so. ‘You owe my sister an apology, Vinny. Who do you think you are, eh? Going round her gaff and threatening her in front of her young son? You’re bang out of order and I ain’t fucking putting up with it. Judy is keeping her baby and that is final,’ Johnny said, sounding much more confident than he actually felt.
Vinny was very good at staring at people for long spells without blinking, and he had never met a man yet in his life who could hold his gaze. When Johnny dropped his eyes, Vinny grabbed him by the neck and smashed his head as hard as he could against the metal door. ‘Your slag of a sister will get rid of that kid whether you like it or not. I’ll kick it out of her personally, if I have to. Now go crawl back under your rock and tell that whore you’re related to that I’ll be round next week to check she’s un-pregnanted her fucking self.’
When Dave punched Vinny in the side of the head, Christopher Walker stood up to get a better view.
‘Silly move, you dumb cunt,’ Christopher heard Vinny say. He then saw Vinny repeatedly punch the man in the stomach, with what looked to be a knife.
When Johnny Preston saw his pal lying lifeless on the floor with blood pumping out of his abdomen, he knew it was time for a quick getaway. He ran like the clappers, leapt into his Triumph Herald and sped off as Vinny chased the car, screaming abuse at him.
Vinny could feel his heart beating ferociously as the car disappeared out of sight. It wasn’t down to nerves, more annoyance that Preston had got away as he’d wanted to stab that bastard too.
Punching a nearby wall, Vinny quickly looked up and down the road. Thankfully, being a Sunday afternoon there wasn’t a soul in sight, so Vinny stepped over Dave Phillips’ dead body, picked up the knife he had dropped, jumped in his Jaguar, and was just about to drive off, when he saw young Christopher Walker sitting in the doorway opposite the club. Leaning across the passenger seat to unlock the door, Vinny ordered young Christopher to get in.
Christopher no longer had any adrenaline pumping through his veins as he did what Vinny asked. He had seen too much now, far too much, and he was petrified. When Vinny drove past his parent’s café, Christopher started to sob. ‘You’re not gonna kill me as well, are you? I won’t say nothing about what happened, Vinny. I swear I won’t.’
With his head all over the place, Vinny pulled into a nearby sidestreet and stopped the car. He took a ten-pound note out of his pocket and handed it to Christopher. ‘Take that and there is plenty more where that came from. You saw nothing, understand?’
‘Yes. I understand,’ the boy said, making a grab for the money and then the door handle.
Vinny leant across Christopher so he couldn’t get out of the car. ‘You need to dry them tears before you get home, boy, and when you do get home, you gotta act normal. Me and you will be best pals for life if you keep your trap shut about this, OK?’
‘OK,’ Christopher said, desperately trying to dry his eyes with the sleeve of his duffle coat.
Vinny tilted the child’s chin up, and looked him in the eyes. ‘This has to stay our little secret. You don’t want anything bad to happen to your mum, dad, or sister, do you? Because if you say something, that’s exactly what will happen.’
‘No, I love my mum, dad and sister.’
‘There’s a good boy,’ Vinny said, ruffling Christopher’s hair.
When Vinny finally opened the car door for him, Christopher took off down the street like a rat up a drainpipe. To say he was terrified was putting it mildly.
Freda Smart knelt down next to the man and immediately knew he was dead. It wasn’t just the blood that had seeped out of his stomach and decorated the pavement; it was seeing his shocked open-mouthed expression and his eyes rolled back lifelessly in his head.
After yesterday’s events with Kenny Jackson, Freda had made a point of standing guard at her window today.
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