Backstabber, p.40
Backstabber, page 40
‘Yes, you nosy old cow. Well, she was until her older brother decided to put his hands around her throat and throttle her to death. Strange what life throws at you, isn’t it?’
Shocked and not knowing what else to say, the woman mumbled, ‘So sorry,’ then scuttled off.
‘Vin! How are you? I’ve missed you so much and been ever so worried about you,’ Frankie Mitchell gushed, waving her hand as an indication for her father and brother to leave the room. She was shaking so much; she could barely hold the phone.
‘Not great, Frankie. But I am going to get better. You alone? Where are the kids? Finn said Regan’s back home, but I don’t believe that. I think he’s lying to me.’
‘Finn wouldn’t lie to you, Vin. Regan is home and he’s absolutely fine. Harry’s home too, so we can move away now. That was all that was stopping me upping sticks in the first place. I had to be here for my kid’s return, you get that, don’t you?’
‘Put Regan on the phone. I don’t believe you.’
Having pre-warned Regan this might happen, Frankie called him.
‘Hello, Dad. We all miss you. Where are you? Can we come and visit?’
‘Was it Jamie Preston who snatched you? Did he hurt you at all? Was his mate there too? It’s so good to hear your voice.’
‘I’m fine, Dad, honest. I don’t know who took me, but there was only one man. I was scared and missed you all, then Georgie’s granddad rescued me and brought me home,’ Regan said, winking at Frankie. She’d told him to spin this particular yarn.
‘OK, son. I’ll see you soon. Put Frankie back on the blower.’
‘See, I told you he was fine.’
‘What happened to Jamie? And how did your dad get Regan back? How did he know where to find him?’ His paranoia was spiralling out of control.
‘It’s a long story, Vin, but to cut it short, my old man tracked Jamie down and sent him packing. We won’t be hearing from him any more, put it that way.’
‘Is he dead?’
‘I’ll tell you more in person. Dad’s told me not to say too much on the phone. Are you in Lincolnshire?’
‘No.’
‘Where are you then? I need to see you to sort out this move. I’m not living in some rubbish house. We’ll choose something nice together.’
Having been sceptical at the start of the conversation, Little Vinny was now starting to trust and believe Frankie. ‘Finn said you got rid of the letter. Where is it now? You didn’t tell him what I wrote did you?’
Frankie’s heart was beating like a drum, but she had to keep the façade up. ‘I burned the letter because nobody needs to know now, do they? You were young, Vin, made a mistake, end of. It was an accident and accidents happen every day. I believe everything you’ve told me, although many wouldn’t. But I love and know the real you, which is why I’m willing for us to make a fresh start. I never mentioned anything about what was in that letter to Finn or anybody else. Let’s just forget about it now. Jamie’s been dealt with and won’t be bothering us no more, so we can move on with our lives as one big happy family.’
‘I’d like that, and can you give my dad a message for me? It weren’t Felicity at the police station with Terry. I remembered, the woman who was kind to me had dark hair. I think I recognized his girlfriend from dancing at his club.’
‘You sure?’
‘Yes. Just tell my dad Felicity ain’t Old Bill. I got it wrong. He’ll understand.’
‘Will do,’ Frankie continued to chat to Little Vinny as though everything was fine before asking the all-important question.
When Little Vinny happily reeled off an address, Frankie had tears in her eyes. If only he hadn’t performed such a despicable deed in his youth, they probably could and would have been happy together.
‘Let me make you a cup of tea, boy. Thanks for coming at such short notice,’ Queenie Butler said.
Michael Butler yawned. Since Felicity’s murder, he was suffering from insomnia and permanently felt knackered in the daytime. ‘I can’t stop, so don’t worry about the tea. Got to be somewhere soon. What’s the problem?’
‘It’s Little Vinny. I think his life’s in danger.’
‘What!’
Failing to mention that the allegation might well be true, Queenie told Michael what she wanted him to know. ‘Not a cat in hell’s chance Little Vinny did such a dreadful thing. You’ve seen with your own eyes how wonderful he is with children. You need to get in touch with your brother and stop him from doing anything he’ll regret.’
