Nicci shrugged. ‘He’s not all bad. He’s good at sniffing out the psychological angle. You saw that in Southend. And he’s such a pretty boy, women get fooled by that.’
Cheryl gave her a wry glance. ‘Including you Nic?’
Bradley managed to bum a couple of cups of coffee off the SOCOs, who were gathered round their van waiting to go in. He returned to the house with the brimming styrofoam cups, gave a nod to the WPC who was minding Leysa. ‘Go and get a drink if you want.’
The WPC left, Bradley offered Leysa one of the coffees and sat down beside her.
‘DC Mal Bradley.’
Leysa met his eye, he gave her a warm smile. She responded with a sour look. ‘I don’t know nothing.’
Bradley nodded. ‘Been in England long?’
‘Year maybe.’
‘Your English is good.’
She stared at him with disdain, she wasn’t about to respond to cheap flattery.
He smiled again. ‘How d’you get into all this Leysa? You and your husband, you strike me as smart, well-educated people. Not low-life drug dealers. What happened?’
Leysa pursed her lips. ‘You wouldn’t understand.’
Bradley took a sip of his coffee. ‘Try me. I read the papers. Complicated place your country. I read about your ex-prime minister, what’s her name, Yula . . . ?’
‘Yulia Tymoshenko.’
‘Right, now wasn’t she a leader of the Orange Revolution? I’m guessing you had some involvement in all that. But didn’t they jail her for seven years?’
A tight angry expression spread across Leysa’s face, she seemed close to tears. Bradley waited. She wanted to talk, he could feel it.
She wiped her nose with a crumpled tissue. ‘When we lost the election, we knew things would be bad, old Soviet ways would return.’
‘And did they?’
She looked at him, trying to tough it out. She just needed to hang in there. There’d be lawyers, all the help they needed. Joey had promised. Right now though she felt abandoned. He looked rather innocent for a cop. Maybe he would understand. She sighed.
‘Marko lose his job at the university. They steal his research, we have no money, a rich “businessman” take our apartment.’
Bradley frowned as he tried to get his head round this. ‘Why? Because you supported the opposition?’
Leysa hung her head. ‘It was me, I work for Yulia’s campaign.’ A wistful smile crept over her features. ‘Marko, he only happy in his lab. He don’t do politics. But they come against him because of me. It’s all my fault.’
‘So you came to England?’
Leysa fixed him with a steady gaze, but her tone was bitter.
‘Yeah England, this great land of freedom and democracy. We ask for political asylum but you say no. Too many Ukrainians like us looking for a way out.’
Bradley nodded sympathetically. ‘That’s really tough. So let me guess, you needed leave to remain. But for that Marko had to find work and that’s when Joey Phelps came along. How did you meet him?’
Leysa’s gaze didn’t waver, nor did she miss a beat. ‘I don’t know any Joey.’
Bradley tipped out the dregs of his coffee in a plant pot.
‘C’mon Leysa, don’t do this. We were doing really well.’
She flashed an angry look at him. ‘I told you. I don’t know nothing.’
Bradley looked her up and down. She was small with the elfin physique of a marathon runner. Yet she sat slightly hunched, one arm resting protectively across her rounded belly. He watched her for a second then it dawned on him. She was pregnant. He caught her eye.
‘Okay here’s the reality check. Loads of people come to the UK to get away from whatever at home. We’re inundated with people who’ve suffered. We can’t take everyone. You got an industrial-scale drugs lab out the back there. Your husband is going down for quite a stretch. But he’s gonna protect you, isn’t he? Say you didn’t really know what he was up to.’
Leysa stared at him. ‘It’s true. I don’t know nothing. I’m not a chemist.’
Bradley smiled. ‘And we may well decide to accept that . . .’ He paused for effect.
Her dark eyes searched his face for clues. The day had taken her completely by surprise. She’d returned from the supermarket and was unpacking her shopping when armed police burst through the door. She’d been led to believe that this sort of thing didn’t happen in England. She’d had no chance to exchange even a word with Marko, they’d put him in the back of a police car and he was gone.
Bradley sighed. ‘The easiest thing for us would be to put you on a plane to Kiev. That’s what my boss is thinking. You could be home this time tomorrow.’
