The Informant (22 page)

Iqbal spread his open palms. ‘I fear you’ve come a long way for nothing Sergeant. As I said to Detective Chief Inspector Mayhew on the phone, Natalie Phelps is currently undergoing
our intensive detoxification programme. Her mental state is extremely fragile. Any kind of police interview at this stage could easily tip her over the edge into psychosis. I really can’t
risk it.’

Nicci inclined her head and continued to smile. ‘We do understand your position Doctor Iqbal, but this is potentially a murder investigation.’

‘And I would love to help.’ Iqbal sighed. ‘But it’s my duty to put my patient’s interests first.’

Bradley pushed back in his chair, letting it scrape the polished wooden floor as he got to his feet. He didn’t get to play bad cop that often, usually he was the young sympathetic one.
Shoving both hands in his pockets, he eyeballed the doctor.

‘I’m sure you would love to help. But the thing is, Joey Phelps is paying you a shedload of cash to keep his sister under wraps, isn’t he? Also he’s not a bloke
you’d want to cross.’

Iqbal puffed up his chest and adopted an expression of horror. ‘If you’re suggesting—’

Bradley rested both knuckles on the desk and leant forward. He was right in Iqbal’s face.

‘Joey Phelps is a gangster, Doctor Iqbal. Currently under investigation for several murders including that of a police officer. What do you think is going to happen when it comes out that
you’re involved with him? Possibly even aiding and abetting his crimes? A full-blown media shit-storm is going to engulf this place and your high-priced clients, your pop stars and bankers
– they’ll be running for cover. Best-case scenario? One of the regulatory bodies closes you down and you go broke. Want to hear the worst?’

Iqbal was a small man, but he had some backbone. He glared straight back at Bradley. ‘This is intimidation, pure and simple. I shall be reporting you to your superiors and contacting my
lawyers.’

Bradley returned his hands to his pockets. ‘That’s your privilege sir.’

Nicci cleared her throat. ‘I apologize Doctor Iqbal. We have no wish to intimidate or even upset you. My colleague was merely trying to make you fully aware of the serious situation
you’re in.’

Iqbal blinked at her, got up from his desk. He was feeling decidedly hemmed in. He strode over to a side table, picked up a water carafe and poured himself a glass.

‘I’m merely attempting to fulfil my duty of care to a very vulnerable patient. I have no involvement in any criminality. And I refute the suggestion most strongly.’

Nicci and Bradley exchanged a covert glance. They had him on the ropes. Bradley strolled over to the window, folded his arms and gazed out. Nicci got to her feet and faced Iqbal.

‘Doctor Iqbal, no one expects you to be able to vet the families and connections of every patient you try to help.’ She spread her hands wide. ‘But when we come to you and tell
you that you are dealing with a serious and dangerous criminal, we expect your full cooperation.’

Iqbal sighed, replaced the glass on its tray. ‘I’m not lying to you. Natalie is in an extremely poor state.’

‘And we wouldn’t dream of subjecting her to a police interview.’

Iqbal’s gaze met Nicci’s. ‘Well, what do you want then?’

A small smile spread across Nicci’s face. She inclined her head. ‘This is a delicate situation for you and for us. We mean Natalie absolutely no harm. We simply want to get to know
her, easily, gently, we want to gain her trust and we want you to help us do that.’

Iqbal scrutinized Nicci’s face. Now he was curious.

‘So you would meet her not as police officers, because that would frighten her?’

‘That’s the last thing we want.’

Iqbal pondered, his restless fingers strayed and he started to rearrange the glasses and carafe on the tray.

‘And if I facilitate this, it would be an . . . entirely confidential matter between us?’

Nicci moved towards him. Her tone was gentle and reassuring. ‘If and when the case comes to court Joey Phelps will never know that we got to Natalie through you. We were thinking that
perhaps I could pose as a volunteer, maybe a former patient that you’ve treated, who comes back on an occasional basis to help out?’

Iqbal backed away from Nicci and took refuge behind his desk. He removed his glasses, took a tissue from the box at his elbow and started to polish them.

‘This really is most unethical you know.’

Bradley turned from the window and strolled back to his chair. Iqbal gave him a wary look, but Bradley smiled. ‘Thing is Doctor Iqbal, Natalie probably witnessed her boyfriend Jez Harris
being murdered by her brother. Once she gets clean and sober enough to remember that, what are you going to do with her? You can’t help her with that. In order for her to be protected and to
really recover and find any kind of life for herself, Joey needs to be behind bars. That’s what’s in your patient’s best interests.’

