‘Pretty much the same as everyone else.’

Mary was as amazed as her husband about the turn of events. In fairness, Cynthia had saved the day; if it wasn’t for her the chances were Celeste would be dead now and the thought upset Mary so much she had to swallow down the urge to cry.

The mess had been cleaned up at the house by all accounts, but Celeste still refused to go back there. Well, she could understand that – what she couldn’t understand was why Celeste was staying with Cynthia and not with her? They were like Siamese twins nowadays – where Cynthia went, Celly followed.

Jonny Parker was too wise to do anything about that just yet; he knew that Celeste needed time to get over what had happened to her. Plus, Mary guessed shrewdly, he would be grateful to have Celly off his hands while he cleaned up the mess he had caused by his greediness. For once Mary agreed with her husband. This was something that should have been avoided at all costs. It had left a bad taste in a lot of people’s mouths.

Kevin Bryant might not have been liked, but he had been respected. It was only the fact that he had gone after a defenceless woman that had stopped the other crime bosses in London from retaliating on his behalf. She bet they were watching their backs now. They would need to and all; Jonny had half the Smoke at his disposal. Kevin Bryant was dead and his business partner Bertie Warner had disappeared completely. She suspected they were sharing the same grave somewhere and she hoped they would rot in hell for what they had tried to do to her poor daughter. Bastards, the pair of them. No one went after wives or kiddies – it was the unwritten law.

Chapter Thirty-Four

‘No one has seen him, Jonny, it’s like he dropped off the face of the earth.’

‘What about his wife and kids?’

‘House is empty, hardly even any clothes packed. I’ve got people keeping an eye out in Spain and Portugal but, in reality, he could be fucking anywhere.’

Detective Inspector Jones was as bent as a nine-bob note, and he knew that he was expected to give his main benefactor Jonny Parker something substantial for the money he was paid on a weekly basis, but there was nothing. It was the gospel truth – he had not been able to locate the man, or his family.

‘Bertie would have a fallback plan, he probably had passports, et cetera waiting for just such an eventuality. All we can do is wait and see if anyone recognises him, or he commits a crime somewhere and we get wind of it. As I say, Jonny, he could be anywhere. South America, maybe? They would welcome the cunt with open arms – look at Biggsy.’