The Informant (47 page)

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Authors: Susan Wilkins

Tags: #Fiction, #Crime, #Thrillers, #Mystery & Detective, #General

BOOK: The Informant
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‘What you can trust babes is the money. You’ve got it, he wants it. Bent cop’s not gonna grass you up. It’s in his interests to just disappear.’

Joey fixed her with a penetrating look, then his lip started to tremble with amusement. The amusement erupted into hilarity and he slapped his thigh. He laughed until his eyes watered, then he
wagged his finger at Yevgeny.

‘You gotta admit Yev, she’s good. My sister is good. Don’t think I ever heard such a convincing load of old bullshit, have you?’

Kaz stared at him in surprise. ‘It’s not bullshit. Joey, I swear to you . . .’

Joey continued to chortle. ‘Now the dyke bit, that was a stroke of genius.’ He adopted a mocking tone. ‘“I’ve only ever slept with one person and it ain’t
him.”’

Kaz shot a nervous look at Bradley. Joey giggled.

‘Have you seen her fucking lawyer? Miss Prissy. Got a bug up her arse this far. And the idea of the two of them at it . . . no one’d buy that. No one.’ He giggled some
more.

Kaz held out her hand beseechingly. ‘Call her, call her Joey. That’ll prove it.’

Joey wiped away tears of mirth with the back of his hand. He took a deep breath and his expression changed.

‘Nah, I got a better way to prove it. Quicker too.’ He glanced at the Russian. ‘Yev, you got that SIG?’

Yevgeny unzipped his jacket pocket and brought out the SIG Sauer 220 pistol. He screwed on the suppressor, handed it to Joey. Joey checked the magazine was properly loaded, pulled back the slide
and decocked it. His face was completely serious now. He turned to his sister.

‘Okay, let’s say I decide to believe you. You and him, nothing going on. That’s what you’re telling me, innit?’

Kaz swallowed hard. ‘Yeah.’

Joey offered her the SIG. ‘Right. All you gotta do is shoot him in the head. Then I’ll know you’re telling me the truth.’

Kaz stared in disbelief at the gun.

Joey held it out. ‘Go on, take it.’

She glanced at Bradley, his shoulder blades and arms were pulled back tight by the duct tape, his head bowed, but he was staring right at her, a look of shock and fear on his face.

Joey fixed her with his laser-eyed stare. ‘Ain’t as if you haven’t done it before. What’s the problem?’ He waited a moment then turned, held out the gun at
arm’s length and pointed it at Bradley. ‘Want me to do it for you?’

Bradley stared down the barrel and fixed Joey with his own unflinching look. ‘Yeah go on Joey, you do it! You’re the psycho. Murder’s your job not hers.’

A slow smile spread over Joey’s face, he closed one eye as he lined up his arm and took aim at Bradley’s head.

Kaz stepped in front of him, held out her hand. ‘No! Give it to me, I’ll do it.’

For a frozen instant Joey looked disappointed.

She hooked his gaze. ‘I’ll do it.’

He lowered his arm and handed the gun to her.

As Kaz’s palm closed around the pistol grip she didn’t know what she was going to do, only that she had to do something. All eyes were on her. Joey had an amused and expectant grin,
Yevgeny stood, arms folded, watching and waiting. Bradley was craning his neck to look at her, the bruising round his nose and eyes had turned a livid purple, leaving the eyes sharp and bright with
fear. Kaz took a deep breath and pointed the gun at her brother.

‘This stops now Joey. I ain’t gonna let you kill him.’

Joey grinned and put his hands on his hips.

‘Well that answers that question, dunnit? I knew I was right. But how you gonna get out of here babes, you and lover boy? By the time you shot me Yev’ll be across there ripping your
head off. You could take a pop at him, but then I’d do the same. So you got one shot, who’s it gonna be?’

Kaz didn’t move, the gun remained trained on Joey. He smiled.

‘Tick tock. Made up your mind yet?’

He held out his hand and started to edge forward. ‘Give me the gun babes.’

Kaz raised her arm slightly, aimed a couple of inches above Joey’s head and pulled the trigger. The report ricocheted round the lock-up. The bullet tore into the wall sending shards of
brick flying. Joey ducked reflexively. He seemed more surprised than unnerved.

‘Fucking hell Kaz!’

Tolya appeared in the doorway, a sneaky fag in his hand. He shot a look at Yevgeny, who simply sighed. Kaz adjusted her aim, pointing the gun straight at Joey.

‘Don’t make the mistake of thinking I won’t shoot you little brother. ’Cause like you said, I done it before. Now untie him.’

