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

footage from the cameras that surround this place is being run with facial recognition software and before you say it DI Decent has cleared it. I take it you’ve heard the Met has made their first arrest using the system and if that moves to a conviction, I can see it being a wonderful weapon. We don’t shout about it as every human rights activist will rise up and be supported from the shadows by every bloody criminal. They’ll be up in arms about the erosion of their liberty. It’s going to be a long day.’

By one in the afternoon, they had drawn a blank. The photograph of the dead man brought more comments but no direct response. A bent Just Eat sign caught Tony’s attention. ‘Bloody starving. I believe you Woollybacks, you Wiganers, call it clempt? All this fresh air. Fancy a kebab?’

Skeeter looked at the shop front and then the food hygiene rating. ‘Nope, but we have to go in. You can do and eat just what you want. I’ve seen you eat your fingernails so a dose of Escherichia coli better known to you mortals as Salmonella would stand no chance against you. Come on.’

Skeeter held up her warrant card. Malik leaned over the counter to read it. ‘Police?’

He noticed her eyes but said nothing, immediately turning to look at Tony as if he were the more important. Skeeter tapped the counter with her finger before sliding the photograph across to him.

‘This chap used to live close by. Have you seen him before Mr—?’

‘Malik, plain and simple Malik.’

Malik brought the photograph towards his face and studied it. ‘The guy found on the beach? Heard about it. If he looked like that, he’d be better off in Anfield Cemetery, love, not ordering food from me. My kebabs are good but don’t work miracles. We haven’t seen Chelle Pearson either. He handed back the photograph.’

‘Chelle?’ Tony quickly responded.

‘The chatter around here has never stopped. Her landlady is better than the television news. Now, I’m busy, is there anything else?’

Skeeter looked around the empty shop. ‘Cleaning and food hygiene prep I take it. Looking at the sign on your window you’re a past master at that.’

The door at the far end of the room opened releasing a strong aroma of food accompanied by eastern music. A man appeared.

‘You OK, Malik?’

Malik nodded. ‘The police. I’m helping with their enquiries. You know me, Flam, always ready to help the community.’ He grinned widely and Skeeter noticed the gold teeth.

‘I think we’re done. I’ll take a döner kebab,’ Tony added. He brought some change from his pocket. ‘Skeeter?’

She shook her head and watched Flam close the door. ‘Flam? Unusual name.’

‘Short for Flamur. Albanian and before you ask, he’s legal, legit. Now, is there anything else you want to know?’ He did not hide the sarcasm in his tone. Malik looked at her and then back at Tony. Collecting the long-bladed knife he sliced the pitta bread and put it to warm, turned and went over to the vertical meat spit. He began to slice, collecting the meat on a small metal scoop. As his back was facing the counter, he allowed a dribble of saliva to fall onto the meat before covering it with another slice. Returning he filled the bread, adding onion and parsley. ‘On the house.’ Malik smiled. ‘Full of Eastern promise. Enjoy!’

Tony dropped money onto the counter. ‘Official rules.’ They left.

Skeeter turned to look at Malik, her expression quizzical.

‘Hope your eye gets better soon, Skeeter.’ Malik grinned, the glint of gold adding insult to injury.

Tony heard her grunt and he instinctively grabbed her shoulder.

‘Not now. We have unfinished business.’ He felt her body relax and they moved away.

It took barely ten minutes from their leaving the shop to Sadiq’s mobile ringing. Malik knew Sadiq would have been informed of the police’s visit.

Tony watched Skeeter move quickly to her desk. The anger was no longer on the surface but he sensed her deep resentment. She was like a terrier and Malik and company had kicked her. He moved through to the kitchen to make a brew. Brad was there leaning against the sink.

‘Had a good day so far, Tony? Saw Skeeter from the window here when you pulled up. Looked like she was chewing a wasp.’

‘Someone’s upset her and she has this nag, the copper’s nag she keeps going on about. Kebab shop near Goodison. You’ll read all about it on the board. Shit hole really but made a tasty kebab. Funny they had an unusual way of monitoring the place and I think that might have stimulated her nag but it’s probably just hunger. Plain and simple Malik really got to her.’ He laughed and threw a teabag into some hot water.

Brad just looked. ‘Quelle finesse, mate, quelle finesse. Malik. Remind me not to mention it when I see her.’ He leaned over, touched Tony’s arm and smiled. ‘Let’s not aggravate the witch.’ He winked and left.

Lucy had researched the three remaining names on the list and was now beginning to feel foolish for doubting April Decent. It had made her appreciate the growing respect she felt for her new boss. Each name had a criminal past, each was in some way linked to drugs. One in particular fascinated her – Beverley Gittings. She read the file. The jurisdiction of this fair land of ours has been extremely lenient, she thought as the number of offences was revealed. Prostitution, drink and drug related crime. Here was another girl who had faced all the hardships from birth. Parents were both drug addicts, she was supported through school but had little to show for her time there. Father died of a drug overdose. The mother was imprisoned for breaking all four legs of Beverley’s pet dog as punishment for her coming home empty-handed when she was fourteen. The more she read the more she had a degree of sympathy for the girl. She was still only nineteen, the