‘Sorry, Mum, but I’m not getting involved. I’ve had enough of Vinny’s dramas to last me a lifetime,’ Michael spat. Vinny obviously hadn’t told their mother he was meeting him later and he hoped this latest revelation wasn’t about to balls his own plans up.
‘That’s not the way I brought you up, is it?’
‘Unfortunately not.’
Queenie pursed her thin lips. ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’
‘It means I’m done with all this madness. It’s time to forget about family business and concentrate on myself. My whole life has been a charade. Our family is like one big pantomime. Death, destruction, arguments and violence. It’s over for me. I’m moving on.’
Queenie was shocked by Michael’s harsh assessment, but was still determined to make him see sense. ‘Your brother needs you right now. Those Mitchells are behind all this – I’m sure they’re planning to stab Vinny in the back. You have to watch his back, be there in his hour of need. That’s what brothers do.’
Michael stared defiantly into his mother’s eyes. He loved her, of course; always would. But he could now see her for what she really was. A trouble-making, bitter, manipulative woman who always put herself and Vinny first. ‘Vinny ain’t my problem. He’s your problem now. Oh, and I’d take my head out the sand, if I was you. Best thing I’ve ever done.’
When Michael turned his back on her and sauntered towards the front door, an incensed Queenie grabbed him by the back of his jacket. ‘I brought you into this world, show some bloody respect. Don’t you dare say such awful things, then walk out on me.’
Determined not to show his true emotions, Michael turned, kissed his mother on the cheek and uttered the words, ‘Until we meet again.’
Vinny Butler listened attentively while Frankie Mitchell told her version of events. He’d turned up acting calm and politely asked Eddie and Joey if he could speak to Frankie alone. ‘What exactly can you remember him saying while having these nightmares?’ Vinny asked.
‘He just said stuff like “Sorry, Molly” and “I didn’t mean to kill you”. He was such a good dad when I first met him, Vinny, the best. Nobody could get through to Georgie and Harry at the time, but Little Vinny connected with them. I know our relationship was odd because of Sammi-Lou and Stuart dying, but I truly fell for him and could see a big future together for us.’
Vinny ran his hand through his hair. Frankie had told him so much that could only have come from his son; any doubt or hope he’d had that it was all a misunderstanding, or that his mother was right and the Mitchells were in fact out to get him, had now vanished. ‘So sorry he’s ruined your life as well as mine and his sister’s, Frankie.’
Frankie had fully expected Vinny to act like an arsehole towards her, but instead he’d been kind and considerate, which made her feel even sadder. ‘If it makes this any easier, he swore blind that it was an accident. He said he was dangling Molly upside down when he realized she’d stopped breathing. He then tried to resuscitate her, but couldn’t. I’m sure he was telling the truth, Vinny. I know that’s not much of a consolation, mind.’
For once, Vinny Butler bit his lip. It was clear to see what an effect this had had on Frankie and how traumatized she was. His son was a liar, a born evil liar, because he remembered the coroner’s report. Even the police had told him she’d been throttled to death on purpose. ‘Tell me what he said about the day Molly went missing. I can’t take hearing any more about her actual death, it breaks my heart. Did he say anything about why he took Molly in the first place?’
‘Yes. He said you had split him up from his girlfriend by turning up at her door and telling her and her mum he was younger than what he’d said he was. I can’t remember her name. Little Vinny was rambling when he told me all this.’
‘Shazza. Her name was Shazza.’
‘That’s it. I remember it now. I think that’s why he had the hump with you. He said he’d run away after that, but he couldn’t forgive you for spoiling things for him at the time. He was also jealous of your relationship with Molly; I know that for a fact. He hinted on many an occasion, especially when he’d been drinking, that as a child he felt unloved, unwanted, and when Molly was born he felt like he didn’t exist far as you were concerned. That’s why he gave his sons equal attention, so he reckoned, although he did admit to me once that Oliver was his favourite. Sammi-Lou told me that too. She said he’d always doted on Oliver.’
‘The day Molly went missing, did he say anything about a flood at the club?’
