The Informant (7 page)

Joey caught the direction of his sister’s critical gaze. ‘Bit of a turn-up, eh?’

‘How’d it happen?’

‘Dunno really. When the old man had his stroke, Brian was driving her, y’know, taking care of things generally.’

‘I didn’t imagine it started before that. He’d’ve killed ’em both.’

Joey didn’t reply, he didn’t have to. Their father’s violence had always been part of their lives, it didn’t merit any discussion.

Kaz turned to her brother and scanned his face. ‘So when’s someone gonna tell me about Natalie?’

Joey avoided her eye at the mention of their sibling. Natalie was their baby sister, twelve years old when Kaz went down.

‘Ain’t no secret babes. She and Mum had their ups and downs. Nat moved out last year.’

It sounded innocuous enough, but Kaz could sense from his tone that there was more to it than that.

‘Where’s she living now then?’

‘Down Southend.’

Kaz nodded, she could see this was going to be hard work, but she persisted. ‘On her own?’

Joey’s jaw visibly tightened. ‘With some fella.’

He jumped up, strode over to Ashley, who was patiently guiding Terry’s mechanized wheelchair round the garden. ‘Go on mate, get yourself a beer. I’ll take over.’

Joey pointed the wheelchair in the direction of the shrubbery. Kaz watched them go, Terry’s inert bulk hunched in the chair, Joey walking beside him, controlling the joystick with one hand
but staring straight ahead, completely ignoring his father.

Ellie was laying the table so Kaz got up too and went to help her.

‘Bet you don’t recognize this old garden. Joey knew this lad from school, got his own landscape gardening business. He done the whole thing. They brought in plants by the lorry
load.’

Kaz smiled at her mother’s pleasure. ‘It does look great.’

‘Cost a fortune. But Joey didn’t care, paid for the lot. Y’know, since your dad was took bad and with Sean inside, he’s stepped up to the mark has Joey. I think quite a
few people have been surprised. Truth be told, I was meself a bit. You seen these?’ Ellie held up a fine porcelain plate. It was a good fourteen inches in diameter and had a gold band round
the circumference. ‘I love these plates. Got a whole set from John Lewis.’

She chattered on, laying out the plates, arranging knives, forks, napkins, on the table. Everything matched, most of it looked new. One thing was clear to Kaz: Joey had decided to give his
mother the life that Terry had promised but never really delivered.

‘You see much of Natalie then?’

Ellie’s busy hands stopped. She shrugged off the question. ‘Now and then.’

‘So what’s she get up to down in Southend?’

Ellie became preoccupied with adjusting all the place mats. ‘How the bloody hell should I know? She’s eighteen, she don’t talk to me. And if I recall, you was the same at that
age.’

Kaz did recall. At eighteen she’d been strung out on a cocktail of crack, coke, booze and a myriad of other drugs. Being the daughter of Terry Phelps had carried one advantage: when it
came to getting your hands on illegal substances no one said no to you. More often than not they just gave you the stuff for free.

Brian carried a huge platter of meat from the barbecue over to the table. ‘Who’s ready for a nice juicy steak? Come on, ’fore it gets cold.’

Kaz helped Ashley set chairs round the table. Ellie flapped her arms and shouted, ‘Joey! Come on lovey, we’re ready to eat.’

Joey steered the wheelchair back in the direction of the patio area and parked Terry up at the head of the table. Finally they all sat down.

Ellie looked round beaming, her face flushed. ‘I been so looking forward to this day. Kaz coming home. The family all together. It’s as it should be.’

Kaz looked at her father, his empty carcass still a baleful presence. She thought about Natalie, her absent sister. Then she glanced at her mother, happily forking massive sirloin steaks on to
her precious plates. Ellie may have managed to escape her own drug-fuelled hell. But to Kaz’s mind she was still playing the same game.

Kaz sat in her childhood bedroom and stared at the new pink walls. They were loud, screaming pink, only the curtains were worse. A selection of gonks and cuddly toys that
she’d never seen before were lined up on the windowsill. The duvet cover had a pink frilly border all the way round and the bed was piled high with furry cushions. It was the kind of girly
boudoir that might’ve delighted a ten-year-old. Kaz reflected that she was probably about that age when Terry first started making moves on her and her mother checked out.

The door opened a crack and Joey popped his head in.

‘You all right?’

