The Informant (17 page)

‘Here is your eyeline, which wants to be two thirds up the board, so you can look back and forth, continually back and forth from the drawing to the model. Got it? Here to
there.’

He jabbed his finger in the direction of the dais. A fit young man in a bathrobe and odd socks had appeared and was rearranging the cushions. This attracted Dawson’s attention. He tutted
and strode over to the young man.

‘No no, we don’t want a neat pile, neat is boring Leo. What we need is disarray! Disarray!’

Kaz gazed around the room, it was filling up with other students. A small oriental girl took the easel on her left, they exchanged polite nods. This was the normal world, away from police
stations and prison cells and trouble. It was where Kaz so desperately wanted to be. It was freedom. Kaz started to unpack her bag, getting out her box of charcoals and tin of pencils. Her first
proper art class and here at the Slade, of all places. She had to admit she was feeling nervous, but also excited. She opened her sketchbook, tore out a sheet of cartridge and started to tape it to
the board.

‘Is this easel taken?’

She glanced to her right and did a double-take. Mal Bradley had dumped his bag beside the adjacent easel and was beaming at her. She stood rooted to the spot just glaring at him. She really
couldn’t believe it. She wanted to punch him.

‘What the fuck you doing here?’

He looked offended. ‘That’s not a very friendly way to greet a fellow student.’

Kaz was about to respond to this when Mike Dawson returned.

‘Aah great, this is Mal. He can show you the ropes. When we started the week he was an absolute beginner, but he’s coming on in leaps and bounds. He’s really loosened up.
Though when you didn’t show yesterday, Mal, I thought you might’ve thrown in the towel.’

Bradley grinned. ‘No Mike, you’ve converted me. Something came up at work, had to pop in.’

Mike gave a gravelly laugh, which dissolved into a fit of coughing. ‘Problems on the money markets eh? Fucking wanker bankers. Still, you’re going to buy one of my paintings,
aren’t you Mal?’ Chortling to himself, he wandered off.

Bradley grinned at Kaz. ‘Bit of a weird bloke, but he knows his stuff. Even got me drawing and I was completely crap before.’

Kaz stared at him, her chest was tight, she felt she might choke. She picked up her bag and headed out.

‘Where you going?’

‘To the bog. Gonna follow me there too?’

Kaz discovered that the women’s toilets were on the ground floor. She booted open the door of an empty stall and locked herself in. She realized she had tears in her
eyes. Was it rage, frustration? She couldn’t decide. Would she ever be free of these bastards? She got out her phone, she should call Helen, get this scumbag off her back in a proper, legal
way. But she hesitated. She’d had no chance to really talk to Helen the day before. She’d wanted to explain, she’d wanted to feel that Helen was still on her side. But everything
had started to unravel.

That fat cop Stoneham was probably right, she was to blame for Jez’s death. She’d completely lost it when she saw what had happened to Natalie and she’d turned that anger on
her brother. She’d accused him, she’d really had a go. Like when they were kids and the old man used to lay into them for some trivial misdemeanour. Kaz remembered letters coming from
school, the ponce of a head teacher going on about Joey playing truant or some schoolboy prank. Terry Phelps would be mad at the school, but he also hated the way it reflected on him. He would
thrash Joey, knocking the boy round the room until he was bruised and bleeding. Then he’d tell Joey that the punishment wasn’t for what he’d done, but for getting caught and
showing up his family as a consequence.

It dawned on Kaz that she’d behaved just like the old man; she felt so bad in herself, so responsible for what had happened to Natalie that she’d dumped it all on Joey. She’d
used him as her punch bag, much as the old man did. And she’d made him feel ashamed, as if he’d let her down. But Joey wasn’t a kid any more, he wasn’t going to curl up in a
ball and take the kicking and to make that point to her he’d killed Jez Harris. He’d done it, but it was her fault.

Kaz sat in the wooden cubicle, staring at the graffiti hacked into the door, wondering how on earth she was going to explain any of this to Helen. Could she ever? How would Helen understand? How
could anybody who hadn’t lived their life in the Phelps family?

She wasn’t surprised when she came out of the toilets to find Mal Bradley leaning against the wall. He smiled at her.

‘Class is about to start. Mike asked me to make sure you hadn’t got lost.’

Kaz gave him a sceptical glance. ‘As if.’

‘Actually I was worried. Thought you might be considering jacking it all in.’

