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

tenants, apart from the disagreements and slamming of doors on occasion that is.’

‘So why did they call in? Because they were missing?’ She moved one of the nails with her thumb and it tightened on the lead.

‘She keeps a scooter-like moped in the yard at the back and although she’s not been seen, the bike went missing last night. There’s more. When they checked on the Merseyside Missing Persons’ website, they identified our Sandy Shore chap, the guy on the beach, as the bloke who stayed there and they also think that he had a similar tattoo to the one described. Could be a total time waster but …’

The pause before starting to answer was lengthened as April assimilated the information. It was unusual to reap such a bonus, two for the price of one and she immediately hung on Brad’s last few words … time wasters.

‘So where are we with that? Has someone visited to check it out?’

‘No, I thought you might like to visit and check it personally after all, ma’am, nothing ventured.’

‘Arrange it and have me picked up in fifteen minutes.’

Brad’s car was already outside the apartment when April arrived. After sending her driver away she climbed into the passenger seat beside Brad. He smiled.

‘This one.’

April’s glance followed his finger to her left. The house was immaculate. There was no garden and the front door opened directly onto the street. Positioned within the bay window she saw an Aspidistra in a brightly coloured pot.

‘Upstairs flat, you said? There’s only one entrance?’ On closer inspection she could see there were two doorbells.

‘There’s a back ginnel between this and the next row, but it’s been fitted with a security gate, an initiative by the council a few years back after having trouble with youths. These hidden rear passages once made great escape routes for youths when being chased by the police as well as being secluded corners for God knows what activities … just let your imagination run wild and you’ll have thought of some.’ He raised his eyebrows.

‘You mentioned that a scooter has been taken even though it was secured by having locked gates at either end. How come?’

‘Someone had a key or the combination?’

April read the report quickly detailing the call.

‘Come on. We’ll not learn anything sitting here.’

As they left the car, the front door was already opening. Eileen Toland was older than April had anticipated and more than a little overweight. She filled the door space with barely room to spare.

‘DI Decent and this is DC Bradshaw. You called 101 regarding a missing person’s enquiry?’

Eileen immediately started to speak, her rich and treacly Scouse accent was a clue to her origin. April stopped her.

‘It might be better to chat inside if that’s okay?’

Toland looked up and down the street but could see nobody.

‘Yes, do come in. Please wipe your feet.’

The lounge was neat and orderly. A large flat screen television dominated the space. Once seated, Eileen repeated what she had started to explain at the door.

‘Do you remember the last day you saw her, Mrs Toland?’

Toland pulled a face to suggest she was thinking hard about the question, and then looked across at her husband who sat looking blankly.

‘Er, it must have been a week last …’ She paused again. ‘…Wednesday, yes, Wednesday evening, about six. I know this because I’d had my hair done, and Michelle said she liked it. I bumped into her in the corridor there. She lives upstairs and we’d often chat. That’s right isn’t it, Francis?’

Brad looked at Toland’s hair and mentally tried to describe the colour, it was the hue of a two-day old bruise, a cross between grey and blue.

‘So, today’s Tuesday. Nearly a week, you believe? Is it usual for her to be absent for such a length of time? Could she have gone on holiday?’

‘I have rules, Ms … Decent, did you say?’

April nodded.

‘If the flat’s going to be left for any length of time, we tell each other, like. It’s so we can keep an ear out. You never know these days, especially round here. It’s not what it used to be. A lot of foreigners have moved into the street over the last few years. You just have to look at the bloody colours of some of the houses. Sorry for the language but blue, I ask you, and I know they don’t support the team at the end so that’s not the reason. To make matters worse some haven’t a word of English.’ She wrapped her arms under her ample bosom and swayed gently. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Liverpool’s always been a melting pot for all and sundry, being a port like but … well … I’ll say no more or you’ll consider me one of those racists and I can assure you that couldn’t be further from the truth.’

April thought of the number of expats who have gone to live abroad and had never taken the trouble to learn one word of the language but she did not comment.

‘Could your husband have heard from her and forgotten to mention it?’

Both turned to look at Francis whose face flushed. There was an embarrassing pause.

‘Forgot to say, love. I got a call a few days ago. She said she’d had to go visit her mother who’d had an accident, from what she told me it was serious. Said she’d had to dash off. She told me she’d given the key to a friend who was going to collect some of her stuff for her. You were out at bingo and I must have fallen asleep as I don’t remember either of them calling.’

April turned to look at Brad and they both quickly reached the same conclusion.

Brad slipped his hand in his pocket and withdrew an enhanced definition photograph of the girl taken from the shop’s CCTV showing what was determined to be the hand tattoo.

‘Did Michelle have a tattoo on her hand?’ He passed it to Mrs Toland. ‘I’m aware this isn’t