The Informant (27 page)

Turnbull fixed Bradley with an unremitting stare. ‘I’ve heard enough. Just be a good lad and go out there and do what you’re told.’

‘You want me to threaten her. In effect blackmail her?’

‘I don’t want Sean, I want Joey. That clear enough for you?’

The flat was in Limehouse and modest compared to Joey’s. It had two separate balconies overlooking the river and was part of a portered development on Narrow Street with
underground parking and a gym. The agent, Hayley, was a lizard-eyed blonde in her forties and canny enough to hang back and let the place sell itself. Joey opened the French doors and stepped out
on to one of the balconies while Kaz stood bathed in airy sunlight in the large open-plan reception room. She already knew where she’d put her easel.

Hayley joined Joey on the balcony. The sweep of the river was before them, a rippling metallic sheet of water curving south round Limehouse Reach. She scanned his profile, ticking the boxes:
young, affluent, worked out, expensively dressed, Rolex Oyster, and she’d clocked the Range Rover Evoque they’d arrived in. She had him pegged as a City boy. Her guess was a new
relationship and he’d just got his bonus.

She put on her professional smile. ‘Speaks for itself really, doesn’t it?’

Joey nodded.

‘I think you two could be very happy here. Lots of young couples like you in the block. Good bars, restaurants, all on your doorstep.’

Joey turned towards her with a grin. Hayley caught the full force of his keen blue eyes.

‘Flat’s not for me, it’s for my sister. She needs somewhere right away.’

Hayley was momentarily thrown. She’d read them as a couple and she didn’t usually get these things wrong. ‘Well, it’s the perfect buy for a single woman. Very secure.
Once contracts have been exchanged, she could be in in a matter of weeks.’

Joey inclined his head. ‘Nah, she needs a place now.’

Hayley blinked at him. ‘Obviously we’d do all we could to expedite . . .’

He held up his palm. ‘Nah, while the lawyers sort out the paperwork, she moves in. In the meantime she pays rent.’

‘I’m not sure that would be possible Mr Phelps. The vendors would never—’

‘But you’ll persuade them, won’t you Hayley? ’Cause then you’ll be picking up a five grand cash bonus, which no one need know about ’cept you and
me.’

Hayley fixed him with a look of frank amazement. ‘You’ll be paying the asking price?’

Joey nodded. ‘I don’t quibble over a few quid. My sister’s had a rough time lately. I want to make things easy for her.’

Hayley pondered. The only other people interested in the flat had offered twenty thousand under the asking price. She wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. She scanned his
amiable, smiling face. She still couldn’t quite figure it.

‘Wish I had a brother like you.’ She took out her mobile. ‘I’ll go and make some calls.’

Joey rejoined Kaz, she was wandering from the main bedroom into the en suite. ‘Whad’you reckon babes?’

Kaz turned to him, she had the look of a kid in a sweetshop. ‘Well it’s a step up from my old gaff. No steel pan in the corner, or bars on the windows.’

Joey tipped his head to one side. He was trying to appear nonchalant, but Kaz could feel his excitement. He loved playing the benefactor; the power of money, serious money, that was his second
favourite buzz.

‘Move in in a couple of days if you like it.’

‘Seriously? I thought this was for sale, not rent. Don’t that take longer?’

A smile flickered round his lips as he savoured the moment. ‘Yeah, but I’ve fixed all that.’

She reached her arms round his neck and gave him a hug. He beamed with pleasure. ‘Lawyers’ll put it in your name. All above board, like I said.’

She kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you little brother.’

‘It’s only what you’re owed.’

She patted his arm. ‘Plenty of people think they’re owed.’

‘You mean like fucking Sean?’

‘Well, I’m on the case with that.’

Joey gave her an enquiring look. ‘Yeah? What’s the plan?’

Kaz hadn’t wanted to tell him anything until it was all set up. But on the other hand she didn’t want him to think she was being cagey.

‘Early days, but I’ve had a word with the copper that they’ve had following me about.’

Joey shook his head. ‘Sean’s a crafty old bastard. They can watch him all day long, ain’t about to catch him with his fingers in the till.’

Kaz looked at him and considered her options. Should she say something? He was in a good mood, so what the hell. They had to have this discussion sometime.

‘Thing is Joey, the old bill ain’t daft. They know we want him out the way. If we’re gonna give them Sean, he has to be wrapped up in a tasty enough package to tempt
them.’

