Catch as Catch Can (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 1) by Malcolm Hollingdrake (popular books to read .TXT) 📕

of Sadiq’s apartment. Letting the film run at speed, his finger hovered over the mouse. It was only on one occasion if he recalled and she had been accompanied. The person with her was aware of the camera and never looked in its direction. He clicked the mouse, enlarging the image. On cross checking, he realised his hunch had borne fruit.

He called Paula over and showed her both images. She leaned closer. ‘The same girl. Involved? But Kelly didn’t know her. I might seem a fool but I know my job and they hadn’t met before. I can assure you of that.’

‘In gangs like this there are people who will never meet. It’s done that way for security. Trust few and if possible, trust no one. That’s their motto.’ He rang April.

Chapter 35

Night had overtaken the evening and the eastern sky’s black cloak had settled along the west coast. There was nothing facing but darkness as they approached the carpark by Crosby Marine Lake. Skeeter checked Michael’s text one more time before driving to the far end and manoeuvring round some bollards. The footpath along the lake edge was made from tarmac and was a car’s width.

April looked around her. ‘Where the hell are we going? We’re supposed to be looking for the girls. Kelly may well be in harm’s way and we’re joyriding here!’

Skeeter turned briefly; her one blue eye bright in the dashboard lights. ‘You’ll have to trust me.’

As they approached the sea, the track ran parallel, becoming a wider promenade. The beach wall and fence sat to their left. It was then Skeeter saw the car. She turned off her lights and stopped. ‘Out!’ She ran towards the car. It was empty. Approaching the sea wall, she peered into the dark. Eyes focused, she scanned a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree panorama. The sea’s surface reflected light and showed the water to be relatively close; the tide was on the way in. Following the steps down to the beach, she paused. Two indented lines, almost parallel in the sand, were clearly marked and brought an immediate end to her doubts. The start of an adrenaline rush heightened her senses.

April had also seen the tracks but they only brought further confusion. She just followed. It was then things changed rapidly. Crouching, Skeeter stopped and sent a hand signal to April to pause and remain silent. She had first seen the faint silhouette of an iron statue and then that of a figure appear from behind it. The person walked towards them, head down. There were no identifying features, the darkness had disguised those but she knew the gait, the height and the drop of the shoulders. The sound of his feet slopping through water grew louder. She waited, looked back at April before darting directly at her target. The sand, now wet underfoot, splashed as she pounded through the thin upper tide.

Once close she launched herself at the figure taking him completely by surprise. Her arm wrapped around his neck. An animalistic grunt surged from her taut lips as it always did when competing. She took hold before pulling the figure towards her, sending it upward and backward as she fell and twisted. The screams came spontaneously as he was hurled brutally over her right shoulder. Every move she made was controlled and precise. The man’s now stiff and unforgiving body mass arched through the air before making contact with the hard, wet sand. A slapping, splashing sound erupted that brought a smile to her lips. It was a perfect suplex under difficult conditions. She dropped his face into the water each time he struggled. He soon got the message.

April approached and switched on her phone torch. ‘It’s Bradshaw! Skeeter, listen, he’s one of ours! It’s Brad!’ As she spoke, she frantically tapped Skeeter’s shoulder in an attempt to get her to hear and respond.

‘Ekmek … fucking bread or as I call him, fucking barm cake.’ Her breathing was heavy but controlled. ‘Get help. He’s going nowhere and then check down there towards the statue. Bradshaw is going absolutely fucking nowhere.’

April called in for assistance and cautiously walked a short distance in the direction Skeeter had indicated. Water lapped even further over her shoes. To the front of the statue facing the sea was a prostrate figure. It seemed to levitate face down in the rising tide. The water’s incoming movement caused it to sway gently back and forth. April spotted the rope attached to the base of the statue and to the neck of the figure. An anchor. She turned the head out of the water. It was Kelly. Swiftly she checked for a pulse but there was none. Even so, she untied the rope and slipped her arms beneath her shoulders, dragged her up the beach and began CPR.

The foil blanket wrapped around Skeeter’s shoulders reflected blue as the number of strobe lights from the response vehicles illuminated the surroundings. A ship out in the estuary was a bank of lights. It attracted their gaze as they sat on the steps in quiet contemplation. The red beacons on the wind farm even further out in the Irish Sea, blinked their warnings to both those at sea and in the air.

‘How did you know?’ April moved the foil around Skeeter’s shoulders.

‘I discovered Brad hid part of the evidence from the tattoo parlour. At first, I thought it was his bloody absentmindedness, you know what he’s like. When we had both tattoos, they gave us a series of numbers and some Arabic squiggles. Abid was Albanian but I guessed he knew some Arabic. I asked one of the translators we use, a doctor from Whiston Hospital. He told me they roughly mean remember and betrayed. Didn’t make sense to me then but I knew it was significant. Michael helped solve the other elements. The numbers were linked with the ASCII code. What it really is I don’t fully understand but I knew numbers referred to letters and the numbers