Michael Butler was awoken in his marital bed by his wife kissing him gently on the lips. ‘It’s half six, Michael, and you said you wanted to be up at the crack of dawn. I’m going downstairs to make you a decent breakfast. You’re going to need it with the day you’ve got ahead. And if you want me to come to court with you, the offer’s still there. My mum can take the boys to school.’

‘Nah, you’re all right, babe. I’ve got to find Little Vinny, then pick my mum up by nine. I appreciate you offering though. Means a lot.’

Nancy smiled. After their argument yesterday, she had been ready to pack some stuff and take the boys back to her parents’ house once again. But a good talking to from her mum had made her change her mind.

‘Nance, you know you’re always welcome here, but you can’t keep uprooting them boys every time you and Michael have a cross word. All couples argue. That’s life, and what you’ve just told me isn’t even that bad. As much as we all dislike Vinny, Michael must have a lot on his mind if his brother is facing prison. He’s got that club to run and all sorts. You should be supporting your husband, not rowing with him. Please don’t think I’m having a dig at you, love, but I do think you need to grow up a bit for the sake of your sons. That’s probably why Daniel has been playing up so much, truth be known. Poor little sod needs stability, not you moving out every other month. If you’re that unhappy with Michael, then get a bloody divorce. You can’t keep changing your mind every five minutes. Either make a go of your marriage, or make a clean break.’

Some home truths were exactly what Nancy had needed to hear, and after a few tears, she’d immediately rung Michael at the club to apologize and beg him to come home. Michael had accepted her apology, but had told Nancy he would have to stay at the club as there was nobody else to look after his nephew. However, when Little Vinny had failed to show his face by ten, Michael had surprised her by coming home. They’d then made love.

‘Your breakfast is ready, Michael. Boys, time to get up now,’ Nancy shouted up the stairs.

Michael walked into the kitchen accompanied by their eldest son. ‘Go on then. What you got to say to your mum?’

Daniel stared at his feet. ‘I’m sorry I was rude to you yesterday. I promise I’ll be good from now on. I will also ring Nanny Mary and say sorry to her.’

Nancy smiled as she bent down and hugged Daniel to her chest. Her mum was right. The boys needed a settled environment and they needed their father.

Vinny Butler sat down opposite his brief. Being locked up was making him feel insane. Molly was on his mind constantly. When he was awake, all he could think about was how scared she must have been and how he had let her down. And when he was asleep, she was still alive in his mind and he could see her pretty face as if she was right there beside him. He could even hear her talking to him. When he woke up and remembered that his daughter was dead, it was mental torture at its very worst.

‘Colin, you have to get me bail. I know I’m gonna do bird over Jackson, but I can’t do it right now. It’s too soon after Molly. I need to get my nut straight and prepare myself. I’ll go off my head if they put me in prison while I’m not strong enough to cope.’

Colin Harvey sighed. He was the most sought-after brief among the London gangland fraternity, which was why Vinny had requested his services. ‘Vinny, I will do my very best for you. But I cannot make you any promises. The police opposed your original bail, and they have even more of an argument now Jackson is dead. There is one thing I can assure you though: if the decision does not go in our favour today, I will take your appeal to the Old Bailey. With everything you have been through, nothing is impossible.’

Vinny put his head in his hands. He wasn’t stupid, and knew by the way his brief had tried to dress his words up that he was doomed.

Little Vinny rested his chin on the edge of the lavatory seat. He hadn’t stopped spewing since he’d arrived back at the club in the early hours of this morning, and he had no idea whether it was the heroin he’d smoked that was making him so ill or the thought of that disgusting toothless whore sucking his penis.

‘Vin, you upstairs, boy?’ Michael shouted.

‘Yeah. I’m ill. I think I’ve got a bug.’

Michael ran up the stairs, took one look at the state of his nephew hugging the toilet and jumped to his own conclusion. He could smell the alcohol fumes and Little Vinny’s eyes looked glazed. ‘You been puffing and drinking, boy?’

‘Yeah. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,’ Little Vinny promised. Anything was better than admitting he had chased the dragon with Alison Bloggs, then allowed her to suck his John Thomas and spunked in her mouth.

‘Where did you go? I waited here until ten for you. Was you with Ben?’

Little Vinny’s eyes filled with tears. ‘No. I was on my own. Ben’s still missing, Dad’s going to prison. Nobody wants me to live with them, and I still keep thinking about Molly. It’s all my fault she’s dead.’