‘Erm, let me think. It’s all a bit blurred, but, yes, he did say something. I remember asking him how he’d managed to hand Molly over to Ben, and he said something about pulling a pipe out of the washing machine so it flooded the cellar. I might be wrong about that though. He could have said indoors, but it was definitely something to do with a flood and a washing machine. Does that make sense to you?’
The turmoil and loathing Vinny felt were overwhelming, but he managed to keep his emotions in check in front of Frankie. ‘It makes perfect sense. Thanks so much for your time. I’ll get out of your hair now.’
When Vinny stood up, Frankie did the same. ‘The moment he gets in touch, I’ll let my dad know.’ Her father had told her not to tell Vinny his son had already called.
Vinny kissed Frankie’s right cheek. ‘Thanks, love.’
Frankie’s eyes welled up. ‘I’m so sorry.’
Vinny waited until Frankie was out of earshot before mumbling the words, ‘Not half as sorry as that evil cunt of a son of mine will be when I get my hands on him.’
The cold February air chilling him to the bone, Michael Butler was shivering, yet sweating at the same time. Beads were forming on his forehead, but no way could he take off his crash helmet. Too risky with DNA so shit hot now.
‘Hurry up, Vinny,’ Michael mumbled. The lane was desolate, a dirt track that ended at a metal gate. The fields behind probably belonged to a farmer. Would it be that farmer who found Vinny’s body? Michael wondered. Only he couldn’t imagine many people walking down this particular dirt track, not even dog walkers. There was something eerie about it, and it wasn’t too dissimilar to the one Vinny had ended Trevor Thomas’s life in. That’s how he and his brother had come across this spot in the first place; they’d driven around trying to find the perfect place to commit the perfect murder.
Finally, hearing the distinctive sound of an approaching vehicle, Michael’s heart rate went into overdrive. Roxy Music’s ‘Jealous Guy’ was blasting out the speakers. That was one thing Michael had never been: jealous of Vinny, or anyone else for that matter. What he was about to do had sod-all to do with envy, it was purely about wanting to lead a normal life, keep his family safe, and ensure no other woman met the same fate as Felicity. Nothing wrong with that, was there?
Michael stepped out of his hiding place among the trees and lifted the plastic front of the helmet. His brother had already stepped out of the car to light a cigar.
‘Bruv! You shit the life outta me then. Where’s your motor? I’m so pleased you called.’
Hands trembling like leaves in the breeziest of winds, Michael lifted the gun. ‘I’m sorry, Vinny, I really am. But I’ve got to do this before you bring us all down.’
Vinny was stunned, but after the day he’d had, he just laughed manically. ‘And there was me thinking you were auditioning to be Evel Knievel.’ He held his hands up. ‘You can’t be serious, Michael, not after all we’ve been through. This is a joke, right?’
‘I wish it was. I love you; always will, but I don’t like you. You’re the bane of my life, have been for a long time.’
Realizing his little brother was serious, Vinny’s eyes welled up. ‘You’re not thinking straight. What about Ava and Mum? I can’t believe you would do this to them. I found out only today that Little Vinny killed Molly. Can you believe that? It’s fucking true, I swear, bruv. Can you imagine what I’m going through right now? Drop the gun please, Michael. We can sort this another way.’
‘No. I need to sort this once and for all. Champ, Roy, Oliver and Sammi-Lou are all dead because of you. Who’ll be next to suffer while you end up walking away scot-free? My kids, perhaps?’
‘Look, I know I’ve been a cunt at times, but from now on I’ll change, I promise. I love you, Michael, and if you shoot me now you’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars. Both Mum and Eddie know I was due to meet you here at nine, so how you gonna get out of this, eh?’
Sweating like a pig, Michael shook his head. ‘You’re lying. I’ve got an alibi.’
Vinny slung his phone at Michael’s feet. ‘Ring them. I’m not lying, I swear. I rung ’em both in the past hour,’ he lied.
Michael raised the gun again, hands trembling.
