Informant

by Susan Wilkins

  ‘She okay?’

  ‘No. She’s a mess.’

  Bradley followed her down the hall into the open-plan living space. Kaz picked up a sweatshirt, pulled it on, folded her arms and turned to face him. Despite the bruises from her encounter with Sean, she looked good in her jaunty PJs, comfortable in her body. There was never anything girly or fey about her, the look was straight defiance and Bradley realized this was what he liked. It didn’t matter how tough things got, she stood her ground.

  He ran a hand through his unruly curls. This time he wasn’t trying to con her, the dazzling smile came naturally. ‘First up I want to apologize.’

  ‘Yeah? What for?’ She stared at him very directly, she wasn’t giving an inch.

  ‘For what I said about leaving it to Joey. I don’t really think you’d get your brother to kill Sean.’

  ‘Why not? Solve everyone’s problems, wouldn’t it? Including yours.’

  ‘I don’t think you’re as hard a nut as you make out.’

  Kaz laughed drily, retreated to the sofa and sat down. ‘Cut the crap Bradley. Just tell me why you’re here.’

  He pulled up a dining chair. ‘Okay, here’s the idea. Mike Dawson, the guy who ran the drawing class . . .’

  ‘I know who he is.’

  ‘Tomorrow I go and see him. Show him the badge, tell him I’m a police officer and I talk to him about you, your family, trying to make a fresh start.’

  Kaz huffed. ‘What the fuck’s it got to do with him?’

  ‘He’s seen your work, he knows what you’re capable of. He can help you walk away from all this.’

  Kaz cocked her head contemptuously. ‘Oh yeah. How?’

  Bradley leant forward in his seat, smiled as he warmed to his theme.

  ‘That bloody drawing class – I spent a lot of time hanging round, waiting for you to show up, y’know. Me and Mike, we had quite a few chats. He’s spent loads of time in the States, used to teach over there, various art schools. He goes back all the time to see his mates.’

  Kaz folded her arms again. ‘I don’t see what this has got to . . .’

  ‘Point is he could maybe help you get a place in a college over there. As a student. Get you out of this country, away from Sean, away from Joey. Karen, this could be your escape route.’

  Kaz smiled, shook her head cynically. ‘You fix this for me? And what do I have to do in return? Let me guess.’

  ‘No.’ Bradley held up his palms. ‘Absolutely nothing. No strings attached. I swear.’

  Kaz stared at him hard. ‘I don’t get it.’

  He held her gaze. There was only a single lamp on in the room, so not enough light for her to see the moistening of his eyes.

  ‘I’m . . .’ He swallowed hard. ‘Well, I guess I’m trying to help you here. Proper help, real help. No deals, no tricks. You go to college in the States, you leave the family, Joey, the past behind you.’ He sighed deeply. ‘You’ve served your time. I reckon you deserve the chance to make a life for yourself.’

  As Kaz digested this her penetrating gaze never left his face. He seemed quite emotional but he was probably pissed. What was his angle? She couldn’t figure it. Finally she took a deep breath, got up.

  ‘Want a cup of coffee? Might sober you up a bit.’

  ‘Yeah cheers.’ He smiled. ‘But y’know, this is not booze talking.’

  She went over to the sink, filled the kettle and slotted it back on to its base. She turned to face him.

  ‘It’s a nice idea, but you’re forgetting one thing. I’m released on licence. Next six years I got to keep my nose clean and my probation officer happy. Can’t see them letting me swan off to the States.’

  Bradley considered this. ‘I’ve known of instances of offenders getting permission to travel abroad, even lifers. It depends on the circumstances and the perceived risk.’

  Kaz lifted down two mugs from the cupboard.

  ‘Okay, even if I could wangle some special deal, what’s it going to cost? An arm and a leg. Plus I don’t think they’re about to take someone like me with one AS-level she got in the nick.’

  Bradley stood up, shovelled his hands in his jeans pockets. ‘Yeah I know it won’t be easy, but that’s where Mike comes in. They’ll see your drawings, but most of all they’ll listen to Mike’s recommendation. And there are all sorts of scholarships and bursaries available. Ex-con turns into a brilliant artist – the Americans love all that.’

