Chapter Thirteen
Vinnie managed to keep to the posted speed limits, despite being all pumped up on adrenalin and wanting to floor it like a Formula One race car driver. He always did fancy himself a Tiff Needell sort of bloke and reckoned he’d be a real natural on the telly too. If things had been different and he hadn’t come off a rough council estate and ended up in the nick, there was no telling where he’d be by now. The birds would’ve been coming out of the woodwork if he had the fame to go with the swagger! They all liked a bit of rough, especially them posh ones. Not that Vinnie Clark couldn’t pull a posh bird if he had a mind to. He had plenty of rough to go around—and he didn’t mind spreading the wealth either.
“Another job well done, ay, Des, me old son?” he chirped, feeling wel
