Catch as Catch Can (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 1), Malcolm Hollingdrake [best large ereader .TXT] 📗

familiar with it, but Skeeter, that’s quite a different kettle of fish. My grandfather’s favourite tune was The End of the World by Skeeter Davis. Cheerful title and miserable tune but he loved it. The name was different and my mother was too easily influenced. You make the best of what you have I suppose but it wasn’t easy when I was a kid. Witch became preferable.’

April smiled. ‘Someone tried to nickname me Jester believing they were smart at school but the swift fist and the resulting bloody nose seemed to stop anyone else calling me anything but April. If you want me to take the paper dart to Brad, I’m heading for his desk.’

‘From April Fool I guess?’

April nodded before looking again at the retrieved paper dart in her hand.

‘Just a silly game we sometimes play,’ Skeeter explained, pointing to the snub-nosed dart. ‘Good to chat.’

As April moved away Skeeter called after her. ‘You’re the lucky one, with the failed swimmer I believe?’ The sarcasm in her voice rang out clearly. ‘I’m chasing down some bastards who think it’s clever to steal and snatch using scooters and motorbikes. They’re like will-o’-the-wisps these bastards but I’ll have them … Catch as Catch Can, that’s my game and I’m good at it.’

‘Story of my life, Skeeter.’ She winked, grinned and started to move away.

The phone vibrated on Skeeter’s desk. ‘Warlock.’ She listened raising one eyebrow and turned to look at April. ‘On my way.’ She put the phone into her pocket. ‘Scooter attack. Ormskirk market. Another student’s been targeted.’

April paused and looked back.

‘It’s rich picking there with the university. The kids wander around with their phones, earphones in and their bags facing the roadside. They’re oblivious to what’s going on. Community Police have been in to lecture and advise and they’ve put up posters but they’ll take no notice. The other week, a girl was dragged along the road for some distance resulting in a serious head injury. According to witnesses, the bag was round her body and so they stopped as cool as you like, the pillion on the scooter casually walked up to her, cut the strap, kicked her in the mouth and they rode off. This one is the second today, one down by the docks, almost identical to one yesterday. Been going on too long. There’s a greater depth to all of this if you ask me. Drugs. You mark my word.’

‘And nobody intervened as the girl was being dragged?’ April sounded incredulous as she moved back and leaned on the desk.

‘A person filmed it on their mobile instead of using it to ring 999, tosser, and before you ask, nothing from that. The bike’s been found, but it’s a charred mess and we know it was stolen. These bikes can get where muck can’t and there are enough ginnels and snickets about for them to weave their escape. They plan well and we suspect these attacks are part of an organised gang, probably based here in Liverpool.’

‘How many of these attacks have been recorded to date?’

‘Across the region we have twenty-two reported but many will have gone unreported. The public is losing faith which is, I’m sad to say, understandable. With the shortage of man power and the rise in the more serious crimes it’s hardly surprising that these cases slip through the net. I think we’re only seeing the tip of the iceberg.’

‘You know what the iceberg did to the unsinkable? It sank it and if we don’t get a grip of the smaller crimes we’ll be sunk as a force too,’ April added in all seriousness.

Skeeter pointed to a map of the north west containing red spots that was on the far wall.

‘The spots represent places of attacks but if you broaden the boundary to include the other forces you can double that figure. They’re marked in yellow and green. Let’s not forget that those fourteen have resulted in two stabbings and the injury I’ve just mentioned. What we do know, April, is that these people are not riding to and from the towns. They’re being transported in the backs of vans before being released; they then meet up again at a set rendezvous point. As I said, it’s planned and well-executed. We also believe that it might be the arse end of a drug run, county line in modern parlance. An easy way to meet up with kids, drop off and collect. The sad fact is, we note there’s greater activity at the end of the day when schools are out and during holidays. It’s easier to order a drug drop today than ordering a kebab and drugs might be safer too.’ She winked.

April looked directly at Skeeter’s blue eye; she found it easier to focus on the one that looked alive.

‘I don’t suppose CCTV has helped?’ She did not wait for a reply before adding, ‘I’ll not delay you. Good hunting. And Skeeter, let’s see if we can be a little more combative against these mopeds. It’s worked in London. Leave it with me and I’ll take it higher.’

‘Ta!’

Pete Bradshaw was busy cross-referencing information on his computer screen, his finger following the highlighted information. Post-it notes of various colours were stuck to the wall by the side of his desk giving it a furfuraceous quality. The slight movement of air from the fan hidden within the back of the computer seemed to make the lower portion of Post-its flutter as if alive. An image that did not move was a photograph of a metal statue, waist deep in water, taken at sunset. It was one of the many Anthony Gormley figures set in the sand at Crosby. The sky and part of the beach looked like fire, the rest of the sand resembled quicksilver. April stood for a minute fascinated by his expression of concentration before launching the dart onto his desk. ‘Bandits at two o’clock. It’s from your admirer.’ She flicked her head in the direction of Skeeter’s desk.

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