Syn (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 2) by Malcolm Hollingdrake (best authors to read TXT) 📕

were many people there I didn’t know. I just took a few photographs. I was aiming at nobody in particular.’

April leaned across and collected it before opening the laptop. She found the edited CCTV footage of the night Carlos was caught on CCTV with the man in question and turned it towards Gaskell. ‘This, Mr Gaskell, is footage of the same man taken last night. Please take your time.’

‘I’ve just told you; I don’t know him. What’s wrong with you people? Would you prefer it if I told you that I recognise him but I don’t know his name?’

April held up her hand to stop his protest before retrieving the laptop. She moved the track pad and found the next file. Starting it, she turned the screen to face Gaskell.

As the video started, Skeeter and April paid particular attention to Gaskell’s face. Within a minute he looked at both officers. ‘Where the fuck did you get that?’

‘Your telephone records. Would you like to tell us about this? From what our experts report, it clearly constitutes rape. Carla Sharpe is certainly not in a position to give her consent.’

The silence was deep, thick and viscous. Neither side seemed to want to penetrate its surface.

‘Jennings was so concerned for Carla, he rushed to help. He got into that very same car. There was some reluctance but I repeated the same to him, that Carla had once said to me when I couldn’t, “Just do it!” Those were always her words and so they’ve stuck in my mind ever since. I was with her on the treatment table and when she said it, I was so angry. Comes from Nike, you know that of course, but do you know who the real Nike is?’

He moved within inches of Carlos’s face. ‘The winged goddess of Victory, speed and strength. I became that winged person seeking out revenge. At school it was easy. It was subtle. Their bike would go missing, their clothing after PE. Little things, you might say, childish acts, but each mattered to me. Each deserved a tick on my wall … a swoosh!’ He placed the point of the scissors on Carlos’s forehead and traced the mark of a tick. He applied enough pressure to compensate for the instinctive jerking of his head, a backwards movement in an attempt to avoid the weapon. Blood soon beaded from the cut and quickly diluted with the salty sweat.

As the pain seared through him, Carlos realised that the man he had spent his lunch with, the man with whom he had shared his evening meal, a drink and had a laugh with was not now the same man. Fear forced his bottom lip to tremble and as his knees bounced, more tears appeared.

‘Did you know the name Nicola comes from the name Nike? Strange, the coincidences in this life we live.’ He wiped the blood from his head with the item of Carla’s clothing and tossed it on the floor.

‘Let me tell you something else. We’ll have a warrant to search your property, Mr Gaskell, whilst you are held here under arrest. It’s being organised as I speak. That will allow the removal of any other computers, electronic tablets and items of electronic storage we might find. When you’ve been an officer for some years you are never surprised by how many old phones or SIM cards people keep. To cap all of that, we’ll even organise a solicitor for you, unless of course you would prefer to get your own. This situation might not have been necessary if we’d had your full co-operation from the start. We’re going to call on your ex-wife and chat to her. Stirs the mud from the bottom of a clear pond all of this, don’t you think? Hiding facts always makes the water so murky, we can rarely see the truth.’

‘I did not take that photograph on my phone. It is at the apartment; I do recognise my own interiors but I didn’t take that.’

Neither April nor Skeeter spoke and the silence again grew thick. April began to allow her fingers to beat a rhythm on the tabletop. It was soft and in a way soporific.

‘It’s my son,’ Gaskell mumbled.

Skeeter looked at April.

‘Say that again.’

He’s my son, and I’m sure you’re barking up the wrong bloody tree. He’s not a killer.’

‘When did you last see your son?’ April had stopped drumming, her concentration now focused directly on him.

‘It’s hard to believe, we both live here in Southport but I haven’t seen him for five years, maybe more. You lose track.’

‘We’re all ears.’

Lloyd regarded Carlos as his head lay to the right. The blood had stopped from the scratch made by the scissors’ point.

‘I’m not going to kill you, Carlos. You’ve done me no harm. Unless of course, you don’t do as you’re told. In a strange way, I’ve come to like you. I admire the loyalty you’ve demonstrated to Carla and your boss. So why are you here? I hear you ask yourself in that confused brain of yours. You’re here, Brian, as bait. You’re my sprat to catch a bully mackerel.’

Carlos started to move and squirm within the chair. The look in his eyes suggested one thing to Lloyd, he needed the toilet.

‘Toilet?’

Carlos nodded frantically.

‘You can’t. It must stay here. Sorry, Carlos.’

Lloyd watched as the dark stain flushed the front of his trousers and then ran down each leg before pooling by either shoe. He watched the tears run, too, as Carlos strained against the tape.

‘Sorry. You must believe me, how sorry I am. If this works and I have them all then you’ll be free and that,’ he pointed to the puddles, ‘is but a small price to pay.’

Chapter 27

Gaskell fumbled with his fingers, his nerves clearly beginning to show before he looked directly at April. ‘His mother and I were never married. He was illegitimate but to me an unnecessary bastard. In my opinion neither of us