  Kaz smiled. ‘You got it all figured out, haven’t you?’

  ‘It could work.’

  ‘Does Woodentop know about this? Or your snotty mate Nicci?’

  ‘No one knows. Or need ever know. This’ll just be between you and me and Mike.’

  ‘And the probation service.’

  ‘Okay, them too. But the ones I’ve met go out of their way to avoid cops.’

  Kaz spooned coffee granules into two mugs. ‘I gotta say Bradley, I didn’t think you could surprise me. But you have. I don’t know what angle you’re working here but it’s slick . . .’

  He took two urgent steps towards her. ‘There is no angle. That’s the angle. The lies, the deals, the tricks – I’ve had enough. Why should your life go down the pan so we can get Joey? I don’t think the end does justify the means.’

  Realizing he was looming over her, he took a step back. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to . . . y’know.’ He turned away, ran his hand through his hair.

  Kaz watched him and wondered: was he being straight with her? Or had they merely come up with a more astute way of wooing her? Play the long game, make her grateful to Bradley so they did really become mates? She thought about the States, living in New York. If this was the bait it was a smart choice.

  She poured boiling water into the coffee mugs. ‘Milk?’

  ‘Yeah, cheers, just a dash.’

  She milked the coffees and handed him one.

  He gave her a warm smile. ‘Thanks.’

  She returned to the sofa, settled herself in one corner. ‘Okay, say I buy all this – which I’m not saying I do – where’s that leave you?’

  Bradley took a sip of the coffee. ‘I’m thinking of putting my papers in. You’ve said it yourself, I’m a crap cop. Maybe I’ll go off and do some travelling myself. I got cousins in Australia, I wouldn’t mind seeing that part of the world. After that, who knows?’

  Kaz watched him as he prowled the room with the coffee mug in his hand. If this was all an act he’d suddenly become very good at it. She found herself looking at him more closely, observing with the artist’s eye. He was tall and rangy with a nervous energy, the type of bloke who was never going to get fat. And he was used to women fancying him, there was a cocksure look in his eye, an expectation that his overtures would be reciprocated. But at the same time he was totally different to the men she’d encountered in her life before. They’d simply scared or revolted her, beginning with her own father.

  Bradley was a new experience, but what was it about him? If you set aside the fact he was a cop, being around him was never awkward or uncomfortable. It felt a bit like being with Joey, except there was something else, a physical tension in the pit of her stomach, a pleasant lassitude. Kaz realized with a jolt that it was sexual, a definite sexual buzz. Bradley gave off a whiff of some kind of sexual pheromone and it hit her on a purely physical level. She found herself imagining what it would be like to have sex with him. It wasn’t anything to do with passion or the painful longing she had just to be close to Helen. This was happening on a completely separate plane.

  It had never occurred to Kaz that sexual attraction could be such a simple animal thing. All her sexual encounters with men had been freighted with coercion and violence. But she didn’t find Bradley in the least bit frightening, nor did she like him particularly. If anything she thought he was soft in the head. The whole thing was a complete conundrum.

  He was aware of her watching him and he turned, gave her a nervous smile. ‘So what d’you reckon? Want me to go and see Mike tomorrow, see if
I can make this thing happen?’

  Kaz folded her arms. The prospect of going to the States flashed through her brain, but what if it was all a con? Well, there was only one way to find out. She shrugged with as much nonchalance as she could muster.

  ‘Yeah. You could give it a go.’

  55

  Sean Phelps and Neville Moore walked out of Basildon Police Station shortly after eight o’clock the next morning. Four officers from Sussex Police had taken turns to try and run Sean into the ground with a marathon interrogation session, but he’d remained calm and polite, enjoying the fact that for once he was telling the truth. Neville kept insisting on regular breaks and at the end of it all they came out looking far better than the frazzled and frustrated cops.

  Sean took in a lungful of morning air, summer had faded and there was a decided autumnal chill. He clapped his hands together, the custody sergeant had kitted him out with an old tracksuit to put over his pyjamas.

  He smiled at Neville. ‘Fancy a spot of breakfast before you get off?’

  Neville rubbed his fingers over the stubble on his jaw. He was not a man who liked to be grubby. ‘Thanks, but I need to call the office and my wife.’