Joey shook his head wearily. ‘Listen to me Kaz—’

‘Untie him. Now!’

Joey cocked his head at the Russian. ‘Yev—’

‘Not him Joey. You. You do it.’

Joey stepped forward, gave Bradley a disdainful smile and started to pick ineffectually at the duct tape.

‘It ain’t designed to come off, this stuff, that’s why we use it. Needs a knife.’

‘You got strong hands, tear it.’

Bradley’s eyes were darting between Kaz and Joey. His mouth was bone dry. He licked his lips. ‘Get him to click emergency services on his mobile, put the phone to my ear, I’ll
call for backup.’

Joey clouted him hard across the side of the head. ‘The fuck you will!’

‘Joey! I’m warning you!’

He raised his palms. ‘All right all right . . . but honestly?’

Joey freed the end of the duct tape round Bradley’s torso and started to unwind it. He was taking his time. ‘So babes, where you gonna run?’

Kaz didn’t get a chance to answer, the door behind Tolya opened and Ashley appeared.

Joey turned to face him. ‘About bloody time. As you can see me and my sister are having a slight disagreement.’

Ashley glanced at Kaz and then back to Joey. His face was tense and drawn. ‘Joe, something I need to tell you.’

Joey huffed. ‘Why are you such a fucking twat? Let me deal with this first, okay.’

‘It’s your dad. He’s dead.’

Joey’s head tipped back as if he’d been hit, he let his hands fall to his sides, he looked confused. ‘Dead? How can he be dead?’

‘Brian found him in his wheelchair, called me. That’s where I been. Over their place. I didn’t want them to tell you on the phone. Then the old bill turned up looking for you.
I had to climb over the fence sharpish. They been to the flat too.’

Joey turned to his sister, tears welling up in his eyes. ‘How can he be dead?’

Kaz looked at Ashley. ‘What was it? Another stroke?’

Ashley nodded. ‘Think so.’

Kaz lowered her arm. It seemed faintly absurd to be standing there holding a gun on her weeping brother. Joey cupped his palms over his face and sobbed.

‘He’s dead Kaz. What am I gonna do?’

Kaz glanced at Yevgeny, trying to gauge what his next move would be. She sighed.

‘Probably for the best. He didn’t have much of a life sitting in that chair like a zombie.’

Joey wiped away tears and snot with his fingers. He frowned, he seemed to be trying to put a picture together in his mind. ‘So what you telling me Ash? Dad’s dead and the fucking
filth are all over the fucking house?’

Ashley nodded. ‘That’s about the size of it, yeah.’

Joey turned on Bradley, still bound to the chair trying to free himself from the duct tape, and his fury exploded. He heaved the chair on its side, Bradley crashed to the floor and his head
struck the concrete.

‘Fucking bastards! You got no respect!’

Joey booted him in the gut. Kaz launched herself at her brother’s back, spun him round and pointed the gun right in his face.

‘Enough!’

He simply stared at her, a tear rolled down his cheek. He sniffed. ‘I gotta go and see Mum.’

Ashley shook his head. ‘No you can’t Joe, there’s filth all over.’ He glanced at Bradley. ‘Probably looking for him.’

Joey turned, fury was still burning off him, he walked round in a circle, took a couple of deep breaths. Then he stopped, stared at the bricks overhead. It was almost as if he were counting
them. The rage appeared to subside.

He looked at Ashley. ‘Call Neville. He’ll sort them out.’ He turned to Yevgeny and pointed at the semi-conscious Bradley. ‘Finish this off and clean up the mess. I gotta
go and be with my mum.’

Joey headed for the door, as an afterthought he glanced at Kaz. ‘You coming babes? Mum’s gonna need her family round her.’

Kaz hissed in disbelief. ‘What planet you living on Joey? She and Brian are probably cracking open the champagne.’

Joey stared at her, his eyes cold and blank. ‘Fuck you then.’

And he was gone. Ashley scurried out of the door after him.

Kaz looked down at Bradley, it was hard to tell if he was still breathing. She glanced at the pistol in her hand, Yevgeny and Tolya were both watching her. She met their gaze, held it. Then she
sighed.

‘Don’t you think that perhaps this particular tour of duty is over for you lads? Take a plane to somewhere hot, sit on a nice beach? Whad’you reckon?’

Yevgeny pondered this, turned to his brother, said something in Russian. Tolya nodded.

Unexpectedly Yevgeny smiled. ‘You a tough lady. I like you. See you around sometime maybe.’

Tolya gave her a nod and a smile then the two Russians disappeared out of the door.

Kaz dropped the gun, rushed over to the workbench and found a Stanley knife. She used it to cut Bradley free from the chair. He was conscious but disorientated. He was bleeding from the ear.