Kaz glared at him. ‘No. Ten o’clock, that’s my curfew at the hostel. How the fuck am I s’pose to get back for that?’

Joey shrugged. ‘You come to see your family. Anyway, ain’t like you to worry about stuff like that. You used to bunk off school all the time and stick two fingers up at the social
when they come round.’

Kaz stared at him in disbelief.

‘I’m not a schoolkid any more. Twelve years Joey. I got twelve years ’cause that bloke at the garage that you whacked in the head ended up in a wheelchair.’

Joey scowled, stepped into the room and closed the door.

‘Yeah well, it was his own fault. He should’ve handed over the cash. I mean, what was his problem, he only worked there. And anyway twelve don’t mean twelve, does it?
It’s only really six.’

Kaz got up, hands on hips and faced him. ‘Yeah six inside, six on licence. Break the licence, you get recalled. Banged up straight away, no discussion. So for the next six years of my life
I ain’t gonna be sticking two fingers up at no one.’

A look of contrition spread across Joey’s features. ‘Babes I’m sorry. I dunno, I didn’t think about the time.’ He sighed. ‘I just wanted you to come home. See
how things are now.’

‘See what exactly? Him? The shedloads of stuff you’ve got Mum?’

Joey sat down on the bed. He fixed her with an intense, mesmerizing gaze. This had always been the thing with Joey: the look. It was hard not to be drawn in. He put her in mind of a little boy,
innocent, appealing, as he struggled to find the right words.

‘Listen, when you went down, I was completely gutted. Twelve fucking years – I mean, it was like a bullet.’ He put two fingers up to his temple and pulled the trigger.
‘And I know . . . well, I know it should’ve been me, not you. I was running round like a blue-arsed fly, doing completely mental stuff.’

Kaz exhaled, plonked down on the bed next to him. ‘Think we both were mate.’

‘Part of me wanted to turn meself in. Then the old man got hold of me. Well . . . you don’t need me to spell out how that went.’

Kaz shook her head sympathetically.

‘When he’d finished beating the shit out of me he said you knew the score, you’d never grass. And there was no point both of us going down. But it was my job to take care of
things while you was away. That was my part of the deal.’

Kaz shifted uncomfortably. ‘Joe, a lot’s changed in six years. I’m not the same person. I’m not out of my box on crack, for a start.’

Joey seized her hand. ‘I ain’t the same either. I mean I know I muck about. But even back then I started to do some thinking. I mean proper thinking. Took me a while, but I got me
head straight. Bunking off school, getting wasted – why did we do all that?’

‘To escape all this?’

‘Yeah well I started to think, at school they was on at us all the time to read books. Okay, I thought, I’ll read some fucking books, see what all the fuss is about. I was amazed,
it’s all out there once you start looking. And on the Net you can find out about anything. I never took an exam in my life, but in the last six years I’ve learnt how the world
works.’

‘Believe me little brother, I’m impressed.’

‘I knew nothing’d change while the old man was running things, so I kept me head down, waited. Then he had his stroke.’ Joey’s eyes lit up at the memory. ‘I went
down the hospital with Mum. We thought he’d bought it. Then the doctors pulled him through.’

Kaz gave him a cynical glance. ‘Bet that cheered everyone up.’

Joey smiled. Then the warmth faded out of his face. ‘I dunno what made him survive. Bloody-mindedness probably. All that bastard ever cared about was having his own way. He’s a
fucking monster.’

A tear welled up in the corner of Joey’s eye, Kaz took both of his hands in hers.

‘You think I don’t realize you got the short straw. I was the lucky one – least I got away from him.’

Joey let her hold on to him for a moment. Then he stood up, angrily brushing the tears away.

‘All the stuff he done to you and Mum over the years . . . when I see him in that chair I think, yeah mate, I hope you’re still in there, trapped inside your own bonce, screaming to
get out.’

Kaz watched her brother pacing the room, fuelled with inner rage. She got up and went to him. ‘Joe, I know how much it hurts, but . . . you gotta let it go, put it behind you.’

He turned, seized her by the shoulders, his grip so powerful she winced.

‘Yeah, I know. I know!’ His eyes glistened with tears and fervour. ‘And now you’re out babes, I can. It’s gonna be me and you together, like it used to be. I been
waiting, I been planning.’

Kaz eased herself free, rubbed her arm.

He looked mortified. ‘Sorry, did I hurt you?’