Michael rubbed his nephew’s back as he retched again. His heart went out to the boy. ‘You got to stop blaming yourself for your sister’s death, Vin. You’ll drive yourself doolally if you don’t. That little cunt Jamie Preston is the one who snuffed Molly’s life out, not you. Your mate Ben is bound to turn up soon. Probably wanted a break from that monster of a mother of his. As for your dad, what will be will be. But you’ll never be homeless, I can promise you that. Us Butlers stick together. You know the score.’

‘But who am I gonna live with?’

‘I don’t know yet. We’ll worry about that once we know your dad’s fate. He’s up in court today and I know he would want you to be there. Why don’t you jump in the bath while I pop round the cafe and get you something to eat? A couple of greasy egg and bacon rolls will sort that hangover of yours right out.’

‘I don’t think I’m well enough to go to court, and I really don’t feel hungry.’

‘You’ll be fine, trust me. Put your smart suit on. Gonna look well bad if you don’t show your face. Don’t worry if you feel sick on the way, I’ll tell your nan and Auntie Viv you’ve had a bug, OK?’

Little Vinny sighed. Why should he go to court? His family were always banging on about sticking together, yet no one wanted him. About to argue his point, Little Vinny decided against it. If his Dad was going to prison, he needed to keep on the right side of his Uncle Michael. ‘OK. I’ll put me suit on.’

After trying on five different outfits, Queenie Butler decided to wear her smart apple-green skirt suit. The colour suited her bleached blonde hair and bright red lipstick.

Deciding to add her big gold cross for luck so she could hold it and silently pray while waiting for the verdict, Queenie studied herself in the full-length mirror. ‘Not bad for nearly fifty-four, if I say so meself,’ she mumbled.

Having recovered from her shock at seeing a rock-hard todger the previous day, Vivian put her key in the lock.

‘Cooey, Queen. I’m ready. Shall I make us a cuppa or would you prefer a sherry to settle your nerves?’ she shouted out. She was only going to the court hearing to support her sister. As far as she was concerned, Vinny could rot in prison after what he’d put her through.

Queenie picked up her handbag and marched down the stairs. ‘I’ll have a cuppa, but put a large brandy in it. How you feeling today?’

‘Fine. I saw Lil’s niece when I went round for my paper this morning. She reckons Lil might be home next week and said she’s gonna move in to care for her full-time. Nice of her, ain’t it? And it saves us the worry of being lumbered with new neighbours.’

Queenie pursed her lips. She didn’t much care for Lil’s niece. ‘Well, she’s no bloody beauty queen, is she? Her arse looks like the back of a bus and as for the face … Never gonna get a husband that one, so she might as well move in and look after her poor aunt. At least it will give her a purpose in life.’

‘Aw, Queen, you are awful,’ Vivian chuckled.

‘Well, no point beating about the bush, is there? Best to say it as it is, that’s my motto. ’Ere, that’s Michael just pulled up outside. I’ll drink me cuppa, then we’ll make a move.’

Ahmed and Burak were standing outside Bow Street Magistrates’ Court smoking.

‘Did you tell Michael that we would be here today?’ Burak asked.

‘No. I thought it would be a nice surprise for him and his witch of a mother.’

Burak chuckled. ‘Mumma’s broomstick has just arrived by the looks of it.’

After a terrible journey, with Michael having to stop three times because her grandson felt sick, Queenie Butler was not amused to spot Ahmed. ‘What’s he bastard-well doing here? I don’t want him in the courtroom. It should be family only.’

‘Ahmed’s all right, Nan. He’s dad’s best mate, so he’s gonna want to show his support,’ Little Vinny said.

Queenie glared at her grandson. ‘You keep your opinions to yourself, you. Stomach bug, my arse. Pissed last night, more like.’

‘Mum, please don’t kick off. We’re all here for Vinny and that’s all that matters,’ Michael hissed.

‘I’m not. I’m here for your mother’s sake,’ Vivian mumbled.

Ahmed nodded. ‘Good day to you all. Burak and I felt it only right to show our faces. Vinny has been through so much and he needs his friends at a time like this. I just hope he is freed.’

Ignoring Ahmed, Queenie grabbed her sister’s arm and marched straight into the court. She had never liked that Turk from day one and in her opinion he’d been a bad influence on her son. It might have been Vinny driving the car on the night Lenny died, but if it hadn’t been for Ahmed encouraging him to take drugs in the first place, Viv’s son would most probably still be alive. Queenie had always worn rose-tinted spectacles when it came to her eldest, and this new theory she’d come up with suited her. Anything was better than hating and blaming her own flesh and blood.

