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

one following, no talking, down and down, six decks down, along a clean corridor, smell of oil, lots of thick coloured pipes, red and orange and blue, running along the ceiling and walls and tucked into the side of the floor, vibrating engines, making ready to put to sea, imagined Jun.

They stopped half way down the corridor and one of the men opened a small windowless room, pushed her inside, and closed and locked the door. She listened at the metal door and heard them hurrying away, she thought she could hear them laughing as they climbed the steps, though she could have been wrong.

There was next to nothing in the room. One bucket, a few blankets on the metal floor, two or three plastic bottles of water, one dismal light on the ceiling protected by thick unbreakable glass, and one scruffy, slight, Chinese girl, standing on the far side of the room.

Jun glanced at the girl.

Trust no one.

She could be a spy. Course she could.

Put there solely to find out everything she could about Jun.

Speak loudly. Shout a lot.

Bully your colleagues!

‘What the fuck are you staring at?’ yelled Jun.

The girl looked away, sat down, and drank some of the water.

‘Don’t drink all the water – some of that’s mine!’ screamed Jun, and she bent down and slapped the top of the kid’s head, and grabbed one of the bottles, and went and sat in the opposite corner and glared across at the kid. She turned away. Jun wondered what she knew, where she’d been, what her story was, and she desperately wanted to ask her so many questions, but not yet. Not until she had seen the lie of the land. The kid lay down and tried to sleep. Jun Woo did too, stayed that way for a couple of hours, until the door opened again, and another frightened beanpole of a girl was thrown into the mix.

THE NEWCOMER WAS A similar kid ’cept she was a bit of a talker. First thing she said was, ‘Hi, I’m Fenfang Dong.’

Easy name to remember, thought Jun.

‘Who are you?’ asked Fenfang, all accompanied with a big smile from a pretty face. It was hard not to respond to her.

The little one in the corner stood up and threw her blanket to the floor and looked at Jun, almost deferentially. Jun stared back impassively and the little one said, ‘Hi, I’m Shu Lang. I’m eighteen, I’m a student nurse, and they both stared at Jun.

‘I’m Lily Sang,’ she said, and the other two shared a look as if to say: She could be hard work. But they all felt more relaxed about things, and shared the water and sat down together and began telling their stories.

Jun was still trying to make up her mind if they were both genuine, or could one be a plant? Fact was, she would never know, not for sure, and there was no point in being obviously difficult, she’d made her point, emphasised where she stood in the pecking order, and neither of these girls were about to challenge that, so she traded information as much as she needed.

All their stories were vaguely the same.

Parents dead, or in prison. Disinterested relatives and boyfriends seeing an opportunity to make a quick buck, and a big buck at that, by selling them into, and there was no other word for it, slavery.

‘Where do you think we are going?’ asked the little one, Shu Lang.

‘Could be anywhere,’ said Lily, ‘Europe, America, Australia, South America, even Russia, Korea, or Japan, could be anywhere.’

‘I don’t want to be a prostitute,’ said Shu.

Fenfang put her arm round her. ‘We won’t let that happen, will we?’ and she glanced at Lily.

‘No,’ she said. ‘That’s not going to happen,’ though all three of them knew deep down that if that was what these ruthless men really wanted, they would be powerless to stop it.

Lily improved the mood. Told them about how her Uncle had lifted her up and dropped her in the harbour, just to give her a bath, and they all laughed long and lustily at that. The sullen Lily was a better girl than they first thought.

Someone came opening the door. The girls instinctively moved to the far wall. The door opened, they half expected another girl to be hurled in, but a man came through the door. White T shirt, blue trousers, triad tattoo on his forearm, new trainers, no watch, no way of telling the time. He was carrying a rectangular metal tray and on the tray were three bowls of lukewarm boiled rice. He slapped the tray on the floor and turned and left without a word. The door was slammed and locked and they heard the man going away.

‘Weirdo!’ shouted Shu.

‘Dinner is served,’ said a giggling Fenfang, and for some reason they all found that incredibly funny and laughed aloud, and then they settled down together in the centre of the floor to share the meagre food, their legs crossed, their mouths full, and the bottled water finished off soon after.

About an hour later the vibration through the ship was noticeably greater. They glanced at one another and felt the unmistakeable feeling of motion.

‘We’re underway,’ said Fenfang.

‘I hope it’s America,’ said Shu, ‘I’ve always wanted to go to America. Hollywood, that’s the place for me.’

Lily felt herself smiling and glanced at the others. They were smiling too, and she said, ‘I think it’s Europe.’

‘Paris!’ said Fenfang. ‘City of love and romance! Let’s go there!’ and they all smiled a moony smile, and thought of lost loved ones and boys they had known when they were younger and living in happier times.

If only they did have the opportunity of going to Paris, thought Lily, wouldn’t that be great, but that wasn’t going to happen, they all knew that, but where were they going? Only time would tell.

IT TAKES THIRTY-FIVE days to shift a huge container ship from Shanghai to Liverpool, give or take, depending on tides,