‘Don’t matter. Look, there’s a lot we need to talk about. I got some plans of me own.’

‘Great. Whatever. Bring it to the table.’ Joey gave her a wide smile, pulled out a tissue and blew his nose; his rage had evaporated as suddenly as it’d come.

Kaz watched him, the same rapid mood swings as when he was a kid. Always sunshine and showers with Joey, that’d been the family joke. Now he was bouncing round the room, he picked up one
of the gonks, tossed it playfully in the air.

‘Right, sod this.’ He tossed aside the toy and checked his watch. ‘Half nine, we’ll never make South London by ten, not even the way I drive. I’ll call the lawyers,
get them on it with the hostel. We pay ’em enough.’

Kaz shook her head. ‘It’s all right, I sorted it. Phoned them earlier. I’ve got to see my probation officer tomorrow anyway and he’s in Basildon. So I got permission to
stay over.’

A knowing smile spread over Joey’s features. ‘You’re a little tinker, ’n’t you? You just wanted to give me a bollocking!’

Kaz gave him a hard stare. ‘No, I wanted you to see my point of view.’

‘I do see it babes.’ Joey nodded sagely. ‘They get you every which way, the bastards, don’t they?’ He scanned the room and started to giggle. ‘As for this
… Still, kept her happy doing it I guess.’

‘She lives in fantasy land Joey. She always did. This is just a different fantasy.’

‘You don’t wanna stay here, come back to my place tonight.’ He raised his hand to pre-empt any objection. ‘I’ll take you to Basildon tomorrow myself. You’ll
be on time I promise. Less you wanna sleep with the gonks.’

He waggled one of the pink furry creatures in her face. She smiled, the day had exhausted her. Why shouldn’t she stay at his place? Who’d know?

‘What’s it like then, your gaff?’

‘It’s all right. Don’t worry, it’s got two bathrooms, so you ain’t gonna be grossed out by Ash. Also it’ll give me a chance to bring you up to speed with the
business—’

Kaz held up her hand. This was what she’d been afraid of: his assumptions and the unstoppable tide of his enthusiasm.

‘Look, don’t get me wrong, you’ve done really well for yourself, but . . .’

Joey stood stock-still, his face a picture of boyish incredulity. ‘Not for myself. No.’ He shook his head emphatically. ‘For
us
. I done it for us. My part of the deal,
like the old man said. Half the business is yours babes. You served the time for both of us, so you’ve earned it. We’re partners.’

Helen Warner told the taxi driver to drop her in Birdcage Walk at the edge of the park. From there she walked round the corner to the conference centre giving herself time to
calm any nerves and focus. She was used to meeting people from all walks of life, getting up and speaking, she did enough of that in court. But this was a new departure for her, the first tentative
steps in what she hoped would lead to a parliamentary career. She was thirty-two, a successful lawyer, she had all the right credentials, it was time to get moving.

She entered the QEII conference centre by the main entrance, passed through security and saw that the event she was attending was in the Churchill Auditorium, an interesting choice, she thought,
given the subject matter.

The room was about half full, maybe a hundred or so people. She was handed a glossy brochure at the door emblazoned with the title ‘Broken Britain – A Way Forward’. Taking it
she reflected that if they spent the money laid out on this shindig in some of the daggy neighbourhoods that had been the tinderbox for the riots, that might be a step in the right direction. She
glanced round the room, saw a couple of Labour Party policy wonks she recognized; they gave her a friendly nod, and she took a seat towards the back.

On her feet at the podium Assistant Commissioner Fiona Calder was presenting her opening remarks. It was all pretty standard stuff: alienation, gangs, poor role models, bad parenting, exclusion
from consumer culture. Calder was a small woman, but made up for that fact with a large presence. She also looked good in the uniform, not all women did. Helen tried to listen, but she’d
heard it all before, read it, regurgitated it herself. Since the August riots of the previous year she’d acquired a roster of new clients. The crackdown on criminality promised by the
government had brought her firm a twenty per cent upturn in business and a slew of juicy appeals.

Helen leafed through the brochure, admired the spectacular photos of London burning. Then she let her eyes range around the room, checking out who she recognized, who was on her networking list.
It took her a few moments to become aware of the man sitting close to the podium on the Assistant Commissioner’s right-hand side. She realized with a start that he was staring straight at
her. It was Detective Chief Superintendent Alan Turnbull and as soon as he caught her eye he smiled.