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

‘An illegal immigrant?’ said Hector.

‘It’s the obvious explanation,’ said Walter. ‘No one has reported her missing because there was no one to report her missing.’

‘That’s so sad,’ said Jenny.

‘It is.’

‘Or,’ chipped in Karen, ‘it’s because those who would like to report her missing are in some way being restrained from doing so.’

‘Quite possibly,’ said Walter.

‘Either by threats to the person, or by being physically restrained from doing so,’ said Karen.

‘How do you mean, sarge?’ asked Gibbons.

‘By being denied the means to communicate.’

‘Not sure I follow.’

‘Oh, wake up Gibbons,’ said Walter, ‘Karen means that Sadie could not speak to us before she was killed because she was in some form of captivity, and Sadie’s colleagues cannot report her disappearance for the very same reason.’

‘That’s right, Guv,’ said Karen, looking at Gibbons as if he had a screw loose.

‘Shouldn’t we be looking at industries that traditionally target illegal immigrants, offering cheap labour, that kind of thing?’ suggested Hector.

‘Good starting place,’ agreed Walter.

‘So what are they?’ asked Gibbons.

‘Agricultural, working in the fields from dawn to dusk for half the minimum wage, backbreaking work that the locals wouldn’t touch with a bargepole,’ said Karen.

‘Correct. And it’s still harvest time,’ said Walter, ‘so that makes a lot of sense.’

‘And there’s plenty of agriculture in Cheshire, Shropshire and North Wales, always looking for cheap labour,’ said Hector.

‘Okay,’ said Walter, ‘Gibbons and Hector, you get on to that, get a list of all the gangmasters in the area, go and see them, take Sadie’s picture, put some pressure on these people, a lot of them are dodgy, we know that, check all their records, make them sweat, see if you get any reaction, and pay particular attention to any of those organisations that employ Oriental labour.’

‘What other industries?’ asked Jan.

‘There’s the cockling thing,’ suggested Jenny.

‘There is,’ said Walter, interested in the idea. ‘And it’s local too.’

‘What’s that?’ asked Gibbons.

‘Cockling on the River Dee,’ said Karen.

‘Wasn’t there an incident up in Morecambe Bay a few years ago?’ said Hector.

‘There was, Hector, you’re right, back in 2004, if memory serves,’ said Walter. ‘Twenty-three Chinese workers were drowned by the incoming tide. I think the gangmaster was local too, from Liverpool, I believe.’

‘And were they illegal immigrants?’ asked Hector.

‘Not sure, maybe. Jenny, can you check that out?’

‘Sure, Guv.’

‘Trust you to get the cock job,’ said Gibbons, winking at Jenny.

‘Oh, shut up, Gibbons,’ said Karen.

‘And it’s not Cock, it’s Cockle,’ said Walter. ‘The extra L and E are quite important, makes a big difference, and there’s a great deal of it five miles up the road on the Dee estuary.’

‘We could be on to something here, Guv,’ said Karen.

‘Does anyone know when the cockle picking season starts and finishes?’ asked Walter.

More puzzled looks and blank faces.

Gibbons shrugged his shoulders.

‘Jan, you work with Jenny on that, find out when the cockles are picked, and if they are in business now, go and see the pickers.’

Jan nodded, said, ‘Sure, Guv.’

The phone in front of Karen rang. She snatched it up. They all heard her say, ‘When was this?’ And then, ‘Okay, thanks very much.’

‘What?’ said Walter.

‘Greenline Couriers delivered a package to Remembrance yesterday, late lunchtime.’

‘Did they now?’ said Walter. ‘I wonder what could have been in that. Sounds like it was just before we arrived, no wonder they were so jumpy.’

‘Shall I get a car, Guv?’

‘Yes. Get on with it, team, you all know what you have to do, meet back here for an update at 6pm, and I want to see some results.’

THIRTY MINUTES LATER: another lunchtime in Remembrance, another ploughman’s, another ring on the bell.

‘Who the heck’s that?’ said an annoyed Chrissie.

‘Another courier delivery with any luck,’ said Colin. ‘Just so long as it ain’t that black fella. He’s beginning to annoy me.’

Chrissie went to the door.

Colin heard her say over-loudly, ‘Hello Inspector, back so soon?’ and then he appeared in the kitchen, looking down on Colin as if he were a naughty pupil.

Colin crunched a pickled onion, gave himself a little extra thinking time. ‘What can we do for you? Good news is it?’

‘Maybe, maybe not. Yesterday you said, or to be accurate, Chrissie said: We are in demand today, and she said that because Greenline Couriers had delivered a packet not long before we showed up. What was in the packet?’ Walter glanced from husband to wife. He looked shifty, she looked sheepish.

‘Nothing special,’ he said.

‘That won’t do, Colin.’

‘Some medication for the pigs.’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Karen.

‘Tell him, Colin!’ said Chrissie.

‘It was a new supply of seeds for the spring.’

‘Nope, not that,’ said Karen.

‘Tell him Colin, or I will.’

Colin grunted and sat back in his chair.

‘Some money came.’

‘How much?’

‘10K.’

‘And where is it now?’ asked Karen.

‘Safe, where no one can touch it.’

‘That won’t do, Colin,’ Walter repeated.

‘Buried in the pigpen,’ said Chrissie, unable to look at her downcast husband.

‘And it came from Donald?’

‘No idea! There was no letter inside, that’s why we didn’t mention it, we wanted to get to the bottom of it first.’

‘Do you often receive wads of money in cash in the mail?’ asked Karen.

‘Do you think we’d be in this mess if we did?’

‘Have you spent any of it?’

‘Course not! We are honest people.’

Walter went to the back door and opened up.

‘Whatcha doing?’ asked Colin.

‘Come along, my friend, away to the pigpen.’

Colin sighed and gave his wife daggers, and dragged on his boots and joined Walter outside. It took quite a long time to dig it up, Colin had done a great job in burying it, but there it was in the red rusty tin. Back in the kitchen, Chrissie cleaned it as best she could with paper towels.

‘S’pose we’ll be in trouble now, will we?’ asked the downcast Colin.

‘That’s not up to us, but you did mislead us, you did waste police time, and you did handle stolen goods, i.e. the cash, so you couldn’t be surprised if the matter is taken further. Of course, if you could lead us to your son, and help us recover more of the