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

There was no need to pay each person on the list a visit; that pleasure would be reserved for those who appeared towards the end of the search – the likely candidates. Bob Lawn had calculated that he could finish investigating this first liner before the next docked. The second process, however, would be more controlled as all passengers would be in situ and would not be leaving the ship until everything had been scrupulously checked and double-checked. He was a great believer in the modern criminal’s rationale of sending out a dummy run, a minor prize to trick law enforcement into taking their eye off the real prize. He finished his coffee and returned to the office. He felt recharged.

It was the medical records from the cruise that captured his eye and, in particular, an accident to a passenger that had occurred a short time before the cruise’s docking. He checked the date on the report and the name: Brinkman, Lynn. Sixty-seven years of age. Tripped on the stairs causing facial bruising and injury to her ankle. He flicked through the treatment given, cross-referencing with the passenger log. Partner was Arthur James Brinkman, seventy-one years old. He noted their address in Lytham St Annes. Within minutes he had found their booking details. The fact that they had stayed overnight and used the carpark facility for the duration of the cruise, brought a tingle, what he called his copper’s nose, when the mundane suddenly becomes exciting. He would call up the ship’s CCTV from the day of disembarkation and that from within the landing stage cruise terminal. He also wanted to interview the stewards who had looked after their cabin and also the porters. That request had been sent. If the itch was still there it would be to the hotel carpark he would then turn. He made a note to collate the material as soon as possible to ensure nothing was lost. He logged a Person’s Enquiry but it showed no previous police record for either Brinkman.

April had wasted no time and had liaised with colleagues at Wigan Police. Their co-operation in the case was assured. They had agreed to search for Sharon in the hope that they would be in a position to offer further information. Once she had been traced it was best, they thought, to use an independent, qualified Family Liaison Officer to instigate contact. At this stage, approaching the three homeless shelters in the town would be a step too far. They treated the details of those seeking help and support with strict confidence. Many might be running from abusive relationships and this was clearly understood by all concerned. Both the police and those involved with the homeless had strict professional guidelines and each was aware that those lines, unless in the cases of serious crime or to help prevent a serious crime, should not be crossed. A briefing of the PCSOs who worked the town centre had discovered that two females were regularly moved on from doorways and parks. At this stage, it was their responsibility to find Sharon and if possible, Kelly.

What April did not want to do at this stage was to scare her into vanishing – Kelly had done that effectively in the past and she was aware that this element of police work had to be handled sensitively. She had kept the team informed in the early briefing. She checked her watch. As well as sending information down the chain of command, she also had to show progress with her superior. Detective Chief Inspector Alex Mason had invited her to his office that afternoon on the pretext of assessing how she was settling in.

Driving down to the Liverpool Police Headquarters she approached the dock road, admiring the docks’ splendour. At this point they were still bustling and what she thought to be huge concrete grain stores intrigued her. She decided that when time allowed, she would find out more about her fascinating and historical new home. There were so many places to see away from the usual haunts that attracted the working police. She would make a mental list and The Cavern Club would be somewhere near the top.

Entering the station’s security gate, the guard instructed her where to park. The large, modern, red brick building was as close to the river front as the newer builds could be, the front being a UNESCO World Heritage site. Positioned next to the bus station and Liverpool One, the huge shopping area, it was ideally situated. A newer Police Transport Hub had been built further out of the city centre. She stood and admired the eight or nine floors and smiled at what appeared to be copper-coloured tinted glass; an architect with a sense of humour. She chuckled to herself.

Past the initial security, she slipped on the lanyard and headed for the seventh floor. She had met Alex on a few occasions, some here in this office but generally it had been back at Copy Lane. The door to his office, if you could call a pigeonholed area of an open-plan space an office, was ajar when she arrived. Checking her watch, she was a little early. She knocked, noticing his name on the door.

‘Come in April. Coffee?’

April smiled. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘Alex, please, when we’re within these four walls – sir we’ll keep for the more formal meetings.’ He raised his eyebrows as if ensuring she fully understood. He did not await a response. ‘Have a seat. Milk and sugar?’

‘Just black, please.’

There was only the one chair in front of his desk.

‘You’ll have heard we’ve one of the gang – the moped boys we’ve been after – in custody. As my old boss used to say, “If you wait long enough they come to you!”’ He chuckled and brought the coffee. ‘We’re lucky we had a quick-thinking colleague on patrol. Anyway, the rider’s downstairs. Doctor checked him yesterday and he’s fine to interview. We’re awaiting a Toxicology Report but we