‘First time I’ve seen you in a crash helmet since you were a Mod. Remember me and Roy clubbing together and turning up on your sixteenth birthday with that Lambretta, do ya? Skint us back then, that did. But do you know why we went without ourselves for a few weeks to buy you it, and all those Mod clothes you wanted? Because you were our kid brother and we fucking adored you. Always had your back, I have, Michael. Please don’t do this. You’ll break the spine of our family. Don’t you think they’ve been through enough already? Especially Mum. How’s she gonna cope, losing me so soon after Auntie Viv being murdered?’
It was at that point that Michael Butler dropped the gun …
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Having ordered Gary to take an early morning trip to Stock, Eddie Mitchell waited impatiently for his return. He’d told his son not to call him as he was worried the police might be tapping the phones because of Felicity’s disappearance.
Ed had just put the kettle on to make himself another coffee, when he heard the crunch of tyres on his gravel. He bolted outside. ‘Well?’
Gary shook his head. ‘Gonna struggle to pull it off. Looks like a pokey little council house, and it isn’t detached.’
‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! He told Frankie it was a big gaff, detached.’
Gary chuckled. ‘Only kidding.’
Eddie clumped his son around the head. ‘Grow up, will ya? This is hardly a laughing matter.’
‘Sorry. Just thought I’d lighten the mood. The gaff is absolutely perfect, Dad. Got a long drive, plenty of trees and there are no security gates.’
‘How close are the neighbours?’
‘He hasn’t got no neighbours. Very secluded. You wait until you see it. No cameras, nothing, just plenty of trees, bushes, and a long narrow drive. The perfect setting to commit murder.’
Eddie was a relieved man. He wasn’t looking forward to later this evening, but sometimes in his world, things just had to be done.
Bella D’Angelo flipped the omelette with a big smile on her face. Michael had been distant with her recently, hadn’t been coming around so often and, on the occasions he did, would insist he was too tired to make love.
Yesterday evening, Camila had been out with friends so Bella had cooked Michael a romantic candlelit meal. He’d turned up hours late, after ten o’clock, but they’d still had a wonderful evening, chatted and laughed like the old days. Then they’d ripped one another’s clothes off and had passionate, wild sex. Their lovemaking had always been like that once upon a time, and Bella felt joyous today as she was sure they’d turned a corner. Antonio being around had never helped matters. But now he had gone off travelling, Bella secretly hoped Michael would move back in with her permanently, especially after last night.
Camila Butler grinned as her father came into the kitchen. ‘Mum tells me you had a lovely romantic evening last night.’
Michael kissed his daughter on the cheek. ‘Yeah. How was your evening?’
‘Good. I went to Prezzo’s, then back to a friend’s house.’
‘What would you like in your omelette, Michael?’ Bella asked, handing a cheese and ham one to her daughter. She’d had a Spanish housekeeper when the children were growing up, but now liked to cook herself.
‘I’m not hungry. Cami, take your omelette upstairs and eat it, babe. I need to have a chat with your mum.’
Wondering if her father was going to finally do the honourable thing and propose to her mother, Camila skipped happily up the stairs. Having said that, if her boyfriend ever proposed in a similar way, he’d be wearing the omelette, not eating it.
Noticing that Michael had an odd, deadpan expression on his face, Bella turned off the frying pan, sat at the table opposite him and held his hands. ‘What’s the matter?’
Michael snatched his hands away. ‘I’m sorry, but I can’t do this any more.’
‘Do what?’
‘This. Us. It isn’t working for me.’
Bella’s eyes glistened. ‘How can you say that? Last night was amazing, just like old times. Now Antonio’s not around, we can make this work, Michael. I know we can.’
Having mugged himself off in front of his brother last night, Michael was determined to redeem himself.
‘But it ain’t like old times, is it? And you know as well as I do, it never can be. I’ll always love you, Bella, but I unfortunately can’t forget. I have tried, believe me, really tried. But what happened just won’t go away. It’s imprinted in my brain.’
Bemused, Bella begged: ‘Please don’t do this, Michael. We can’t change the past but we can change the future. We’ll move away, if you like, start afresh somewhere. As long as I’m with you, I don’t care where we are. I love you dearly, always have done. You and I are soulmates.’
