Shadows. Paul Finch

run with this for a couple of weeks, Stan. But we haven’t got the resources to cover every cashpoint in the borough.’

      ‘I anticipated that, ma’am,’ Lucy said, unfolding another sheet of paper, this one a street-map of central Crowley. ‘That’s why I suggest we focus on these particular cashpoints here.’ She spread it on the desk, indicating ten separate locations which she had marked with biro crosses.

      DI Blake stood up to assess it properly.

      ‘Ten of them,’ she said. ‘Only ten?’

      ‘I guessed we’d have to concentrate our resources to a degree,’ Lucy explained. ‘So, these, to me, will be his most likely targets. I’ve chosen them on the basis that he’ll do his research. He’ll have to – he’s a stranger in town, or at least he’s not a resident, so he’s not going to be overly familiar with the layout.’

      She glanced at Beardmore, who remained studiedly indifferent. She could imagine that he wasn’t best pleased at the amount of attention she’d clearly been paying to this particular case, when she was supposed to be concentrating on something else. On the other hand, he ought to be a little proud that she was now demonstrating to the head of a specialist unit just how thorough and professional his own divisional officers could be.

      ‘Go on,’ Blake said. ‘I’m listening.’

      ‘Well … all of these work in his favour, ma’am,’ Lucy said. ‘They’re all in areas extensively covered by CCTV, but he’s got a hood. And the fact it’s a mucky October means he can walk the streets with his hood drawn up and not attract any attention. So, he’s got that base covered. In addition, they’re all out in the open.’ She moved her index finger from one point to the next. ‘A high street, a junction with traffic lights, the edge of the market square …’

      ‘And that’s an advantage to him?’ one of Blake’s underlings asked.

      Detective Sergeant Danny Tucker had been summoned over to join them by Blake as soon as she’d learned about the case. Lucy had spotted him walking around the station before, but hadn’t really known who he was. This was the first time they’d been up close together, let alone had spoken. It was perhaps a minor distraction that Danny Tucker was just about the best-looking guy Lucy had seen in the job for quite some time. Of West Indian extraction, but by the sounds of it born right here in Manchester, he was tall, about six-three, with hair cut short and an athlete’s build, which was visible even through his figure-hugging polo-neck sweater. He had a square jaw, high, strong cheekbones, and bright, intelligent eyes.

      ‘Well, yeah,’ Lucy said. ‘He attacks late at night, and not many people are likely to go out to a cashpoint late at night unless they feel relatively safe. These particular cashpoints, because they’re out in the open, will probably be deemed safer than most.’

      ‘So, if he hangs around these, there’s basically more chance he’ll get lucky,’ Blake said.

      ‘That’s my reading of it, ma’am, yes.’ Lucy’s finger roved further across the street map. ‘These points also benefit from having getaway routes everywhere. A side passage through to a pedestrianised shopping mall, from where there are half a dozen other points of egress. A subway … An overpass that leads to a housing estate. Plus, and this could be very important, they’re all in close proximity to free on-street parking.’

      ‘You think he’s mobile?’ Blake said.

      Lucy shook her head. ‘I don’t know, ma’am. You dress up like a lunatic, pick someone at random, cut them down with a sword and just run off into the night, in most cases leaving them alive to shout for help … you’d normally be asking for trouble. I mean that wouldn’t just draw attention to the scene of the crime, but to you and to whichever route you’ve used to get away. That would normally be the trademark of a disorganised attacker who’s doomed to get nicked pretty quickly. Unless, as we’ve already said, it’s a part of an act, the purpose of which is to conceal the fact he’s actually a very organised offender indeed. I mean, while the cops are running around looking for a grinning maniac, he’s removed his disguise and miraculously become an ordinary citizen again, happily driving home to his house in the suburbs … or something like that.’

      Blake contemplated this.

      ‘Of course, he’s not going to leave his motor on an actual car park,’ Lucy added. ‘I mean, they’re covered much more intensively by security cameras than on-street, and that would reveal his VRM.’

      ‘You’ve really done your homework on this, haven’t you?’

      Lucy shrugged modestly.

      Blake sat back on her swivel-chair to chink. ‘DC Clayburn? Aren’t you the lass who arrested Timothy Lennox? Cleared up a whole bunch of historical murders?’

      ‘That’s right, ma’am. Last winter.’

      ‘Good collar, that. You also led the undercover op that brought down the Twisted Sisters over in Longsight, didn’t you?’

      ‘I didn’t lead the op, ma’am.’

      ‘She was a leading light in it,’ Beardmore grunted. ‘They couldn’t have done it without her.’

      Blake chewed on her pen. ‘Have you ever thought about coming to work for me in Robbery Squad?’

      Beardmore pointedly harrumphed – a message Lucy received loud and clear.

      ‘It’s certainly something I’d be interested in, ma’am,’ she said. ‘But well, I’ve got quite a bit of work on in CID at the mo.’

      Blake shrugged. ‘We haven’t got any vacancies at present, anyway. But if something comes up, I’ll get Danny here to give you a shout, so you can get your application in early.’

      ‘I will, ma’am. Thank you.’

      ‘Okay.’ Blake shuffled the paperwork. ‘Leave this lot with me. I’ll keep you informed.’

      Lucy nodded and smiled, and as she left the office, walking side by side with Beardmore, felt completely re-energised. It was always a thrill to think you’d made an impact on someone who counted.

      But they were only halfway down the stairs, when Beardmore said: ‘Don’t get any ideas about that. Robbery Squad are an effective unit, but you know what things are like. One day the money’s there, the next it isn’t. Friday night, they lock up a load of blaggers. Saturday night, they celebrate it. Monday morning, they’ve all been shunted back to Division.’

      Lucy wasn’t sure how to respond, but she knew that he was right.

      ‘Hey, Lucy!’ someone called down from the top of the stairs.

      They turned and saw Danny Tucker descending.

      ‘Sarge?’ she replied.

      ‘Quick word?’ he asked.

      Taking the hint, Beardmore turned and continued down. ‘Just remember, the jobs are piling up,’ he said over his shoulder.

      Lucy turned back to Tucker, who grinned, displaying a neat row of pearly whites.

      ‘This is good stuff you’ve brought us,’ he said. ‘Thanks very much.’

      Unsure how to reply, she nodded.

      ‘We’re actually working a big case at present,’ he said.

      ‘Yeah, I saw the pics. That’s the Saturday Street Gang, isn’t it?’

      ‘Oh, you heard about that?’

      ‘How could I not? Seven cash-in-transit robberies in two months. But I didn’t know Saturday Street had done any jobs on the N.’

      ‘Well … they haven’t,’ Tucker admitted. ‘But when we were still the Manchester Robbery Squad, our unit was getting very close to them. It only seemed reasonable we should continue the enquiry after they broke us up. It’d be a feather in our cap if we could pull