The Trap. Kimberley Chambers

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      Donald couldn’t help but glare at his son as he sat down next to Mary. Christopher had guilt written all over his deathly-white face.

      ‘Were you sitting in the doorway opposite the snooker club earlier, Christopher?’ asked the policeman.

      ‘Yeah I was, but not for long. I went to knock for my mate Tommy, but he wasn’t in, so I sat on the step on my way back to eat my sweets.’

      ‘You must tell the truth, boy,’ Donald ordered, pointing his finger dangerously close to his son’s face.

      ‘A man was murdered outside the snooker club earlier, Christopher, and the police know you were there when it happened. We have a witness who recognized you. Can you tell us exactly what you saw?’

      Christopher racked his brain for the best way to get himself out of the mess he was in. If he had been spotted at the scene, he would have to admit to seeing something, but there was no way he was grassing Vinny up. He was way too scared for his own safety and he didn’t want anything bad to happen to his mum, dad, or sister. ‘I did hear some shouting, then I heard someone running away, but I didn’t see what happened because there was a car parked in front of where I was sitting.’

      The officer sighed. He was sure little Christopher was lying. ‘Did you get into anybody’s car?’

      ‘No. My mum and dad have told me never to get in a stranger’s car. I walked home on my own.’

      ‘Please don’t be frightened to tell me the truth, Christopher. The man who has committed this murder will be locked up for many years to come, so it will not be possible for him to hurt you.’

      ‘I did see a man run away, and I think he was the killer, but I didn’t see the murder,’ Christopher wept.

      Donald squeezed Mary’s hand. Everything had been going so well for them since moving to Whitechapel. So why did this drama have to bloody well happen?

      The officer stood up. Obviously Vinny Butler had already nobbled the child, and it would take one of his superiors to get the truth out of him. He personally had been ordered to go gently on Christopher, which was why he had been sent to the café alone.

      ‘So, what happens now? Will you need to interview Christopher again?’ Donald asked, as he opened the door and followed the policeman outside.

      ‘Yes, he will almost definitely have to come down to the station to give a formal statement. In the meantime, perhaps you could have a little chat with him. I have a feeling that Christopher knows more than he is letting on.’

      ‘Do you mind if I ask who your suspect is?’ Donald enquired. He had already guessed that it was something to do with the Butlers, but was interested to know exactly who was involved.

      ‘I’m afraid I can’t speculate at the moment, Mr Walker. Us police officers have to abide by our innocent until proven guilty rule, and until somebody is actually charged, it would be very unprofessional of me to give out any names. I will speak to my superior and will be in touch again soon, OK?’

      Donald nodded, shut the door and leant against it. Christopher was crying and Mary was cuddling the deceitful child. Unable to stop himself, Donald ran towards his son and clouted him as hard as he could around the ear.

      ‘Stop it, Donald! He’s upset enough as it is,’ Mary exclaimed.

      Grabbing his son roughly by the arm, Donald took his shoe off and swiped it against Christopher’s backside. ‘How dare you defy my orders and hang around that bloody club? Now, get up those stairs and have a re-think about what you actually saw. As upstanding citizens of the community it is our duty to catch criminals, not harbour them. Also, just think of how beneficial it will be to your own career if you do decide to join the police force and they are aware that you helped catch a murderer at such a young age, eh?’

      When Christopher ran upstairs sobbing, Mary put her head in her hands. ‘Why did this have to happen to us, Donald? Why?’

      Holding his distraught wife in his arms, Donald shook his head sadly. For once, he really did not have an answer.

      As usual on a Sunday afternoon, Queenie cooked a roast for all the family.

      ‘Whatever’s wrong? Has Kenny kicked the bucket?’ she asked worriedly, when Vinny walked in. Just one look at her eldest son’s face told her that something terrible had happened.

      ‘Vinny,’ Lenny yelled, running out of the lounge and throwing his arms around his big cousin’s waist.

      Vinny took a two-bob note out of his pocket and handed it to Lenny. ‘I want you and Brenda to go to the shops and buy yourselves some sweets, Champ.’

      ‘What’s up?’ Roy asked, shutting the lounge door.

      ‘Where’s Michael?’ Vinny replied, ignoring his brother’s question.

      ‘Out on his moped.’

      Vinny explained everything that had happened outside the club, then put his head in his hands. He didn’t feel any remorse whatsoever over what he had done, but he didn’t want his mother thinking she had given birth to a cold-blooded killer. ‘I didn’t mean to kill the geezer, but it was two against one, Mum. I had to stick up for myself, didn’t I? They could have been tooled up or anything for all I knew.’

      Both Queenie and Vivian put comforting arms around Vinny’s slumped shoulders. ‘You did what you had to do, boy. Nothing more, nothing less,’ Vivian told him.

      ‘Yep. Vivvy’s right. They turned up looking for a row and unfortunately for them, they got one. I know it’s sad that you accidently killed the man, but there’s no point crying over spilt milk. What’s done is done, boy. Now apart from that young lad, was there anybody else about?’

      ‘No. It all happened so quickly, and apart from the kid, the street was desolate. Thank Christ our club is in a quiet sidestreet, eh, Roy?’ Vinny said, staring at his brother.

      Roy nodded, but said nothing. Vinny had always been a volatile bastard with a foul temper even when they were kids. Just lately though, Roy could sense his brother’s unpredictability and violent nature getting worse, which worried him greatly. In the past couple of weeks alone, he had put their own father in hospital, smashed the living daylights out of Kenny Jackson, and now he had stabbed some poor sod to death.

      Guessing what Roy was thinking, Vinny glared at him. ‘Say something then, if it’s only bollocks. What was I meant to do, eh? Stand there like a lemon and let them do me over? You weren’t there to back me up, was ya?’

      Queenie butted in before Roy could retaliate. ‘Arguing between us isn’t gonna solve this, is it? What we need is a watertight alibi in case the police start sniffing round. You were here with me, Vivian, Roy and the kids, OK, Vinny? I’ll word Brenda and Lenny up and worst ways, you give me fifty quid and I’ll give it to Old Ivy next door to say she saw you arrive early as well.’

      ‘Thanks, Mum,’ Vinny said, his voice full of relief. Old Ivy had given him an alibi once or twice in the past in exchange for cash, and Vinny knew she could be trusted.

      ‘Well, that’s that then. You both got here at one o’clock. Now, all you’ve got to hope is that child keeps his mouth shut, Vinny. Did you threaten him to do so?’

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