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

fact, Beverley Gittings. The severity of the wounds and the position in which the girl was found, trapped and cornered, deeply affected Lucy. She could not envisage just what the girl’s final minutes of terror would have been like. Pausing, she tried to visualise those last moments but other than a flush of nausea she had little concept. Nobody should die like that, no matter what they did or had done.

CCTV footage had been received from businesses surrounding the cemetery and a positive lead was being investigated. The Peugeot was traced to an address in Mond Road, Widnes. The owner was unaware of its disappearance as he was on holiday in Benidorm. The vehicle had been recovered and was with Forensics.

‘Gang war, patch war, turf war. Call it what you will there’s little respect for property or people,’ Brad grumbled as he tapped the table with a drumstick.

Lucy frowned, eager to show him the video. She pulled a face and looked at the object he held up.

‘It was on the boss’s desk, a pair in fact. Saw her tapping away yesterday. She can beat out a rhythm.’

‘I’d put it back just where you found it. Women get particular about their personal items being handled by strange men. Then pop back here. The relevant footage from the Asda carpark CCTV has been forwarded.’

He was back within minutes.

‘She’ll know they’ve been touched; women always do. I’ll say nothing just blame the cleaner! Only this once, though.’

Brad flushed but did not reply before settling to watch the large screen.

‘There!’ Lucy paused the footage and pointed to the screen. ‘Behind that tree. One coming over the wall and then going out of shot.’

She checked the notes then restarted the video footage and they both focused on that area. A second and then a third figure could just be seen illuminated by the carpark lights.

‘Can it be improved?’ Brad asked.

‘Not according to this report but be patient.’ She explained that the next section of footage was from the junction of the A562 and Wellington Avenue.

‘That’s here!’ Brad pushed across an electronic tablet showing Google maps.

‘You can see from the time that’s probably one of the three. The time difference is accurate. It was presumed that they then went directly to Bagot Street as we have footage of them on the corner. Look at the body language. He’s moved to the left as if keeping out of sight from the main road. He’s clearly unaware of this specific camera.’ She checked the notes.

As there was no sound recording the next movement caused Brad to sit back from the screen. The motorcycle suddenly moved quickly into the shot. He watched as the person climbed onto the pillion and the bike vanished off screen.

‘Planned, even down to the pickup. Close inspection shows the bike doesn’t have a registration plate.’ Lucy removed the memory stick.

‘Pillion didn’t have a helmet,’ Brad announced, the sound of frustration clearly audible. ‘Not enough coppers on the beat and they know it. These bikes can get where shit can’t. It’ll either have been burned, in bits somewhere or playing at being a Mersey submarine right now.’

‘I guess the other two were collected from different rendezvous points but nothing on camera so far.’ Lucy shrugged her shoulders.

Chapter 18

Arthur Brinkman checked the memo that had been left in their cabin and then the coloured debarkation tag already attached to the one piece of hand luggage. According to the colour they were due to leave the vessel at eleven thirty and the deck was clearly marked on the plan. They had watched the cruise director’s briefing on the television in their room and although this was the first conclusion to a cruise holiday, they had disembarked before during the trip.

‘We’re in the hands of …’ he paused as the word God suddenly seemed inappropriate.

‘Neptune, my dear. He might watch over his fellow seafarers but somehow, I doubt it. We’re now well and truly on our own. Any regrets?’

‘At my age?’ He shook his head. ‘It’s like tossing a coin, love. We either win or lose.’ Although the words sounded negative there was a positivity in his tone as he started to whistle.

Skeeter could barely contain her excitement as she sat in the car looking at the kebab shop. She nursed her mobile and kept checking the time. She was early, very early. She would be meeting with Jane Fairhurst from Liverpool Council’s Environmental Health who had agreed to the visit. She was herself eager to review the establishment after the poor result in the Food Hygiene Rating Scheme.

Skeeter’s phone rang. She answered and listened as she saw the white Ford pull up further along the road. Jane was early. Leaving the car, Skeeter stopped by the vehicle.

‘Are you alone?’ Skeeter asked expecting to see at least two people.

‘Always, one of the reasons I might be moving away from this role. It can happen especially when the owners don’t like my findings, that they attempt to, let’s say, bribe their way out of a situation.’

‘Money?’

Jane laughed. ‘Usually flattery. “Why’s a lovely young lady like you trawling round places like this?” The best is when they try to offer you food to take home. They don’t realise you’ve just condemned the place so why you’d want to eat their cooking is beyond all comprehension.’

Skeeter remembered that Malik had offered Tony his kebab on the house. She had already decided they were suspect before the offer but that had put the cherry on the cake of guilt.

‘This will be a reappraisal and not a full inspection,’ Jane mentioned as she straightened her ID that hung from a lanyard. ‘I have photographs from the previous visit recorded by a colleague and we’ll do some comparatives, take samples and check the paperwork. The fact that you’re with me will either inflame or calm the situation. We’ll see.’ Jane smiled and quickly checked through her bag retrieving a body cam, a small square camera that she attached to her lapel.