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

the conversation was heading. It was none of his damned business, and Pryce never discussed his company and his business with anyone, not even Kit Napoleon. Pryce had paid his debt and wanted the schmuck out of his office and off the premises as soon as possible. But he managed to control himself and said, ‘It can be labour intensive, yes, but we train them up, pay them well, keep them happy, and make sure we keep hold of them.’

‘Yes, of course you do. Anything to sign?’

Pryce slid a hastily prepared document across the desk. Kit signed with a flourish and said, ‘As ever, nice to do business with you,’ and he stood and headed for the door.’

Pryce sighed and said, ‘Bye,’ and with that Kit was away and sauntering back to the Rolls Royce, £250,000 in cash in his case, quite coincidentally almost the same amount the weak Donald had purportedly stolen, and that was a big debt he was decidedly unhappy about repaying. Still, it might have to be done, and if it put an end to police enquiries, and snooping into his organisation, it would be cheap at half the price. Better still, if he could lure that nosy blonde away from the force, and into his sphere of influence. He chuckled and stored the case in the boot.

Inside Minstrel, Pryce picked up the receipt and took it to the shredder and obliterated it. He had no need for such documents, a tell-tale paper trail within and about his organisation, not a chance. Take no risks, he said to himself again, and he couldn’t wait to be rid of the prick Napoleon either, whatever his name was, for good, and just as soon as the Chinese billionaire came through and completed the purchase of the supermodel, Pryce would pay off the oleaginous piece of grey slime earlier than he expected.

Couldn’t come quickly enough.

IN THE CHESTER HQ, Walter was briefing the team. The lists of local electronics companies were strewn across the desks. Three quarters had been eliminated by the weekend unpaid overtime, but that still left more than enough to go round.

Walter and Karen leant on the desk and stared down and pointed at data, like generals planning a battle, but was it to be a successful assault, or an organised withdrawal through failure?

‘I want Gibbons and Browne to work together on this. You take the first half, Abacus Electric down to say, let’s see, yeah there, Minstrel Electronics. Jan and Jenny, you take Moonstone Circuit Boards down to Zedshed Electric.’

Everyone nodded and grabbed the sheets they had been allocated.

‘You know what to look for. Oriental workforce, almost certainly women, check if they are legal, find out where they are living, size up if they’re happy and content, look out for cuts and bruises and plasters and bandages, and any sign of maltreatment or discontent or obvious grievances. Make friends, gain their confidence, ask questions, interview management, ask to see wage and pay records, and if you come across any companies that are obviously obstructive or uncooperative, make sure that sets off a big red warning light in your fuzzy heads. Keep a lookout too for living and sleeping accommodation. We are not talking here of a happy workforce trotting home at the end of the day. We are talking about human beings being enslaved, forcibly worked round the clock, long hours, ill-treated, poorly paid, if paid at all, expendable, abused, and murdered too, and don’t forget to take pictures of Yet Kwai Dang, she must have been living and working somewhere, and it could be in one of these companies,’ and Walter poked his fat finger hard down on his copy of the lists. ‘In one of these! In our area! In our town! And it’s got to stop! Any comments? Any questions?’

Everyone looked at everyone else, seemed happy enough, knew what needed doing, and Gibbons glanced through the window at the light drizzle, and said, ‘Come on, Heck. Let’s get to it before it lashes down.’

Hector grabbed more flyers and slipped on his raincoat and said, ‘I’m driving,’ and then they were gone with the rest of the team following, a spring in their step, revitalised, and Walter watched them go, and hoped they could maintain that enthusiasm through the day, for he knew the only thing that would do that was results.

Mrs West appeared in the office. She glanced at Walter and exchanged a nod, and said, ‘Ah Karen, have you got a few minutes, I’d like a word.’

She glanced back at Walter, he pulled a face and Karen followed Mrs West into her private office, where the door was firmly shut.

THE LARGER THAN USUAL stack of completed work, ready for shipment out of Minstrel Electronics, gave one additional advantage to Jun Woo and her newfound pals. They could hide behind the pile of boxes, while Jun was helped into the box. When they did that, Shu and Jia would only have to lift and carry the box a short distance.

Jun had taken three paracetamol tabs, though she wasn’t sure they would help. Jia had given her some cheap body oil bought in the shop. Jun had showered, applied the oil, thick all over, in the hope it might make her limbs supple. Anything that helped, no matter how minimally, had to be worth trying.

Jun gazed around the floor. Brinton was not in the assembly plant, neither was Pryce. Monica was off shift, though due on within the hour. Men One and Two were not around either, but it was only a matter of time before they appeared, and began forklifting the completed gear into the dispatch bay.

Jun had drunk very little; she’d been to the lavatory several times for it wouldn’t have done for urine to be seen leaking from a completed pallet.  She glanced around one last time. Nothing new, no alarms, no delay, it was time.

‘Now!’ she said, ‘Pack me!’

Shu produced the cardboard box. Jun stood inside