Nancy and Joanna had been on the phone for the past half an hour. Joanna seemed in pretty good spirits overall, and Nancy suspected this was entirely due to her pregnancy.

‘So have your mum and dad said any more about the baby, Jo?’

‘No. It’s as though they are trying to pretend I’m not pregnant. Perhaps they are hoping I will miscarry or change my mind about an abortion.’

‘I doubt your mum and dad would wish a miscarriage on you, mate. They’re obviously just worried in case Vinny finds out. Have you thought about where you are going to move to yet?’

‘I shouldn’t have to move far at all if Vinny gets sent down today. Our child will more than likely be a teenager by the time that bastard is let out. I am never going to tell my baby who his or her father is. Imagine having to tell your own kid their father is a murderer! It’s too awful for words. You haven’t told anyone, have you?’

‘No. Of course not,’ Nancy replied. Jo would be angry with her if she admitted she had told her mother.

‘Good. I’d better go now. My mum’s calling out that lunch is ready. I never skip a meal now I’m eating for two again. Promise me you’ll ring me as soon as you hear the verdict, Nance. I so hope the authorities lock him up and throw away the key. Vinny is scum and I cannot believe I ever fell for him or his bullshit in the first place.’

The magistrate was a woman and when she bellowed the words ‘Bail application rejected,’ Vinny went ballistic.

‘You fucking witch! I hope you’ve got kids and one of them gets murdered, you old cunt,’ he screamed, thrashing about and trying to smash up the court.

‘Do something, Michael. He’s gonna get himself into even more trouble,’ Queenie cried.

Visibly upset as his father was wrestled to the ground and then handcuffed, Little Vinny bolted from the court.

Ahmed and Burak kept straight faces but were secretly elated. The police had urged the magistrate to remand Vinny in custody until his trial. Their argument was, now that Vinny had been charged with murder they had serious concerns that he could and probably would abscond, given the chance. They had even hinted that he might disappear abroad.

Overwhelmed with the urge to howl with laughter when Queenie began to batter a policeman with her handbag, Ahmed knew it was time to leave. He grabbed Burak’s arm then shouted, ‘Stay strong, Vinny. Keep your chin up and I will visit you very soon, my friend.’

After dropping his mum and aunt home, Michael headed straight back to the club with Little Vinny. He had a bit of a dilemma on his hands now. His nephew had to be found a place to stay where he would be safe and someone would keep an eye on him. Michael could think of only one solution: his father. But whether Albie would consider moving back to Whitechapel was another matter.

‘So where am I sleeping tonight? Ahmed said he will look after me if I have nowhere else to go.’

Michael looked at his nephew in horror. Over his dead body was he letting Ahmed take care of the boy. The buzzer stopped Michael from replying. ‘Go and answer the door, Vin. And unless it’s Paul, Pete or family, do not let anybody in.’

Little Vinny opened the main club door and was horrified when a tearful Alison Bloggs lunged towards him.

‘Get off of me, you slag. Touch me again and I’ll kill you.’

‘It’s Ben! He’s gone. My Ben has gone, Vin,’ Alison screamed.

Little Vinny felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. ‘Gone! Whaddya mean gone?’

Michael stormed into the foyer. ‘I’ve had enough poxy drama for one day. What’s with all the shouting, eh?’

Alison Bloggs let out a racking sob and sank to her knees. ‘He’s dead. My Ben’s dead. He hanged himself from a tree in Hainault Forest. Why did he do it, Vin? Why?’

Feeling sick, light-headed, shocked and at the same time shit-scared, Little Vinny turned on his heel and ran.

Over in North London, Vinny Butler was struggling to cope with his new surroundings. After being literally dragged from the court he had been driven to Pentonville Prison – or the Ville, as it was known in the circles Vinny mixed in – and forced to undergo a strip search.

It had been the most humiliating experience of Vinny’s life and, after kicking off big style during it, he’d been put on suicide watch and slung in a cell on his own, on what he could only imagine was the ‘nut-nut wing’. It had to be as he seemed to be surrounded by a load of loonies who were continuously screaming and shouting.

Hearing the Glaswegian in the cell next door yelling for methadone yet again, Vinny leapt off his bunk, ran to the door and began kicking and punching it in frustration. ‘I swear to you, if you don’t shut the fuck up, you Scottish shitcunt, I will cut your tongue out that big mouth of yours and ram it straight down the back of your throat.’

The Glaswegian chuckled. ‘I’d like to see you try, you cockney prick.’