‘How d’you mean?’

‘Okay, this is only an idea. We give Sean one of the cannabis factories.’

Joey stared at her gone out. ‘What? You know how much investment I put into them?’

Kaz nodded. ‘Yeah, but it’ll be worth it to get shot of Sean. You transfer the lease to some shell company that can be easily traced back to him. Let him get his feet under the
table, doing business, feeling secure. One day old bill just walk in. Big drugs bust, they’re happy. He’s back in jail for at least another ten.’

Joey absorbed this, exhaled.

‘Still expensive.’

‘I know but . . .’

Kaz stopped in her tracks as Hayley came bustling in; she was all smiles.

‘I’ve spoken to the vendor.’ He was a small-time buy-to-let landlord hit by the recession and desperate to offload the place to stave off bankruptcy. When Hayley had told him
she’d got the asking price, he was over the moon. The rest was easy. ‘He’s accepted your offer. And, since the place is empty, he’s happy to facilitate an early move. My
office can draw up a short-term lease that you can sign today. Then you can move in.’

Joey glanced at Kaz, raised his eyebrows. ‘Well? Wanna do it?’

Kaz giggled like a kid. All thoughts of Sean had evaporated. ‘Yeah!’ She spun round, the white walls, the big windows, whirled past her. After all these years, her own place with her
own front door. A door she could lock from the inside. She drank it all in, it was heady stuff.

Hayley held out her hand. Kaz took it and they shook on the deal. Hayley was thinking of that juicy cash bonus, the easiest five grand she’d ever earned. She flicked a covert glance at
Joey and smiled.

‘Everybody wins.’

Kaz went furniture shopping with a company credit card provided by Joey. The name on the card was someone she’d never heard of, but Joey assured her it was all above
board. The card wasn’t stolen or cloned, the company was entirely legit and the card holder fronting it worked for his accountants. She was indeed the company secretary as it said on the card
and very well paid for her services.

As Kaz strolled in and out of various furniture stores on Tottenham Court Road she tried on her temporary identity for size. Alice Ogilvy – it had an unmistakably posh ring to it. She
walked through several shops, browsing and pretending to be Alice Ogilvy. Then she wandered into Heal’s; she sensed it was the kind of place Alice would feel comfortable.

As she drifted through the bed department, a young sales assistant homed in on her, his smile polite and deferential.

‘If I can be of any help madam, do let me know.’

Kaz smiled back at him, a twenty-something boy on a shop worker’s wage, no different to her in many ways. But they were both playing a game. She adopted a slightly bored expression.

‘I’ve been working out in Dubai for the last five years, just come back and bought a flat in Limehouse. I need to furnish it.’

The boy’s eyes lit up, it had been a slow week, his sales figures were crap and the manager was on his case. He straightened his drooping shoulders, painted on a look of enthusiasm.
‘Well, a bed is a very good place to start madam. Queen or king size?’

Kaz pretended to ponder. ‘King size. I think that would be best.’

An hour and a half later she hit the pavement with a sheaf of receipts in her bag and a delivery time-slot between ten and one the following day. She’d bought a bed, two bedside tables, a
lamp, a very elegant chest of drawers, two leather sofas, a glass-topped coffee table and a round dining table with four chairs. It was all quite easy once you got into the swing of it.

But she couldn’t help thinking of Helen’s flat, the spacious, minimalist feel of it. The sofas she bought were cream and kid-soft like Helen’s. For Alice Ogilvy’s taste
was as good as Helen’s, possibly superior. In fact Helen would’ve thought twice before she dumped the likes of Alice Ogilvy – at least that’s what Kaz told herself.

As the anger and the shame of Helen’s rejection broke the surface once again, Kaz could feel the familiar tension gripping her stomach. She’d been fighting it all week. The fantasy
of killing Julia kept returning to her intermittently. She imagined borrowing a gun from Yev or Tolya, tracking Julia down, she skipped over the details of how, and taking her out. Single head
shot, simple as that. But then she’d have to face Helen, witness her pain. And that’s when the fantasy turned to nightmare. Helen would hate her, recognize her for the slag she was. All
hope would be lost. She’d be back inside again.

More than once Kaz had ended up curled in a foetal ball, sobbing. But now, as the familiar loop started to play in her head, she pushed it away. She wasn’t going down that route today, she
was out shopping, getting her life back on track and Helen Warner could go fuck herself.