This stopped Kaz in her tracks. ‘’Cause of you? Don’t flatter yourself.’

‘I do genuinely want to help you. That’s why I’m here.’

‘You’re stalking me, how’s that help?’

Bradley pondered this. ‘Well, it’s more honest than covert surveillance.’

Kaz headed for the lift, Bradley followed. The heavy metal mesh gate stood open, Kaz stepped inside.

‘The stunt you pulled with those pictures, that was sick.’

Bradley hauled the gate shut, it clanked into place, he hit the button and with a shudder the lift started to rise.

‘You’re right, I owe you an apology. I was trying to manipulate you, play on your conscience. Why? Because I know you have a conscience. You’re not like him Karen.’

Kaz took a step forward, Bradley was maybe an inch taller, but she was right in his face. Her eyes bored straight into his. ‘Sure about that? How d’you know I’m not gonna get
pissed off with this, borrow a gun from one of my brother’s “associates” and shoot a fucking hole in the middle of your chest? ’Cause that’s what us villains do,
innit? Least in your book.’ She jabbed her finger into his sternum.

Bradley smiled. His dark liquid eyes rested gently on her face. ‘I’m not the enemy Karen.’

‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not some stupid poncey girl who’s gonna swoon in your arms.’

He laughed. ‘Yeah, I think I already figured we’re on a hiding to nothing with that.’

‘My lawyer could have you for sexual harassment y’know.’

He held up his hands. ‘Be fair, I never laid a finger on you.’

‘Why the fuck should I play fair? You lot are out to make my life a fucking misery ’til you get what you want. I’m being stalked by an undercover cop. Maybe I should take my
story to the papers. That’d piss Woodentop off I’ll bet.’

The lift clunked to a halt. Kaz seized the handle to the gate and hauled it open. She was straight out and striding down the corridor. Bradley had to trot to catch up with her.

‘Strictly speaking I’m not undercover, ’cause you guessed I was a cop as soon as you saw me. So I’m not lying to you about who I am.’

Kaz glared at him. ‘You’re lying to people here though, ain’t you? To the tutor, what’s-his-face, Mike?’

Bradley fell into step beside her. ‘To tell you the truth, it’s my first attempt at all this and you’re right, I am crap. Total crap.’

They’d reached the door to the studio, the class had already begun. Leo was striking an action pose, balancing a ball in one hand, leaning on a stick with the other. The muscles in his
back rippled with the strain. The room was silent but for the furious scratching and scraping of charcoal on paper.

Kaz turned and eyeballed Bradley, she kept her voice low. ‘Know how hard it’s been for me to get here, to a place like this, to a proper college, where you can just draw all day?
Actually learn something. I don’t give a monkey’s about you, Woodentop; bring the whole fucking Met down here if you like, you’re not robbing me of this as well.’

Bradley sighed. ‘No one’s trying to Karen. But people have been murdered, including, I suspect, Jez Harris. My job is to find a way to stop it.’ His look was deadly serious
now, any hint of flirtatiousness gone. ‘So however much you or your lawyer huff and puff we’re not going to go away. Sooner or later we’ll get the forensics or the witnesses to
convict Joey and send him to jail. What you have to decide is whether you’re going down with him.’

Bradley’s eye travelled in an arc round the quiet studio.

‘You go on backing him you’ll lose all this, all your dreams. It’s your choice.’

The bar was close to Hoxton Square and at six thirty it was standing-room only. It was a new venue building a reputation on arty cocktails at City prices and the last place Kaz
wanted to be after her first gruelling day in the studio. Joey had bombarded her with texts and voicemails insisting that she should come down. He had a surprise for her. It would blow her mind.
She was reluctant but she hadn’t spoken to him since he walked out of Southend nick in a huff.

Dog-tired, it was an effort to drag herself, her bag and her unwieldy A3 sketchpad through the chattering crush. Bradley was right about one thing, Mike Dawson knew his stuff. His students may
be a bunch of amateurs, hobbyists and wannabes like her, however, Dawson paid them the compliment of treating them exactly the same as his proper art students. That meant half a dozen lightning
poses, followed by a four-hour study of Leo lounging on the mountain of cushions like a dozing pasha.

Kaz had never spent so long on one drawing before. It was hard but exhilarating. She forgot about everything: Joey, her sister, the cops and their machinations. She even found herself glancing
over at Bradley’s drawing and feeling a competitive buzz; he became just another student.