Absolutely seething at being defied and laughed at, yet unable to do anything about it, Vinny crouched in the corner of his cell, put his hands over his ears and rocked to and fro. He had promised himself on the way here that he would allow himself to think of anything or anyone other than Molly. That was the only way to stop himself going totally insane and he knew it. As an image of his daughter’s beautiful face flashed through his mind, Vinny turned his attention back to the Glaswegian and tried to build a picture in his brain of what the tosser would look like. He then made a vow to himself. Whoever the Jock was – and he would make it his mission to find out – he would carry out his threat and mutilate the fucktard.

Little Vinny was drunk, distraught, tired and cold. Ben Bloggs had been the only true friend he’d ever had and now he was dead. Why was it that everybody important in his life was taken away from him? First his mum, dying of an overdose when he was only five. Now, on the same day his dad had been sent to prison for Christ knows how long, Ben had been found hanging from a tree.

As he crawled into what he and Ben had always referred to as their ‘special place’, Little Vinny had tears rolling down his cheeks. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Ben’s death was partly his fault. His pal had been a shadow of his former self ever since Molly’s demise, but having inherited his father’s genes, Little Vinny preferred to blame others rather than himself.

‘I’m gonna miss you so much, Ben. We had so many laughs together, didn’t we? Who am I gonna ride up and down on the District Line with now? I blame your whore of a mother. If you hadn’t had such a shit upbringing and home life, you would still be alive. I’ll make sure that slag pays for the way she treated you. That’s the least I owe you, pal.’

Staring at the spot where he had brutally throttled the life out of his three-year-old sister, Little Vinny began to cry. ‘I am sorry, Molly. I blame your mum and our dad for making me do what I did. When you was born, nobody wanted to know me any more, and I hated you for that. I suppose I was jealous.’

Full of self-pity, Little Vinny wiped the tears from his eyes and clambered to his feet. Taking one last look around, he made a vow to himself that this would be the last time he’d ever visit this spot.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘You’re late,’ Queenie informed her youngest son.

‘Give me a break, Mum. I’ve been running around like a blue-arsed fly since Vinny got bird. Why have you summoned me round at this time of the morning anyway? I’ve only had four hours’ sleep.’

‘We’ll get to that in a minute. How d’ya think Vinny’s coping? He sounded very stressed when he rung me yesterday. I’m ever so worried about him, Michael. Why didn’t he want me to come with you today?’

‘Probably because prison’s no place for a lady. And it’s no good asking me how he’s coping because I won’t know until I visit him, Mum. You’re the one he’s been phoning, not me,’ Michael hissed. It was a week to the day since Vinny had been refused bail. To say Michael was miffed that his brother had not bothered to contact him once in that time was putting it mildly.

‘Why you so ratty?’

‘Because I’ve got a lot on me plate.’

‘Like what?’ Queenie enquired.

‘Like the club’s takings are in freefall, plus I’ve got my wife on my case the whole time because I’m having to sleep at the club to keep an eye on my nephew because no other bastard will do it.’

Knowing Michael’s words were a dig at her for refusing to take on the responsibility of minding Little Vinny, Queenie quickly changed the subject. ‘Still won’t talk about what happened, your Auntie Viv. Traumatized she is, I can tell. I mean, having a big dingle-dangle waved at her at her time of life could’ve killed her, Michael. What a shock for the poor woman,’ she elaborated.

‘Bang out of order, Mum. And as I promised, I’ll pay Pervy Pat a visit. I haven’t forgotten, just haven’t had time yet.’

‘Best you make time and pay him a bit more than a quick visit now, boy. Janey came clean to her family and Billy Higgins keeled over with a heart attack. Had angina for years, the poor bastard. Been rushed to hospital and is in intensive care. Your Auntie Viv’s in pieces, as you can well imagine. She’s always held a torch for Billy. Pervy Pat needs to be dealt with, Michael, before he gets the chance to pounce again. Shame Vinny’s not around. He’d have sorted it in no time. Don’t want people taking liberties while he’s at Her Majesty’s pleasure.’

‘Vinny ain’t the only person round ’ere that’s capable of dealing with stuff, Mother. I do happen to be a Butler as well, you know. I’ll sort it ASAP, all right?’

Queenie nodded. ‘That’ll be great comfort to Auntie Viv, boy. She’s very depressed today and we don’t want her going down that road again, do we?’

Little Vinny felt physically sick as he approached the Bloggses’ abode. Letting that toothless junkie suck his cock haunted him nearly as much as throttling Molly.