  Sean nodded. Neville Moore was always professional to a T, but he didn’t do chummy.

  ‘Wives, yeah,’ he sighed. ‘Well mine thinks I tried to off her boyfriend. What the fuck am I gonna do about that?’

  Neville fixed him with a direct look. ‘Take my advice Sean: do nothing. The police aren’t finished with this yet, not by a long chalk.’

  Sean huffed impatiently. ‘I know, but where’s that leave me, eh? I get out the nick, find she’s been lying to me for years. Okay, we have a bit of a ruck about it. I clumped her, I’ll admit that. But she’s my wife, I’d never do her any real harm. I gotta make this right with her Neville.’

  Neville took out a linen handkerchief and wiped his face, it had been a long night, he wanted to wrap this up, get in his car and drive back to London. ‘We don’t even know where she is.’

  ‘Oh I can take a guess.’

  ‘I’d wait for her to come home if I were you.’

  Sean gave him a speculative glance. ‘Look, you was brilliant, done the business as always. But do me one last favour before you go.’

  Neville laughed, shook his head. ‘All right – as long as I can bill you for it!’

  ‘You know me. I know how to be grateful. All I need now is for you to get on the blower to your office, find out my cousin’s new address.’

  ‘Joey? He lives in Southwark near the Tate Modern.’

  ‘Not Joey. Karen’s got herself a new place apparently.’

  ‘And you think that’s where Glynis’ll be?’

  ‘Good chance.’

  Neville sucked in a long breath through his teeth. Strictly speaking he should refuse, Karen wasn’t even his client. But saying no to Sean Phelps would put him in an awkward position. He was fairly convinced that Sean was telling the truth when he said he hadn’t shot Dave Harper. They could all do stony-faced but he’d dealt with enough serious criminals to read the telltale body language. Sean wanted to sort things out with his wife, he could sympathize with that. Moreover, sympathizing with Sean was the more lucrative option, gangsters like him expected to pay over the odds for a deluxe service and that’s what kept the firm afloat in the face of massive cutbacks in the government’s legal aid budget. As to the domestic abuse, Neville found it personally distasteful, but that was part of the culture with people like the Phelpses and Glynis knew that as well as anyone.

  Having taken a rapid inventory of the pros and cons, Neville sighed.

  ‘Okay, I’ll get the address. Go and talk to her by all means.’ He raised an admonitory finger. ‘But that’s it – no rough stuff, right? Because you give this lot the least excuse, they’ll revoke your licence and you’re back inside.’

  Sean opened his palms. ‘Swear to God. She’s my wife. I love her.’

  Neville wondered what love meant to a man like Sean Phelps. He didn’t think there’d be much kindness involved. But he still took out his mobile, rang the office and asked for Helen Warner’s PA.

  56

  Kaz stirred scrambled eggs round one of her borrowed pans, she’d just about got the measure of the ceramic hob. The eggs set but remained light and fluffy, she felt pleased with her efforts as she spooned them on to two pieces of buttered toast. After Bradley had left she’d lain awake for some hours juggling hopes and possibilities. Part of her wanted to believe in his sincerity, but experience told her that it was probably all bollocks and she’d be a fool to even let herself dream.

  Nevertheless his offer and the vista it opened up had set her thinking: if there was a real chance to walk away, would she take it? Since Helen had dumped her flat she’d been in a spin most of the time. Angry and resentful she’d turned to Joey; at least he wanted her. But she knew in her heart that he too was selling her a fairy story. All this talk about using the Net and eventually turning the firm legit: Joey was a drug dealer, that’s what he was good at. She’d seen him at the cannabis factory and the lab, he enjoyed it. He was smarter, richer maybe, but it was still the old man’s world and denial had always been the name of the game. Every villain Kaz’d ever met called himself a businessman; it was just part of the con.

  If she’d learnt anything in the last six years, it was that she liked waking up every morning clean and sober. And she liked art. Feeling the texture of cartridge paper as her pencil skated across it, the smell of paint, mixing blue and yellow to create green – these were Helen’s gifts to her. With Helen she’d also discovered what it was like to be totally honest with someone. It had given her such a feeling of relief when she’d told Helen the truth about Southend. But where did that leave her now? Caught between two worlds.

