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

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?’

      Vinny nodded his head. He liked children and felt more guilty about threatening Christopher Walker than committing the murder.

      ‘What exactly did you say to him?’ Vivian asked.

      ‘Not much. I just made sure he knew that if he opened his trap something bad would happen to his family. I gave him a tenner an’ all.’

      Queenie squeezed her son’s hand. ‘Do you want me and Vivian to have a word with him as well? We can catch him on his way to or from school.’

      ‘No, leave it for now, Mum. The boy looked petrified enough, so let’s just see what happens, eh? It will only be my word against his if he says anything. Johnny Preston definitely ain’t gonna grass me, so I think it’s best we just ride the storm. I mean if you, Viv, Roy, Ivy and the kids all swear blind I was here, what can the Old Bill do?’

      When the doorbell rang, Vivian sprang up and spied through the net curtain. ‘It’s the police.’

      Queenie shoved Roy out the back door. ‘You need to clue Brenda and Lenny up. Go find ’em, quick.’

      When Roy bolted out the back, Queenie took a deep breath and wiped her clammy hands on her apron. She then opened the front door and smiled. ‘Good afternoon, officers. What can I do for you?’

      ‘Oh my God! I hope that isn’t the police again,’ Mary exclaimed, when she heard a pummelling against the front door of the café.

      ‘You stay here. I’ll sort it,’ Donald insisted, running down the stairs.

      ‘Hello, I’m Detective Inspector Stevens. I understand one of my colleagues popped in to see you earlier?’

      ‘Yes, that is correct. Would you like to come in?’ Donald asked, apprehensively.

      ‘No. I would actually like you and your son to come along to the police station with me. We have organized an identification parade, and it would be most helpful if your son could pick out the man he saw arguing with the victim.’

      ‘I’m very sorry, but Christopher is only eight years old and I think it is wholly inappropriate that he be involved in something as nerve-racking as an identification parade. I have just had a very long chat with Christopher myself and I can assure you that he has told you everything he knows. My son has been brought up with morals and he would never lie about something as serious as this.’

      D.I. Stevens nodded understandingly. ‘I do see what you mean, but this identification parade will not take very long and I can assure you our suspects will not see or even know that your son is there, Sir.’

      Donald sighed. He had always classed himself as a pillar of the community, so how could he say no? ‘Wait there while I speak to Christopher.’

      Vinny Butler followed the seven other men into the empty room. He hadn’t been arrested, his alibi was watertight, and when the police had asked him to participate in an identification parade, he had readily agreed. He had to act as though he was innocent, and it would be a sign of guilt if he refused.

      Wondering who was behind the blacked-out window, Vinny felt his heart rate quadruple. Asking himself if there had been another witness he hadn’t spotted, Vinny made a mental note to dispose of the knife and the clothes he had been wearing the following morning. After dropping off Christopher earlier, he had hidden them as best as he could, but the clothes needed burning as they were splashed with blood, and the knife needed to be got rid of properly. Roy would have to sort both out for him, in case he himself was being watched.

      Vinny glanced at the other men in the line-up. They were all roughly his age, but none was as good-looking or oozed class like he did. When the officer barked orders for all eight men to stand up straight and stare at the blackened window,Vinny, being Vinny, stood tall and more confidently than any other.

      Christopher chewed his lip nervously when he was told to study the men one by one. His dad was sitting in the room with him, which was making him feel even more anxious. ‘Nope, it’s definitely none of them who I saw,’ he mumbled, after a couple of minutes.

      ‘Take your time, Christopher. We have reason to believe that the perpetrator of this terrible crime is amongst these men. You sit here and have a long hard look, while I have a little chat with your dad outside.’

      Donald followed the officer out of the room.

      ‘My colleague said something about your children attending a party at a snooker club yesterday that is owned by Vinny and Roy Butler. Are you two families friends?’

      ‘Oh, dear God, no! We have only moved into the area recently and my wife and I have barely spoken to the Butler family. My daughter has just started a new school and is in the same class as young Brenda. That is the only reason why she and Christopher got invited to the party.’

      ‘And what was this incident your son was involved in yesterday? My colleague mentioned that somebody was attacked at the party?’ D.I. Stevens asked. He was well aware of Kenny Jackson being admitted to the London Hospital, but his wife had insisted he had fallen over drunk, which both she and he knew was a big fat lie.

      ‘No, as far as I’m aware nobody was attacked, officer. My children ran home scared because they saw a man lying on the floor bleeding nearby the building as they left,’ Donald lied. His Christopher was in too deep as it was, and he wasn’t in the right frame of mind for even more questioning.

      ‘Does your son know Vinny Butler well, Mr Walker?’

      ‘No, of course he doesn’t,’ Donald spat.

      Furious that he was getting nowhere fast, D.I. Stevens strode back into the room and left Donald standing outside. Whitechapel was becoming a hotbed for gangland families and murders these days and it was his duty to stamp out such scum.

      ‘Have you recognized anybody now, Christopher?’ he asked, with a hint of sarcasm creeping into his voice.

      ‘No,