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

box on the pallet. Shu, and one other. They needed to find a friend.

That night Jun Woo explained her plan to Shu.

‘It’ll be very dangerous,’ whispered Shu.

‘Being here is very dangerous, for all of us.’

‘You’ll never fit inside such a small box.’

‘I will! There was a guy I knew in Hong Kong,’ but she had to be careful what she said, for she didn’t want to reveal what she knew, and who she was, for the guy she knew, the expert in getting into tiny spaces was her “Uncle”. He was into yoga in a big way, and through his constant exercises his wiry body could be folded down into an amazingly small space. He had bewildered his superiors by demonstrating that he could prize himself into an astonishingly small shopping bag. He could even close the zip from the inside, and they weren’t slow in realizing the potential in such a skill. Jun edited the story accordingly.

‘This guy I knew,’ she explained to Shu. ‘He was a circus guy with a supple body, and he could be folded down into a box. I could do that too.’

‘But I am much smaller than you,’ Shu protested. ‘It would be far better for me to go.’

There might have been some sense in that too, but in the end it didn’t stack up. Jun Woo had the credit card, Jun Woo had the emergency telephone number, Jun Woo had the rank and credibility, and it was Jun Woo who could fetch help. It would have to be her. If Shu went, she might even be caught and deported without her story being heard.

‘I’ve been doing yoga too,’ Jun explained, and she had too, so impressed was she by Uncle’s activities, she determined to follow the same path, and it was true about the yoga, as she had eventually persuaded Shu and Fenfang to partake in yoga classes in that tin tomb on the long and boring crossing from China.

‘We need to find someone else to help lift the box.’

Shu thought a minute and said, ‘I may have someone.’

‘Who?’

‘The girl next to me on the workbench, she comes from the next district to me. She seems friendly enough. Oh, I don’t know her family or anything like that, that would be a billion to one chance, literally, but I do know some of the places she knows, I know some of the shops she goes.’

‘What’s her name?’

‘I don’t know that yet.’

‘Find out.’

Shu nodded and said, ‘She started talking to me because she recognised my accent, she speaks the same way.’

‘Can we trust her?’ asked Jun Woo.

‘I don’t know. But we will have to trust someone. Maybe we should leave it a while, a week or two. Build up trust, build up confidence.’

That seemed to make some sense to Jun, and she was impressed with Shu’s logical thinking, it seemed beyond her years. But if they wanted to rescue Fenfang speed was of the essence. Jun Woo knew where Fenfang had gone, but how long would she be there? She could be moved on again, and the trail would grow cold. No, they had to make a move if they wanted to save Fenfang, and they had to do it soon.

‘Make friends with her. We need to move fast. We are going to get out of here, Shu, and so is everyone else, and we are going to save Fenfang as well.’

Shu nodded and looked hopeful.

Monica came hustling by.

‘What are you two gossiping about? There’s no talking! I told you that before. If I catch you again, your wages will be stopped.’

Wages, thought Jun Woo, what a laugh. Ten pounds a month and in funny money too, it wasn’t wages, it was slavery, and nothing less, and Jun Woo would willingly risk her life to bring the whole house crashing down.

Sixty-Two

Walter glanced up from his info sheets and floated an idea across the office: ‘What are you doing tomorrow, Heck?’

An expectant look flooded over Hector’s face.

‘Tomorrow, Guv, I am going to give sweet Georgia Browne twenty-four hours CPA.’

‘CPA?’

‘Concentrated Personal Attention – can’t beat it.’

‘Didn’t know you were married.’

‘I’m not, but if Georgie plays her cards right she might yet scoop the lottery ticket.’

There was a short silence and then Walter mumbled, ‘Pity.’

Just the single word, floating across the office, in Walter’s low and fruity style, Pity, and yet no one could ignore the underlying inferences. Hector pondered the word a few moments, realising that it could mean trouble, and though he knew he might regret asking, he did anyway.

‘Why’s that, Guv?’

Walter sat back in his chair. Clasped his hands behind his head.

‘I really think we are on to something here.’

‘In what way?’

‘Not sure I can answer that, just the more I look at it, the more convinced I am we are on the right road. But the thing is, the thing that really haunts me, is that this could be time critical.’

‘Time critical?’

‘Yeah. Time is running out.’

‘For whom?’

‘Not sure. Everyone, maybe.’

‘You want me to work Sunday, right?’

‘The more hands and minds, the merrier.’

A few seconds of silence followed and then Hector said, ‘I suppose I could delay the onset of CPA for twelve hours.’

‘That’s all I need.’

‘Yeah?’

‘Good man.’

‘Okay, Guv. You got it.’

Walter grinned and returned to his sheets.

Then he said, ‘Don’t suppose we could rope in any of the others?’

Hector laughed aloud. Thought, if he was giving up his very special Sunday, the least the others could do was join the party.

‘Leave it with me, Guv,’ and Hector jumped on the phone.

Rang Jenny. She was on the Manchester train with two of her closest friends. It was her monthly Manchester shopping trip, the outings they referred to as their champagne socialising days. Went like this: Don the best new frock, preferably the one with the slightly shorter hem, take the train to the bright lights of Manchester where the programme went: shopping-drinky-shopping-drinky-shopping-drinky, food-food-food, and repeat, and if during the course of that decadence, two or three handsome young men stumbled along and