  Suddenly Bradley’s mad plan seemed very attractive.

  Glynis was sitting up in bed sipping a mug of tea. She didn’t look that good, but on the other hand she didn’t look half dead and desperate any more. Kaz settled the plate of scrambled egg and toast in her lap.

  ‘There you go. Want you to eat at least half.’

  Glynis smiled, her lip quivered. She reached out for Kaz’s hand. ‘I meant to say before . . . y’know I’m really . . . really grateful for all this.’

  ‘You did say before, now eat up before it gets cold.’

  ‘I been thinking about burying Dave. I’d like him to have a nice send-off.’

  ‘Could be a while before they release the body.’

  Glynis took a tentative mouthful of egg. Kaz sat down on the side of the bed and started on her own plate. Glynis winced as she tried to chew. She put down the fork.

  ‘I was only a kid when I got with Sean. I thought he was great, such a man’s man. He’d’ve thought Dave was a right pussy. He asked me if I really loved him.’

  ‘What – Sean asked you?’

  ‘Yeah. We had quite a ruck about it. So I told him Dave was the love of my life.’

  ‘Was he?’

  Glynis leant back against her pillow. ‘Nah, he was a lovely bloke. Kind. Being with him was easier. But I always went for the bad boys.’ A wistful look crept into her eyes. ‘Sean and your dad, they was always exciting to be around. You was guaranteed to have a laugh.’

  Kaz gave her a sceptical look. ‘Guaranteed a shedload of grief too.’

  Glynis gazed out of the window, lost in memory somewhere. The side of her face was one huge mottled bruise, red, violet and yellow. The colours were vibrant, Kaz imagined painting her. Glynis looked down at her plate and sighed.

  Kaz was scraping the plates and loading the dishwasher when she heard a soft tap at the front door. She checked her watch: it was nearly ten thirty. Bradley had promised to return as soon as he’d spoken to Mike Dawson, but Kaz hadn’t really expected that to be before midday. And she wished he’d use the bloody entryphone. Still, she felt a secret surge of excitement as she went to answer the door. Had Mike agreed to help her? Was there really a c
hance she could be going to the States?

  She didn’t want to open herself up too much to Bradley so she was concentrating on playing it cool as she unhooked the chain. Without warning the door flew back in her face, the hinges cracking away from the frame under the impact of a heavy boot. It knocked her sideways, she had to reach for the wall to stop herself falling. As she scrabbled to retain her footing Sean Phelps filled the doorway. He’d showered and shaved, black shirt, black leather jacket and he had Tolya at his back. He beamed, grabbing her arm to steady her.

  ‘Careful little cousin. You’ll do yourself a mischief.’

  Kaz wrenched herself free, anger masking her fear. ‘What the fuck you playing at? Look what you done to my bloody door!’

  ‘Sorry sweetheart. I know it’s a bit over the top. But I had this odd feeling you might not be that pleased to see me. Tell me I’m wrong.’

  ‘Wrong don’t even begin to sum you up Sean. You was wrong the day you was born.’

  He tipped back his head and laughed, his teeth sharp and jagged, like a small rodent. ‘See? This is what I like about her Tol – more balls than any bloke.’

  Tolya gave him a vague smile.

  Sean sighed and turned to Kaz. ‘I don’t think he understands half what I say.’

  ‘What d’you want Sean?’ Kaz glared at him. She needed a way out. But Tolya was blocking her escape. ‘’Cause I’m expecting Joey.’

  ‘Yeah? That why you’re half dressed?’ He ran his gaze down over her body. ‘I’m not saying you don’t look appealing . . .’

  Kaz took a deep breath, both to calm herself and to create the impression she was unconcerned. ‘I was just getting dressed.’

  She turned on her heel and stalked off down the hall.

  Sean had an amused smile playing around his lips. He gave Tolya a nod and they followed Kaz into the living room.

  Sean glanced around appreciatively. ‘Nice gaff. I presume I’m paying for this.’

  ‘Joey paid for it.’

  Sean grinned. ‘That’s what I mean. Out the firm – my firm.’