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

The sudden force of her fall whipped the strap from her as she crashed face first onto the road. She neither had time to scream nor hold out her hands. Her face meeting the cobbles took the full force. The second bike screamed past before turning right as the lead bike went left; a strategy to confuse. Both bikes had a rendezvous planned.

Quasim steered the moped to the end of Gower Street; it meant a left turn. He instinctively bumped the kerb and drove under a stone arch – a remnant of the old docks. He was on the pavement. Here he was free to squeeze every ounce of power from the feeble machine as he dodged those walking in either direction. Those seeing the approaching bike could avoid its path and move quickly to the sides. He could see the police headquarters to his right across The Strand and he raised his right hand and then his middle finger before turning to laugh with his pillion, and so he failed to see the two officers running towards their approaching bike; neither did he see one remove his baton before he crouched. As the moped passed, the officer threw the baton at the front wheel.

Quasim felt the sudden jerk, as the baton jammed within the spokes and the forks jarred and twisted the front wheel. The sudden jolt turned the bars to the right throwing his hands clear. It took only a second for Newton’s First Law to come into effect. As the bike came to a sudden halt, both bodies carried on travelling before crashing to the pavement. The bike’s engine screamed as if in protest.

Both officers were prepared; they each took a youth. The pillion, who seemed to travel the further, lay motionless. The force of the immediate ejection from the bike had removed his ill-fitting helmet and the left side of his skull had made contact with the pavement. He was going nowhere. Quasim had landed on his left shoulder and he knew instantly his collar bone was broken. Seconds later, when the officer pulled both arms behind him to attach the cuffs, it was confirmed to everyone in the vicinity. His piercing cry caused the seabirds sitting along the dock railing to take to the air. The bike engine had now stopped screaming. The bag and the camera had landed further along the pavement.

A crowd quickly gathered. Those whom the bike had narrowly missed were first on the scene quickly followed by a police car. The officer let his right knee rest in the small of Quasim’s back as he called for medical assistance.

Chapter 22

Lucy could hear the light beat of a rhythm being tapped out before she saw April. She paused and watched from a distance. April let the sticks hit the wad of paper before finishing with one last strike, the stick hit the side of a cup as if it were a cymbal. It was as that last stick struck its target that she noticed Lucy. She smiled and let one of the sticks swirl as if attached to her fingers. It was like magic.

‘Very impressive. I’ve seen professional drummers do that. Played long?’

‘Just a hobby. Gets rid of all the inner demons and by golly this job brings enough of those. Thanks for the call last night. So, we’ve located Kelly in Wigan and she’s been identified by both name and the tattoo?’

‘According to this we have. We also know where she might have stayed last night.’ Lucy waved the envelope she had collected the previous evening.

‘Just in case, I’m treading carefully. Don’t add this to the board yet, Lucy, I have to clear a path to get to this girl without making her run. I need to find a way to communicate and get her to trust me.’

‘Good luck with that challenge. It might be easier to plait smoke.’

Lucy dropped the envelope on the desk and left April as she picked up the phone. Arriving in the corridor she met Tony.

‘How’s my Bond girl? Good night?’ He whistled the Bond tune.

Taking up a karate stance she whispered, ‘Pub this time or did I already tell you that? We think we’ve found the girl. Sorry, that’s factually incorrect being a copper. We’ve located Kelly’s whereabouts; we just have to work out a way to get to her and then get her to chat with us.’

‘Mission impossible.’

‘You watch too many films.’

‘A couple of homeless hostels there I’d have thought. Brad was asking earlier. Have you heard about the officer who’s foiled the moped mugging? His quick thinking’s got two in custody, well, one, the other has a severe head injury. Was just going to let Skeeter know. She’ll be made up.’

The results of Malik Buruk’s post mortem had come through. Skeeter wasted no time. Further trawling had shown his past criminal affiliations. There was also evidence that he was under surveillance by a neighbouring force for inappropriate sexual activity with minors, information which is not generally logged within the main system for obvious reasons. Aware that his name was linked with a child grooming gang, the investigation, she knew, would be kept concealed. Skeeter laughed. It was more likely they didn’t want to upset a racial applecart as we’ve been seeing all too clearly within other forces, she thought, and she was not the only one to hold this opinion. Clear guidelines had dropped on most desks.

There had been too many cover-ups and she, for one, was growing tired of the manner in which certain elements of society were treated preferentially as if they were immune from public scrutiny. From directives she had received from those higher up within the force, she had on occasion, felt hobbled. It seemed she must tread on egg shells when dealing with accusations of criminal activity within certain ethnic minorities. She had been reprimanded twice for voicing her concerns. This was one reason she believed promotion was slow in coming her way.

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