Catch as Catch Can (The Merseyside Crime Series Book 1) by Malcolm Hollingdrake (any book recommendations .txt) 📗

her about The Corner Stone, the charity set up to help the homeless and support families in need – food banks and the like. They run night shelters around here. It was there we met again.’

‘Was there anything you noticed about her?’ Paula hated the sound of her own voice and cringed a little. ‘Did she talk much about her past?’

‘She went through everything. I thought I’d had a bad life but she … and her being in a gang. She used to call herself Chelle Pearson … think it was Pearson, and then with the loss of her fella.’ There was a long pause. ‘She told me his name too. I try to remember by putting the things or names next to a picture. She had a piece of his clothing; said she could still smell him and that helped.’

‘What was his name, Sharon? This is so important.’

Chapter 26

Bob Lawn paused the fast-forwarding video each time someone appeared in shot. He had decided to concentrate on the one camera showing the car until the owner arrived. From tracking times, he could look at the others from around the building. On this occasion he slowed the moving image as the smartly dressed man, briefcase in hand, approached the car.

‘Bingo!’ He continued to observe. The pattern was familiar. The boot was opened and he saw him drop in the briefcase. He watched as the other case, the one Brinkman had left was checked: it was not opened, only weighed in his hands before being replaced. It had been over forty-eight hours since the case had been deposited. This group was good. Professional and not hurried, Bob thought, but maybe just not good enough.

He viewed the other cameras in the building and still images of the man were taken to be run in conjunction with facial recognition software. Bob already knew that the car plates were cloned. However, the information came back suggesting the car had recently been resprayed a different colour and was stolen a month prior to the car being detected. Finding it now would be useful but not essential and if he were honest, unlikely. He organised a watch on Arthur and Lynn Brinkman’s home. He also requested details of their banking history.

April watched as Eileen Toland grew more anxious as the noise of the search became louder. The occasional crash brought both frustration and anger to her features. ‘Damage will have to be paid for, you do know that?’

April did not reply. Within twenty minutes of searching the area under the stairs, an officer dressed in a full protective paper suit, gloves and shoes appeared in the room. Approaching April, he raised his eyebrows. April stood and followed him out of the room. He pointed to the door. A free-standing lamp had been erected.

‘Far end.’

Two laptops were visible along with a small velvet box. She removed her phone and took a photograph as did the second officer. Returning to the lounge she immediately returned to her seat, remaining silent for a moment. She allowed her gaze to pass from one Toland to the other, becoming aware of Francis’s increased anxiety. Brad glanced at April and frowned.

‘Do you want to tell us anything, Mr Toland? I seem to recall you suddenly had a memory flash on the previous occasion we met.’

He lowered his head and nodded. ‘I took them,’ he mumbled, his words being swallowed by his cardigan.

‘Sorry, we didn’t catch that,’ April responded, raising her voice so everyone could hear.

‘I took them!’ he yelled, startling Brad and making him jump. It was the first time they had heard his voice raised. He turned to his wife. ‘Say not a bloody word to me, you!’

The mouse roared, thought Brad as he quickly positioned himself between husband and wife, unsure as to what might happen next on seeing her face contort in pure anger.

‘You?’ Eileen asked. ‘You?’

It was clear that it had been as much a surprise to her as it was to April and Brad.

‘She, Chelle, gave them to me. She said they were Abid’s, her bloke’s, and she was frightened someone might take them when she was out. That was a while after he went missing. Gave me the box too to keep safely. I put them under the stairs, well out of the way behind years of crap.’

‘Francis! Language. Watch your language in this house!’

He just turned and glared at her, angered by her pettiness.

‘Did you look at them, open them, the box?’ April pressed.

‘No, I just wanted to help the girl. She was always civil to me, as was her bloke, like. One good turn and all that. What harm could it do? I could tell from her face she was worried. Maybe her mother’s accident.’

‘Did she actually mention her mother at that time?’

‘No. That was said in the call. It makes sense though, doesn’t it?’

April left the question hanging but his wife had something to say.

‘And you didn’t tell me about your little liaison with the girl from upstairs and her giving you things … to look after?’ She emphasised the words making it seem sordid and illicit.

‘For that very reason. You’d have said, no.’

‘We’ll be checking them, the last time they were used will be stored. You’ve not used them, Mr Toland?’

He shook his head. ‘No, and there’s nothing else unless madam here took anything when she went rooting round her flat.’ He looked directly at Eileen, a look of defiance now clearly written on his face.

‘How dare you! How bloody dare you!’

‘Language, dear, language.’ A smile cracked Francis’s lips. Clearly, his day had come.

Once the officers had photographed, bagged and labelled the items, they put them to one side. They opened the small blue box. Inside was some jewellery and a computer memory stick along with three small pieces of card. On each was a word: RADIO, COURIER and TRUCK. These items were probably the most precious objects they had … but the cards?

‘Possibly passwords,’ Brad offered.

‘You’ll be hearing from