting out of the hellhole of a hospital before Christmas, Albie decided to swallow his pride and call her.

      ‘What do you fucking want?’ Queenie hissed down the receiver.

      ‘I need a favour, love. The doctors said I can leave hospital if I’ve got somewhere to stay and a bit of help. Now, I know it’s over between us, but it won’t be for long, Queenie. As soon as I’m up and about again, I’ll find meself a little bedsit or something. Please help me, even if it’s only for old time’s sake?’

      Furious by the cheek of the untrustworthy waste of space, Queenie gave her deceitful husband what for. ‘For all I care you can go and sleep under the arches with the rest of the fucking tramps. I will never allow you to darken my doorstep again, you dirty old toad. You’re dead as far as me and my sons are concerned. Even little Brenda don’t ask about you no more. I hope you rot in that hospital, and I pray you get bedbugs and sores as well. I’m hanging up now. Happy Christmas, you old cuntbag.’

      When the line went dead and the nurse wheeled the phone away, Albie couldn’t stop the tears running down his cheeks. He didn’t want to spend his Christmas in bloody hospital. Now his family had disowned him, he had no visitors at all, and couldn’t even get somebody to sneak him in a bottle of brandy.

      Old Mr Perry opened one eye. He had been pretending to be asleep, but he had heard Albie ask Queenie if he could move back in with her. It was now time for one of his little sing-songs. ‘Daisy, Daisy, СКАЧАТЬ