Nicci nodded. ‘DC Bradley’s right. The ethical choice here is the one that’ll achieve the best result for Natalie.’

Iqbal glanced from one to the other. He knew he was snookered. If he didn’t cooperate and the papers got wind of his connection to Phelps he would indeed be facing the media shit-storm
Bradley had promised. Phelps had paid him well, but not enough for this.

Woodcote Hall was a leading addiction facility, known for its results and its discretion. Many of its clients came from the families of the great and good. Moreover the equity fund that backed
Doctor Iqbal would take a very dim view of any adverse publicity. These were things a man in his position had to take into account. Natalie was a sad and difficult girl, damaged and full of
self-loathing. He felt for her, as he did for all his patients. But at the end of the day she was one patient. He had to act for the greatest good. And maybe if her brother went to prison it would
help her.

Iqbal leant back in his chair, steepled his fingers, a gesture he hoped would make him feel he had regained control of the situation. He stared straight at Nicci. ‘The fact of the matter
is Sergeant, I’ve only met Joey Phelps a couple of times. He describes himself as a businessman, something in the City. I was totally unaware of any criminal connection. Obviously, now
you’ve explained the situation, I wish to give you my full cooperation. And I think your scheme does offer a way of helping Natalie, whilst of course maintaining the strictest
confidentiality, which is essential to our work here.’

Nicci gave him a deferential nod. ‘That goes without saying.’

She smiled, glanced at Bradley, then back to him.

‘I think we understand one another Doctor Iqbal.’

Kaz had been waiting in the coffee shop for over half an hour. She clicked on her phone for the umpteenth time. It was five minutes later than the last time she looked. Helen
had warned her she might be late, she was in court, but hoped they’d break early for lunch. Ordinarily Kaz would’ve settled down, got out her sketchbook and used the time to explore all
the visual possibilities of the place, but today she was too jittery.

Sean’s release from jail had thrown her totally off balance. The party had ended badly. Joey had stormed off, Ellie berated Kaz for not stopping the fight sooner. Sean himself had sat
slumped on the kitchen floor, mumbling more threats, swearing to ‘teach that little prick a lesson he won’t forget’. When Glynis tried to drag him to his feet to take him home, he
landed her a heavy punch, which sent her flying. They left him in the kitchen to sleep it off.

Kaz had taken Glynis to the massive upstairs bathroom and bathed the gash on the back of her head. She’d caught the edge of one of the worktops as she went down. She sobbed hysterically,
perched on the side of the Jacuzzi. It was several minutes before she could manage to speak.

‘What am I gonna do? He’s gonna fucking kill me . . .’

Kaz dabbed gently at the oozing wound with a wet towel. ‘I think he’s more interested in killing Joey right now. And me.’

Glynis grabbed a bit of bog roll to wipe away the tears and snot, then fumbled with the straps on her shoes. ‘Hate these bleedin’ things. I got more corns than an old
granny.’

Kaz knelt down in front of her and unfastened the shoes. Glynis kicked them off. The heel on one had cracked when she fell.

‘What am I gonna do Kaz? I can’t live with him. All these years, he ain’t changed. He’s still the same bastard he ever was.’

Kaz sat down next to her on the side of the Jacuzzi. ‘How much money you got?’

Glynis seemed taken aback. ‘I’ve got a bit put by.’

‘What about Dave?’

Glynis shot her a nervous glance. ‘How d’you know about that?’

Kaz patted her hand. ‘Don’t worry, no one’s gonna tell on you. Runs a betting shop, don’t he?’

Glynis nodded. Her eyes were bloodshot with booze and ringed with claggy mascara, but she still looked like a frightened child.

Kaz watched her; on the surface they couldn’t be more different. Glynis had always been the daft dolly bird, tottering everywhere on spiked heels. Even as a teenager Kaz had despised her.
But scratch the surface and the same fear and desperation had blighted both their lives. Kaz could see that now and she made a decision. Sean wasn’t getting his own way, not with Glynis, not
with any of it. She took Glynis’s hand and squeezed it.

‘Listen to me. Sean’s got enough on his plate. So for now all you gotta do is disappear. You leave here tonight. You got somewhere?’