The colour drained from Leysa’s face and Bradley knew he’d hit the target bang on. Whatever she feared most was back in the Ukraine. Jail? Poverty? A life of hardship for her unborn child? He decided to press the point home.
‘Marko’ll get maybe fifteen years. Then he’ll be deported too on his release. That’ll be when you next see him.’
Her dark eyes swam with tears. Bradley watched the threat sink in. Cruel but necessary he told himself. He wanted to take her hand, reassure her. Instead he adopted a softer tone. ‘You may think I’m a complete bastard, but I’m not. World we live in today is a terrible place for many people. I know I’m lucky to live where I do. I know you’re not a real criminal, you’re just a woman who’s trying to survive.’
Leysa’s tears fell in huge droplets into her lap. She tried to mop them with her sodden tissue. Bradley pulled a fresh one from his jacket pocket and handed it to her. She wiped her eyes and then fixed him with a haunted stare. ‘What do you want?’
Bradley gave a diffident shrug. ‘Well, if you were prepared to give evidence in court, then obviously you’d have to stay here. Case like this could take a year at least to come to trial.’ He gave her a considered look. ‘By that time the baby’ll have been born. It’ll have citizenship, which could help you.’
At the mention of the baby she shot him a savage look. ‘And you say you not a bastard. But you want me to testify against my own husband.’
Bradley shook his head. ‘Oh no, I want you to help your husband. Help him reduce his sentence.’
He watched her latch on to this, hope then confusion racing across her face. This was what he’d been waiting for.
He tossed her the lifeline. ‘Leysa, we know who set you up here in this place, who’s behind all this. You need to testify against Joey Phelps and you need to persuade Marko to do the same. Trust me, it’s your best option.’
64
Glynis sat on the long low sofa in Joey’s flat staring out of the vast picture window at the cityscape beyond. Ashley had wrapped a duvet round her and an untouched mug of tea was on the glass table in front of her. In the time she’d been there the sky had clouded over, the sun disappearing behind a wide sheet of cirrostratus. Watching the clouds thicken had given her something to do while she waited. It would only be a matter of time before Sean came for her. She heard the door open, people coming in, but she didn’t look round, she was too petrified. Then Kaz sat down on the sofa beside her. She took Glynis’s hand. Glynis turned towards her.
‘Where’s Sean?’
Suddenly Joey was looming over them both. He seemed to fill the window, blocking the vista beyond.
‘He’s done a runner Glynis. Spain we think.’
Glynis glanced from him to Kaz. ‘Spain?’
But Kaz’s eyes were focused on her brother. She got up to face him. ‘Joey, this ain’t fair. She deserves to know the truth.’
He stared right back at her, his pupils wide and glassy. He looked about to erupt. Then he just shrugged his shoulders and sighed. ‘Your fucking funeral babes – you killed him. I was only trying to help.’
Glynis’s frantic gaze darted from one to the other. ‘Killed? What’s happened?’
Kaz turned to face her. ‘After Tol took you out of my place Sean tried to rape me. I shot him. He’s dead.’
Glynis’s jaw slackened. A low keening sob rose from deep in her chest. She put her face in her hands and began to wail.
Joey watched her with a disgruntled look. He shoved his hands in his pockets and glared at Kaz. ‘Now what fucking good has that done, eh?’
Kaz ignored him. She rested the palm of her hand on Glynis’s back. After a few moments the lament subsided. Glynis lifted her head, carefully wiped the tears from each cheek with her index fingers, looked at Kaz and slowly nodded. Her voice was barely audible. ‘Thanks.’
Kaz hugged her.
Joey stared at the two women with a look of complete bafflement. He turned round. Ashley was standing in the kitchen area with a phone to his ear. Joey moved towards him, shaking his head in wonderment.
‘You see that Ash? I don’t get it. Do you get it?’
Ashley ignored the question, his expression was tense. He held out the phone. ‘Neville wants a word. Think we got a problem.’
Joey took the phone with a smile. ‘All right Nev?’