Dawson toured the room offering each of them comments and advice. The first time he came to Kaz he stood at her shoulder for several minutes, his eyes half closed, scrutinizing the drawing. Then
he glanced at her, looked her up and down, assessing, pondering. He gave her a small smile. ‘Yeah . . .’ Nodded his head slowly and wandered off. She didn’t know what to make of
it.

Bradley gave her a mocking glance. ‘Well look at you. Teacher’s pet eh?’

Kaz caught sight of Joey at a corner table. Ashley was in attendance, but Joey was lording it. A bottle of Cristal in his hand he was topping up champagne flutes held by two giggling girls, a
blonde and a brunette, shoulder-length hair, thigh-high skirts. Kaz huffed to herself, she hadn’t come all this way to watch Joey pull. Her hands were filmed with charcoal, probably her face
too, she felt a mess. She wanted to get home to her snug room at the hostel and take a long shower.

But at the sight of her Joey was on his feet waving her over, drawing her into the group.

‘Hey, this is my sister. She’s an art student too.’

Joey pointed at the girls, trawling his memory for names. ‘Chloe and . . .’ Kaz didn’t catch the rest, it was drowned out by the general cacophony.

The blonde gave Kaz a superior smile, flicked back her shining mane.

‘Awesome. Where you studying? I’m at Goldsmiths.’

Kaz considered telling her the truth for about five seconds. But as she took in the posh accent, the mix of designer labels and ethnic accessories she changed her mind. She returned the
smile.

‘Doing an MA. At the Slade.’

The blonde nodded, trying not to look outgunned.

‘Cool.’

Kaz dumped her bag and sketchbook at Ashley’s feet.

‘Look after these Ash, I need a word with my brother.’ She beckoned to Joey, he put down the Cristal and followed her obediently out of the bar and onto the pavement. They picked
their way through the huddle of smokers crowding the doorway and found a quiet spot.

Kaz scowled. ‘So what you got to say to me now eh? Still pissed off, are you?’

Joey put his head to one side, gave her a sheepish grin. ‘I was out of order babes . . .’

‘Yeah, you were. I got the filth on my back, fucking stalking me, thanks to you . . .’

‘It took me by surprise is all, seeing him down the nick. And you said you’d slept with him.’

‘I didn’t say that. You assumed and I let you. Why? ’Cause you had plans to set me up with Ashley! Stud fucking muffin Ashley.’

Joey couldn’t help laughing. ‘He ain’t that bad.’

‘I ain’t that desperate.’

Joey chuckled some more. ‘Well if you put it like that . . . Look, I knew you wouldn’t’ve slept with a copper really. I, y’know . . . well. I dunno . . .’

He gazed at her, gave her the innocent little-boy look, which she knew was the nearest he was ever going to get to an outright apology. ‘That’s why I wanted you to come down here. So
I could make it up to you.’

‘Joey, I’m knackered. All I want is to go home.’

‘I got a surprise. Me and Ash been doing a bit of research. Talking to a few contacts round here. You’re gonna love this. Ready to be really surprised?’

Kaz exhaled. Joey in Santa Claus mode was not what she needed. He beamed from ear to ear, held out his hands. ‘I got you . . . an exhibition.’

Kaz stared at him. ‘What?’

‘Some fellas I know own a bit of property round here. Mate of theirs runs a gallery. Literally just up the road from here. Been to see him, explained about you. He’s agreed to give
you an exhibition.’

Kaz blew out her cheeks, then she laughed. ‘Joe, I’m starting college. I haven’t got anything to put in a fucking exhibition.’

‘Well, you could knock up a few bits.’

‘I’m not ready yet. I’m a student.’

Joey seemed nonplussed. ‘I tell you, them girls you met – Chloe and her mate, can’t remember her name – well, they’re students too and I can tell you they’ll
shag anyone or anything they think can give them an exhibition.’

Kaz laughed out loud, patted his arm. Any tension between them had evaporated. He meant well, she could see that. He genuinely was trying to make it up to her.

She smiled at him. ‘Look babes, I appreciate the effort. I do.’

Joey opened his arms. ‘Then gives us a hug.’

‘I’m all mucky with charcoal.’

‘So?’

He wrapped his arms round her, lifted her off her feet. She could tell he was being careful with her, his arms were gentle. She smelt his aftershave, something expensive no doubt.

He set her down, grinned. ‘Actually you do look pretty mucky.’