Awoken from her drug-induced sleep, Alison Bloggs began screaming obscenities at the top of her voice. She stopped the moment she stuck her head out of her bedroom window and got a glimpse of her visitor. ‘Oh, it’s you, Vin. Wanna come in? Got any booze or puff on ya?’

Little Vinny stared up at the whore with hatred. ‘No I don’t, and no I ain’t. I wanna give Ben a good send-off. My Uncle Michael’s gonna pay for it.’

‘Bit late. Ben was buried yesterday, I think.’

‘Whaddya mean, you think!’

Alison Bloggs shrugged. ‘Some geezer turned up ’ere the other day and said they were burying him.’

‘Didn’t you even go to the funeral?’ Little Vinny asked in astonishment.

‘I weren’t well. They took all me other kids away, Vin. Suicide is a selfish way out. Ben left me right in the shit. Come in, boy. Makes me feel better, your company.’

Pausing only to retch his guts up all over the pavement, Little Vinny ran off as fast as his legs would carry him.

‘How’s it going, bruv?’ Michael asked diplomatically. His mother had made him promise to tread on egg shells during the visit as she didn’t want her number-one son any more upset than he already was.

‘I’m having a wonderful time, Michael. It reminds me of being back at Kings Holiday Park.’

About to order his brother to drop the sarcasm, Michael bit his tongue instead, leaned forward and, using a code they’d worked out over the years for when there were eavesdroppers in the vicinity, told him what Pervy Pat had been up to. Since the day Queenie had told him about Viv’s ordeal, Michael had been having him watched. It turned out the nonce was a creature of habit: every night, regular as clockwork, he frequented the same two boozers. He was working up to telling Vinny how he planned to deal with the bastard when his brother cut him off.

‘How dare that cunt behave in such a way to Auntie Viv! I take that as a personal insult, don’t you? So what ya gonna do about it, little bruv? Only, it weren’t that long ago you nearly shit yourself over a cow mooing the night we sorted Clever Trevor,’ Vinny taunted. Since a very early age it had fallen to him to solve any problem his mother or family might encounter, and he hated the fact that he was helpless in the Ville while scum like Pervy Pat roamed his turf. His little brother had always been a reluctant participant in any heavy violence and he didn’t trust him to take over the reins in his absence – not that he had any choice in the matter.

‘I ain’t no mug, Vin, so please don’t treat me like one. I’ll look after the family, and put it this way, I’m the only fucking guardian your son has at the moment. I’ll sort Pervy Pat, don’t you worry. And while I’m at it I’ll restore our club to its former glory days. We’re losing money hand over fist at the moment, but I have a plan.’

‘What you on about?’ Vinny sneered.

Sick of being treated like a lackey, Michael forgot all about his mother’s earlier warning and came right out with it: ‘I’m thinking of turning the club into a disco. Times have changed over the years and we need to move with ’em. Nobody wants to see live singers these days. I just know I can earn us a fortune by changing things. Trust me on this one.’

The only thing that kept Vinny from reaching across the table and punching his brother was the thought of ending up in solitary confinement. Instead he leaned across the table and hissed, ‘You listen to me, Billy Big Bollocks. That club is my baby, always has been and always will be. Therefore, I decide what’s what. You get my drift? Defy me, Michael, and I swear on my life I will make sure you live to regret it. Now, do we fucking understand one another?’

In the depths of Hainault Forest, Little Vinny was stoned, drunk and extremely morose. He had no idea of the exact spot where Ben had hung himself, but just being there made him feel close to his mate.

Annoyed with himself for doubting Ben’s loyalty, Little Vinny felt he needed to get a few things off his chest. ‘I loved you, pal,’ he shouted into the trees. ‘I weren’t really gonna tell the Old Bill that you had an unhealthy interest in Molly. I did think about saying it, but only because I thought you might’ve grassed. I should’ve known better. You were a top lad. No way would you ever snitch on me.’

Wishing more than anything else in the world that Ben was still alive to reply to him, Little Vinny put his head in his hands and wept. He’d been helping out his Uncle Michael at the club, but he couldn’t really move on with his life just yet. Too much had happened in a short space of time and his head was a complete mess.

Crouching down as if in prayer, Little Vinny made a vow to his pal: ‘I’m gonna get revenge for you, Ben. I know how much you loved your brothers and sisters, and I’ll make sure they don’t suffer like you did. You deserved so much more in life than the shitty cards you were dealt. I know you never killed yourself because of Molly. It was your junkie slag of a mother that drove you to it. Well, I’m gonna sort her out for ya. It’s the least I can do after everything you did for me.’

