The Inspector Walter Darriteau Murder Mysteries - Books 1-4 by David Carter (best finance books of all time .txt) 📕

Smugglers, currency exchange, opium dealers, blackmailers, for the main, though they weren’t beyond a little old-fashioned thieving when the opportunity arose. To achieve their aims they had remained in business through bribery and kickbacks to local officials, even in the most difficult of times, and when that didn’t work they would employ outright violence.

Knives were their speciality, always had been, attracted less attention than a gun, and cheaper too, and some said, far more satisfying for the user, and far more terrifying for the target. Each member of the Dang family carried several knives.

Theirs was a male dominated clan, unnaturally so, if anyone cared to look at the statistics, and that grew worse still when Yet Kwai’s father punched his wife in a drunken rage. She fell backwards across the kitchen, striking the back of her head on the top of the old cast iron gas stove. The mother was made of stern stuff and put up a tremendous fight. Lasted fourteen hours, lying on her reed bed, groaning terribly, where the young Yet Kwai would bring her drink, and comfort, before the mother finally slipped miserably from this cruel world.

The girl was seven, and by the time she was twelve the father, who never once spoke to her, took to renting her out to various uncles for the weekend. When she was sixteen he finally was rid of her for good when he sold her for $500 in the local tavern to a travelling hoodlum from the coast who made regular buying trips to the interior. The father thought he’d done rather well, it was a decent price for a piece of rubbish, and the girl had finally contributed something of use.

Her new master gave her a good slap to establish his credentials, took her back to Macao, and on to Hong Kong, where her future would lie in the House of Serene Happiness, an upmarket, or so it liked to believe, brothel.

She never quite made it to the trading floor, for in a big government cleanup, or was it a clampdown, the place was raided, and Yet Kwai was spirited away before the Hong Kong Police could take her into custody for questioning. She was promptly sold again, for a $1,000 this time, about the right price for used and battered goods, and a week later she ended up on the vast modern motor vessel, the State of Heavenly Peace, outward bound for Liverpool. She had no idea where she was going, nor did any of the others, and she didn’t really care that much either because one thing was for sure, it couldn’t possibly be any worse a life than the one she had experienced already.

JUN WOO, MEANING TRUTH, was born in the same year as Yet Kwai, in the bustling metropolis that is Hong Kong. She was born into a loving family who owned a beautiful house set high on the hill, a house that had been in the family for almost a hundred years.

Like everyone else, the Woo family were mighty apprehensive when the communist troops arrived on their doorstep in 1997, for the Woos imagined their smart property might be seized, their tailoring business located in one of the busiest commercial districts, be closed down or impounded or nationalised, their capital assets taxed out of existence, and in their most vivid nightmares, these were only the beginning of their woes.

In fact, precisely the opposite happened. Mainland party officials began beating a path to the Woo family store where quality was everything, where the best English woollen cloths, tweeds, and worsteds, would be imported and transformed into amazing clothing that sold all over the world for a hefty price.

The Woo family could complete a perfect handmade suit in forty-eight hours, or in half that time if it were really important, or if it were made worthwhile, or if the buyer was of sufficient status. It would be a rare day indeed when the team were not working on an important order for some party official somewhere or other.

The red and cream Woo tag on a jacket became a highly sought after label, and the Woo family were clever enough to realise the fact, and exploited it for all it was worth. The business prospered like it had never done before, and the cute young Jun Woo wanted for nothing. Her childhood was happy and loving and she could be forgiven for thinking that all kids enjoyed such a joyous upbringing.

She went to good schools, enjoyed lavish holidays in Australia, the United States, and England, still the preferred destination, and when the time came it was made clear to her that she would be granted the privilege of choosing her own husband, as was the way in the West. She was indeed, a lucky kid.

When she was seventeen, everything changed.

She angered her parents beyond belief, and after that their confidence in her drained away.

Two young Chinese women, Yet Kwai, and Jun Woo, neither of whom could barely remember the 20th century, and coming from such differing backgrounds, it was no surprise they had never met.

Thirty-Three

Walter and Karen were sitting in Mrs West’s office, chewing the cud, going over again what they knew, and speculating on what they didn’t.

‘Any joy with the language schools?’ asked Mrs W.

‘We have nearly finished checking them,’ said Karen. ‘Nothing so far.’

‘It was worth a punt. Who thought of that?’

‘It was the monster, ma’am,’ said Karen, smiling, before correcting herself, ‘The Hytec system.’

Walter pursed his lips and looked away and out through the window to the tree-lined river on the far side of the green Roodee.

‘And no one’s reported the dead girl missing?’

Walter grimaced and shook his head.

‘And nothing more on Donald Rushnell?’

‘Not so far, ma’am,’ said Walter. ‘I am beginning to think he has done a bunk to London, or something, looking for excitement.’

‘Could be,’ she said. ‘He wouldn’t be the first. And no connection between the two?’

Walter again shook his head. ‘Doubt it.’

‘What about Jessica Stone?’

‘Not