Kaz crossed the road and was setting her mind to deciding whether to get a laptop, a tablet computer or both, when her phone trilled with an incoming text. She opened it up and read a message
from Mal Bradley:
can we meet? need to talk urgently. things moving fast.
Kaz texted back and after a short exchange she agreed to see him an hour later in a pub he suggested on Charlotte
Street. She didn’t much like pubs, but she figured she’d get there early, settle herself with a coffee, then he’d be walking into her territory.

He’d obviously had the same idea, appearing ten minutes short of the hour and with Nicci Armstrong in tow. Kaz had positioned herself in a corner booth, but with a good view of the door.
The place was relatively empty, a few early lunchers and serious drinkers. Bradley clocked her immediately and came straight over, looking slightly put out.

‘You’re early.’

‘Been doing some shopping.’

Bradley inclined his head in Nicci’s direction. ‘You may remember my colleague Nicci Armstrong.’

Kaz gave her a curt nod. Flipping back to the interview in Southend it was no real surprise to learn that she wasn’t the local plod but one of Woodentop’s people.

Bradley smiled. ‘Can I get anyone a drink?’

Kaz pointed to her coffee. ‘I’m fine.’

Nicci put a casual hand on Bradley’s shoulder. ‘Sit down, I’ll get them. Pint?’

While Nicci headed for the bar, he slid into the booth beside Kaz.

Kaz decided to open the batting. ‘Thought you lot weren’t s’pose to drink on duty.’

Bradley laced his fingers in front of him. ‘Yeah, but most coppers are alkies, aren’t they? We’re no exception. Get it when we can.’

He was turning on the charm, the cute smile, the attempt at humour. Kaz took it all in. She waited. He glanced down at the several shopping bags she had next to her, saw the famous logo.

‘New laptop? Nice.’

‘I need it for college.’

Nicci Armstrong returned to the table, placed a pint of lager in front of Bradley, she had a gin and tonic for herself. Kaz recognized the smell, an old familiar fragrance from long ago, like a
scent she might’ve remembered her mother wearing. Except with Ellie the memories were more of vomit and piss, of days when she laid on her bed without budging, while Kaz, Joey and little
Natalie went hungry.

Nicci sat down opposite Kaz, took a sip of her drink and glanced at Bradley. He turned the pint glass round, tracing a line with his finger through the cold dewy beads of moisture clinging to
the glass. Then he looked up, straight at Kaz.

‘What we need to talk to you about Karen, is politics.’

‘I don’t vote. They’re all as bad as each other.’

Bradley smiled. He liked that she always whacked everything back at him. ‘Not that kind of politics. Sean’s an old lag, he’s done his time. There’s no real mileage for us
in arresting him five minutes after he gets out. Makes the system look stupid, makes us all look stupid. That’s the politics of this.’

Kaz knew what was coming next. She also knew Sean would be a hard sell. But she waited. Bradley opened his palms.

‘Still, it’s good that we’re having this conversation. It’s a start. A good start.’ He smiled broadly.

Kaz fixed him with a penetrating stare. ‘I’m not giving you Joey. Not now, not ever.’ She picked up her cup and drained it. She’d get nowhere unless she pushed them to
the edge. ‘So, end of discussion.’

Nicci leant back in her chair, folded her arms.

‘Tell me this Karen, what kind of life do you want?’

Kaz looked the other woman up and down. Everything about her was less obvious than Bradley. And Kaz suspected she was a lot smarter.

‘I want to go to college, get a degree, become a painter.’

Nicci sighed. ‘You know that’s only really going to be possible once Joey goes to jail.’

‘Why? ’Cause you lot’re gonna hound me ’til I give in?’

‘No.’ Nicci smiled ruefully. ‘Truth is we’ll give up, move on to other targets eventually. But you’re gonna spend your life taking care of Joey, dancing to his
tune, covering up his mistakes. He’s a killer, Karen. Probably a psychopath. You saw what he did to Jez Harris. He doesn’t care about anyone else. It’s the way his brain’s
wired. You may think you can help him, but he will use you up.’

Kaz blinked a couple of times, still she held the eye contact. She’d learnt long ago, never let them face you down. The image of Zara, the little kid with a gaping bloody hole in her
chest, flashed through her brain. She shook her head, dislodging it, flinging any doubts away.