Pete and Paul had been friends with Roy Butler at school. Back in the sixties when Roy and Vinny had first opened the club, both men had jumped at the chance to work for the Butlers and had remained loyal ever since.

Officially, they were bouncers, but Pete and Paul had always been willing to help out in an unofficial capacity if need be. Even so, they were both gobsmacked when Michael Butler summoned them in for an afternoon meeting and demanded that they kidnap Pervy Pat that very night.

‘It’s a bit rushed, isn’t it, Michael? We’ll need time to sort out an alibi and prepare properly,’ Pete warned.

Though neither of them said it, it wasn’t the suddenness that worried them or even the order itself, it was the fact that Michael was the one issuing it. Although he’d been part of the set-up for years, Vinny had always been the one in charge of dealing with that side of things.

Desperate to make an impression, Michael Butler stood firm. ‘I’ve already sorted out our alibi plus a van, and we already know Pervy Pat’s movements. Billy Higgins is one of our own and that nonce-case needs to be stopped once and for all,’ Michael insisted. He didn’t mention his aunt’s ordeal, as his mother had ordered him not to tell anyone, other than Vinny. ‘Nosy bastards round ’ere will have a field day if they find out Viv got offered a portion of helmet pie,’ she had spluttered. Seeing the doubt in his employees’ eyes annoyed Michael. ‘Not being funny, lads, but Roy is dead, Vinny is banged up for the foreseeable, so I’m your boss now. You in or out?’

Paul and Pete exchanged glances. ‘We’re in, boss,’ Paul confirmed.

Queenie Butler was not in the most patient of moods. She’d done her utmost to cheer her sister up, but Vivian was still as miserable as sin. Viv had got over having a todger waved in her direction. They’d both roared with laughter over that last night. But she’d now gone into meltdown over Billy bloody Higgins. A man she’d barely spoken to for years.

‘I should’ve gone with my instinct and called the police, Queen. If I’d accompanied Janey to the station, she’d have had no need to blurt it out to her family. She didn’t want to tell ’em, but obviously they guessed something was wrong. It’s my fault Billy’s fighting for his life.’

Queenie gritted her teeth. If her memory served her correctly, Vivian hadn’t shed this many tears over poor Molly. ‘For Christ’s sake, snap out of it, Viv. It’s terrible what happened to Janey, but no real harm was done – he only tickled her with his stick, and she’s barely family to us, is she? As for Billy, he’s been living in Rainham for donkey’s years with a heart condition. Been in and out of hospital many a time.’

Shocked by her sister’s outburst, Vivian retaliated: ‘You can be a very cold-hearted person at times, Queenie. Has anybody ever told you that?’

‘You need to get a grip, love, or you’ll end up in that loony bin again if you’re not careful. I spoke to Michael earlier and he’s promised to deal with the matter sooner rather than later, OK?’

Vivian nodded. Ensuring Pervy Pat got his comeuppance was the least she could do for Janey and Billy.

Having waited until it was dark, Little Vinny put the hood up on his jacket and checked nobody was about as he tapped on Alison Bloggs’ front door.

‘I’m so glad you’re here, Vin. I’ve been feeling really depressed.’

Ushering the ugly whore into the hallway, Little Vinny handed her the bottle of vodka he’d stolen from the club. ‘Get that down your neck. It’ll make you feel better,’ he urged.

‘D’ya want me to suck you off again?’ Alison volunteered hopefully. She wasn’t used to gifts unless she gave something in return.

‘Maybe later,’ Little Vinny lied. ‘First I want you to drink that and tell me everything that’s happened.’

Alison began to greedily slurp the neat vodka while describing how Social Services had turned up earlier in the week and taken all her children into care.

‘They’re stopping me child allowance, Vin. How am I gonna manage financially?’ Alison whined, clearly far more concerned about losing the money than having her kids taken away.

Little Vinny sipped his cider and smirked as Alison’s eyelids began to droop. He’d bought a score’s worth of Temazepam off a local dealer and emptied the liquid from the capsules in the vodka bottle.

Putting on an identical pair of Marigold gloves to the ones he’d throttled his sister with, Little Vinny waited until Alison had drunk most of the vodka before plonking himself next to her on the stinking threadbare sofa.

‘That you, Vin? What you doing?’ a sleepy Alison slurred.

‘I’m doing what I should’ve done a long time ago. Snuffing out your miserable existence, you waste of fucking space.’