As he listened his face crumpled into an angry scowl then he thundered down the phone. ‘Whad’you mean you can’t go yourself? What the fuck else am I paying you for? . . . No Neville, you fucking listen to me. You get down there and you get them out!’
Ashley hovered, alert, waiting for instructions. Kaz and Glynis simply watched open-mouthed. Joey didn’t bother to turn the phone off. He smashed it several times into the granite counter with all the force he could muster.
‘Bastards! Fucking bastards!’
Splinters of shattered phone spun across the worktop and skittered on to the floor. Then he took a deep breath and let the air flow slowly out through his nostrils. ‘Right then . . .’
His intense stare zeroed in on Kaz and he gave her a thin smile.
‘Got a bit of business to attend to babes. But don’t go running off. I need to know where you are.’
She returned his look with a steady gaze. Somehow he didn’t seem like her little brother any more. During her years inside he’d become someone else. She realized now how stupid she’d been not to see this before. Sean was right about that. Her fear had always been he’d turn into the old man, an angry, thoughtless brute. But this was something else. Something far worse.
He continued to stare at her. ‘Okay?’
She nodded obediently.
He smiled. ‘Good girl.’ He patted her arm, grabbed his jacket and headed out with Ashley trotting behind him.
65
Mike Dawson’s train from Oxford got into Paddington shortly before seven in the evening. Bradley had arranged to meet him in a bar he knew near the station, part of the redevelopment around Sheldon Square. He had taken the train back into town, leaving Nicci at Chelmsford nick slowly coaxing a statement out of Leysa.
He’d considered cancelling the meeting with Mike. Stoneham’s team were all pretty psyched. It was a major bust and he was at the heart of it. It made him feel like a proper copper again. The camaraderie, the pats on the back, the belief that this really could lead to a successful prosecution. Bill Mayhew was on his way from London to join in the interrogation of the Dimitrenkos. But Bradley also felt he owed it to Karen Phelps to deliver on his promise. He didn’t know why. It wasn’t as if he was getting anything in return. It just felt like the right thing to do.
He texted his apologies to Mike explaining he’d be a bit late. But still he ran most of the way from the tube station to the bar. As he walked through the double doors he saw Mike settled in a corner booth nursing his pint and across the table from him sat Karen Phelps. Bradley walked towards them with a bemused look on his face.
Mike turned and gave him a mischievous smile. ‘I didn’t realize what a colourful pair I had in my class. Usually it’s teachers and civil servants. But an undercover detective and an ex-con? Quite exciting.’
Bradley cast an enquiring glance in Karen’s direction. She looked pale and tense, she gave him the ghost of a smile.
‘I called Mike. My future, I figured I should be here.’
Bradley had to suppress his annoyance. He could’ve stayed in Chelmsford after all. ‘Anyone for a refill?’
Mike shook his head, but Kaz got up, smiled at Bradley for a second time.
‘I’ll get them. You sit down, you look knackered. What d’you want?’
Bradley was playing catch-up in his head. Karen Phelps expressing concern like a normal person was a new experience for him.
‘Umm, yeah. A pint of lager thanks.’
Bradley sat down as Kaz went to the bar. Mike watched her then inclined his head.
‘I knew there was something between you two. But I thought you just fancied her.’
Bradley gave him a wry smile. ‘Maybe I do. Stupid, eh?’
‘She’s been telling me about her family and her upbringing. Sounds like a complete nest of vipers.’
‘Yeah that’s quite a good word for them. Vipers are ruthless killers, aren’t they?’
Mike tilted his head sadly. ‘There’s a whole world out there that most of us only read about in the papers.’
Bradley leant forward across the table. ‘If you can help her Mike then you probably would be saving her life.’
Mike coughed, the raspy gravel from a lifetime of nicotine rumbled through his chest. But his eyes twinkled, he was excited. ‘I’ll certainly do my damnedest. Never expected to find the artistic equivalent of Jean Genet in my own backyard.’
Bradley laughed. ‘Don’t tell her that. Her head will swell.’
Kaz returned to the table with a pint of lager and a coffee for herself.
Bradley took a long draught, wiped his mouth neatly with his fingers and turned to Mike. ‘Okay, what we thought is you’ve taught at various places in the States. You’ve got contacts. What are the chances of getting Karen in somewhere over there?’