Glynis nodded. ‘Me and Dave’ve got a flat in Eastbourne. But he’ll soon find that.’

‘Don’t worry, I’m gonna talk to Joey and we’ll sort this out. I’ll get you some money. We got business contacts in Ibiza. You go out there for the winter,
we’ll find Dave some kind of job.’

Glynis stared at her in frank disbelief. ‘Always thought you hated me, you and your mum. I tried to be mates with Ellie, but she always made me feel so stupid.’

Kaz gave a dry laugh. ‘Mum became a junkie and I ended up in jail. I don’t think you’re the stupid one Glynis.’ She pulled out her phone. ‘Right, give me a number
where I can reach you . . .’

Kaz scanned the coffee shop. It was beginning to fill up with the lunchtime crowd. Her phone trilled and she pulled it out, expecting it to be Helen. What she found was a text from Glynis
informing her that she was back in Eastbourne and hiding out. Kaz had been big on promises after the party, when she hustled Glynis into a taxi and sent her off into the night. But now she had to
deliver and that wasn’t so easy. Joey had done his usual disappearing act and wasn’t answering his phone.

Kaz tapped out a reassuring reply to Glynis and as she looked up from her text she saw Helen sweeping across the room towards her. She was towing a large, wheeled case stuffed with files and
legal briefs. Her cheeks were pink, her blonde hair slightly awry. At the sight of her a nervous ripple swept up from Kaz’s stomach, she could feel her neck and face reddening. She thought
about standing up in the hope that would make her feel more in control of her own body, but she couldn’t quite manage it. All she could focus on was Helen.

No one else in her life had ever had this effect, caused this mixture of desire and confusion. Was this what was meant by ‘falling in love’? And would Helen notice and be scared
off?

Helen brought the trolley to an abrupt scraping halt, plonked down on the chair opposite to Kaz and swept her hair back angrily with one hand.

‘Bloody judge! Misdirected the jury utterly and completely. They were out for all of half an hour – not even time to review the evidence. My client gets four years. He’s
nineteen years old with a mental age of about eight.’

Kaz sat and watched, mesmerized by this display of energy and passion.

Helen exhaled heavily and finally looked at Kaz. ‘Sorry. You must’ve been waiting ages.’

Kaz smiled. ‘Not a problem. You want a coffee?’

‘I want a large vodka and tonic.’ Helen’s brow puckered into a frown as she realized what she’d said. ‘Sorry! I can’t seem to get anything right
today.’

Kaz reached across the table and put her hand over Helen’s. ‘Stop saying sorry. I’m just . . . pleased to see you.’

Helen checked her watch. ‘Shit. I’ve got a case conference at two.’

‘Then you should at least have a sandwich. Let me get you something.’

‘Never took you for the mother hen type.’ Helen had smiled as she said it, but her tone was sharp, almost a rebuke.

Kaz sat back in her chair, she felt as though she’d been slapped, gently, but a slap nonetheless. She dropped her gaze to the table top. ‘I was only trying to help.’

Helen took a deep breath, scrunched up her face in frustration. ‘Karen, I’m sorry, I . . . I don’t know . . .’ She sighed, raked her fingers through her hair.

‘Bad morning. Happens to us all.’ Kaz longed to touch her, stroke that hair, soothe her. But she didn’t think Helen would take kindly to such a display of affection in a public
place. She watched Helen paint on a smile.

‘So what have you been up to? How was “Uncle” Sean’s homecoming?’

‘Fine.’ What Kaz wanted to say, what she’d hoped and planned to say was that she was in a mess. Sean’s return had thrown everything into chaos. War was about to break out
in the Phelps family and she was slap-bang in the middle of it. She needed to talk it through, chart a sensible course. Above all she needed to know that Helen really cared about her. But she said
none of it.

As she watched Helen checking her phone she imagined tracing a line with her finger over the contours of Helen’s face, easing the furrow between her brows, stroking the straight, perfect
nose, running down across the slightly parted lips.

Helen clicked the phone off, turned to Kaz with her professional lawyer’s face.

‘Listen, there’s something I need to tell you. I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings.’

Kaz could tell from the tone that what was coming wasn’t going to be good. Also, unusually for Helen, she wasn’t meeting Kaz’s eye. Her gaze seemed to be focused somewhere off
to Kaz’s left.

‘What happened on Sunday was . . . well, it was lovely.’