She cradled his head. ‘I got no phone, so I’m gonna have to get some help.’ Pulling off her jacket, she folded it up and made a pillow for his head.

‘They . . .’ The effort to speak made him clutch his ribs and wince with pain.

Kaz took his hand ‘They’ve gone, don’t worry. Just lie still. I’ll get an ambulance. You’re gonna be fine.’

He held onto her hand and squeezed it.

73

Helen Warner was sitting through what seemed an interminable partners’ meeting when one of the PAs came in and whispered that Karen Phelps was calling her collect from a
kebab shop in Ilford. She gave Neville Moore an apologetic smile and slipped out of the room.

Since fetching Karen home from the hospital she’d taken a firm decision to put some space between them. But it hadn’t been easy. Now she found her heart was thumping and her palms
were clammy as she headed towards the phone.

She and Julia had set a date, booked the registry office. It was the sensible thing, it was the life she wanted, the life she needed. Karen Phelps was definitely not what she needed. Being with
Karen would be madness; it would comprehensively fuck her up, her nascent political career would be dead in the water. And yet the scent of Karen’s skin, the look of those intense dark eyes,
the desire for her, niggled at the fringes of Helen’s consciousness, it simply wouldn’t leave her alone. Was this love? Stupid ragbag of a word. She’d loved before and look where
that got her. Dumped flat to preserve the public image, to protect someone else’s interests. Well she’d learnt the lesson back then: stay safe, stay in control.

She took a deep breath and grabbed the phone. Her tone was clipped, businesslike. ‘Karen? What’s up?’

The voice on the line was tense, hassled, even so the familiar timbre stabbed Helen straight in the gut. ‘I gotta be quick, ’cause I’m waiting for the ambulance.’

‘Ambulance? What the hell . . .’

‘Just listen. Joey got hold of Bradley. Remember Bradley the cop?’

‘Of course . . .’

‘Joey was gonna shoot him. I stopped him, but Bradley’s beat up pretty bad. Hang on . . . here’s the ambulance now.’

Helen could hear muffled chat in the background, a siren, finally Karen came back on the line.

‘Romford. The A & E at Queen’s. That’s where we’re going. Need you to call the cops, Woodentop’s lot. Tell ’em. Okay?’

‘Karen—’

The line went dead.

Helen could feel her hand shaking as she replaced the handset. Across the office she caught Neville Moore’s gaze and he was zoning in on her. She’d had the odd barbed comment from
him about professional standards and inappropriate relationships. He’d been watching her, monitoring her; maybe even checking her emails – she wouldn’t put it past him.

As he approached he gave her his gimlet-eyed smile. ‘Problems?’

She jutted her chin, no way was he getting the drop on her. Not now. She gave a diffident shrug. ‘I think you may have a problem Neville. Joey Phelps has just tried to shoot a police
officer.’

74

Nicci Armstrong walked into the A & E department at Queen’s Hospital in Romford, headed straight to the front of the queue and flashed her ID at the triage nurse. She
was probably being unnecessarily abrupt but the day had been frustrating in the extreme. They’d searched all the premises with known connections to Joey Phelps and drawn a blank. His vehicles
had been flagged up, they’d put out an APW. With panic mounting Nicci had been rushing round in ever-decreasing circles wired on caffeine. As the hours went by the mood of the team had
deteriorated, the theory gaining ground was that Bradley was already dead and Phelps had skipped the country. Then Nicci got a call from Karen Phelps’s lawyer.

It was Helen Warner who told her Bradley was en route to Queen’s Hospital in an ambulance with Karen Phelps. Nicci had run out of the Phelps family compound, leaving Essex Police to
continue the stakeout. She was the first officer to reach the hospital.

The waiting area was in a late afternoon torpor, with a couple of unruly kids testing the patience of their vexed parents. Karen Phelps was sitting alone in one corner staring into space.

Nicci steamed straight up to her, she wanted answers and she wanted them now. Her temper was in danger of getting the upper hand. As she took a deep breath to rein it in, Kaz looked up at
her.

‘You got him yet?’

Somehow this was so unexpected and direct that it floored Nicci. ‘Your brother? Not yet no.’

‘He’s on his way to my parents’ place in Essex. You’ll get him there.’

Nicci nodded. ‘Where’s Bradley?’

‘Doctors are looking at him, X-raying him, whatever.’

Nicci nodded again. A small oriental staff nurse came through the swing doors in front of them. She carried a clipboard and a rather bored, supercilious air. Her eyes flicked over them.
‘Which one is Karen? He wants to talk to you.’

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