Mike raised his eyebrows and puffed out his cheeks. ‘The States? I’ve got more influence this side of the pond. Be much simpler to have a word with our own admissions tutor.’
Kaz was about to speak. She seemed to Bradley to have lost her usual stroppy attitude and the confidence that went with it. Her eyes glinted with tears, she swallowed hard; telling the truth wasn’t going to be an easy habit to acquire.
‘The thing is Mike, my brother . . . he’s a psychopath.’ She glanced at Bradley, jutted her chin, partly in defiance but also to control the quiver in her voice. ‘It’s taken me a while to . . . to really see this. I need to get as far away from him as I can. I’m sorry, this probably sounds like some kind of con to get into some posh American college that wouldn’t look twice at me otherwise.’
Mike fixed her with his eagle eye, reached out and put his claw-like fingers over hers. ‘No it doesn’t.’ He pondered then grinned. ‘One of my oldest friends is a professor at the Pratt Institute in New York. I’ll call him as soon as I get home. I’ll scan some of your work and send it. I think he’ll recognize your potential as much as I do.’
Kaz’s jaw slackened. She couldn’t believe what he was saying. ‘The Pratt Institute?’
‘You’ve heard of it?’
Kaz nodded. She’d heard of it all right. She’d found its website, back inside when she used all her allotted IT time trawling the Net in search of dreams to inspire her. It was full of images of cool, rich students and exciting art.
Bradley glanced from one to the other. ‘I haven’t.’
‘It’s . . .’ Kaz had a look he’d never seen on her face before, that of a wide-eyed kid.
Mike smiled and helped her out. ‘It’s a good school, as they say over there.’
‘Even if I could get in how the hell would I pay for it?’
Mike took a slug of his pint, he was enjoying himself. This is what teaching was all about for him, finding the Kaz Phelpses of this world and helping them on their way.
‘Good schools have big endowment funds, which means scholarships. Anyway I’m sure we can find some philanthropic bunch of Yanks who are into supporting reforme
d criminals.’ Mike gave a dry chuckle. ‘I’m presuming you are reformed.’
Kaz returned his look with a bleak smile. ‘The other big hurdle is my probation officer. I’m released on licence. They’d have to agree.’
Mike pondered this then his eyes crinkled into a smile. ‘Last year chap came to the summer school – as I say we get a lot of civil servants. He bought a couple of my own paintings, we’ve kept in touch. He’s the senior, permanent head-something-or-other at the Ministry of Justice. I’ll give him a ring. Tell him we need his help in the interests of art.’
Bradley beamed. ‘You think he’ll listen to you?’
Mike gave him an impish grin. ‘Haven’t I taught you anything Mal? What matters is what you see, the way things look, the world of appearances. Wonderful PR coup for them, of course they’ll listen.’
Bradley hailed a cab for Mike. He and Kaz stood side by side on the pavement as it drove off.
Kaz started to smile and shake her head. ‘Scariest-looking geezer I’ve ever met. But he turns out to be the most all right bloke there is.’
Bradley gave her a teasing glance. ‘That’s the world of appearances for you.’
They both laughed. Bradley looked her up and down. She’d relaxed a bit, but she still looked wired and tense. Her face was pale and drawn.
He cocked his head. ‘You all right?’
She sighed. ‘Yeah. Stressful couple of days is all.’
He nodded. ‘Is Sean still giving you grief?’
She shot him a wary look. ‘No, he’s . . . I dunno. He’s gone off. Haven’t seen him.’
Bradley seemed to be scanning her face, it made her nervous. She knew the mask had slipped and she needed time and calm in order to get it back in place. She felt like shit. Was he suspicious or was she being paranoid? She wanted to run.
He gave her a warm smile. ‘Don’t look so worried. I think there’s an odds-on chance this’ll work.’
Kaz nodded. ‘And you’re still not going to ask for anything in return?’
Bradley raised his eyebrows. ‘Nope.’
They started to walk down the street towards the tube. He smiled. ‘Although . . . purely for my own satisfaction I wouldn’t mind knowing how you’ve come to change your mind about Joey.’
Informant Page 33