Mortal Crimes 2

by Various Authors

  Her cheekiness earned her a whack on the backside with a tea towel.

  Chapter Four

  Derek Croft was sitting at his desk pounding a frantic rhythm on his computer keyboard, aware of the deadline creeping up on him. If he didn’t get this story right, he’d have his notice in his hands by the end of the week. He looked up at the clock for the fifth time in as many minutes, then glanced at the silent phone sitting alongside his computer. Ring, damn you, ring! All he needed was a few snippets of information to complete his story, but his contact had let him down—again. Bloody informants were useless nowadays. Unreliable druggies, most of them, who took his money—his money, not the firm’s—and ran to the nearest dealer to buy more drugs. The trouble was that these people knew what happened on the streets. Which was why these morons were vital to him.

  His thoughts focused on the black phone, willing it to ring, but to no avail. After several more minutes of anxious staring that turned into teeth grinding accompanied by a glare, Croft decided that the only way his boss was going to be happy with his latest story was if he fabricated something a little juicy.

  He closed his eyes and an image popped into his mind. He took it as an act of fate and ran with it, bugger the consequences.

  The illfated vessel Spiritus smashed against the rocks off the Kent coastline. So far, the captain and crew, numbers yet to be confirmed, have not been found. Twenty-five dead bodies have already been recovered by the coastguard. Most were found either on the rocks or floating in the bay. All the bodies that have been recovered in the wake of this terrible disaster have been of Asian origin and female. Sources have commented that these poor, unfortunate beings were doomed to a life of slavery and debauchery. Yes, folks, the slave trade is alive and growing on our wonderful shores.

  With drugs being seized at a phenomenal rate by undercover police in the capital, it means that the underworld gangs have been forced to turn to new pastures to sustain their lavish lifestyle. The trending crime appears to be that of human trafficking. Young Asian girls are being shipped, literally by the boatload, into London, where they are either sent to work in brothels or employed by some of Britain’s wealthiest families.

  More on this breaking story as we uncover further evidence.

  Croft hit the save button, attached a copy of the file to an email, and sent it to his boss with thirty seconds to spare on his deadline. He relaxed back in his chair and expelled a heavy breath. I hope I haven’t overstepped the mark with this one. As if on cue, one minute too late, his phone rang. “Croft speaking.” He listened as his informant delivered the goods and smiled when he realised that what he had suspected about the incident had proved to be true. “Good work. You hear anything else, any names or places, ring me straight away, you got that?”

  His informant answered him by hanging up, as he usually did. Seconds later, his boss bellowed out his name. Croft shot out of the chair as if it had just spontaneously combusted and sprinted to his boss’s office.

  He stood in the doorway, trembling from head to foot. “Yes, sir?”

  “What the fuck do you call this, boy?” Trevor Moon waved the sheet of paper in front of him and screwed up his eyes.

  Croft gripped the doorframe with his right hand for support. “I’m not sure what you mean, sir.”

  “Bullshit. That warning I gave you wasn’t strong enough, I take it?” Moon threw the sheet of paper across the room in Croft’s direction.

  Croft hesitated, wondering if he should retrieve it or not. “Was the piece too short?”

  “Too short, too sketchy, and too damn provocative. Based on lies or your imagination, I shouldn’t wonder. What proof do you have?” Moon demanded.

  Croft pulled his shoulders back, assured in his source, despite the information arriving after he’d sent his boss the copy. “Come on, boss. You know how these things go. You print that, and within minutes I bet your phone will be ringing off the hook. Bent coppers, councillors, and the like will all be demanding where you got your information. This story has legs.” Croft cleared his throat, feeling confident that his boss looked more interested in his story now that he had challenged him. “If you don’t want to run the story, I know plenty of papers who’d snap my hand off for a story like that.”

  “Bollocks! Like I said, there’s no substance to the story. If you’ve made this up just to keep your job, you’re a bigger fool than I’ve given you credit for over the last few months.”

  Croft shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”

  “Meaning?” Moon sneered.

  “Let me do some digging. I’m an investigative journalist, after all, so let me investigate the story properly.” Moon looked thoughtful, as if he were contemplating Croft’s idea. Croft pushed his luck a little further. “How long has it been since this paper had a massive story, anyway? This could be the biggie we’ve been waiting for. Let me run with it. Print what I sent you. See it as a teaser to spark the public’s curiosity, if you like.”

  “Last chance saloon for you, Croft. Fuck this up, and you’ll be out of here as quick as that.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his threat.

  Croft let out the breath he’d been holding and nodded. “Yes, boss.”

  “Now get out of here and go find me a story worth publishing.”

  Croft left the office and triumphantly punched the air. He’d just talked himself into at least another month’s salary. Now all he had to do was find Moon his story. He picked up his rucksack, shoved his pen and notebook in it, and left the office with renewed vigour in his step.

  Chapter Five

  The following afternoon, Lorne received the call she had been waiting for. “Hi Katy, what did you find out?”

  “Disappointing results so far. Maybe it’s too soon after the incident for information to start filtering through. Here’s what I do know: the search is still going on for the captain and the other crewmembers. They managed to find some of the hold still intact, and discovered another three bodies inside. Heartbreaking, the coastguard said—the girls were only about sixteen. They were found clinging to each other. I’m stating the obvious here, but they must have been scared shitless.”

  Lorne shook her head and sighed. “What a dreadful way to die. Crap, I really want to get the bastards who put these girls through this shit. Where do we start, though?”

  “That’s what I was wondering. The case won’t really get underway until the rescuers have located all the bodies.”

  “I know. But Katy, how will we know how many people were stowed away? There’s hardly going to be any records of the voyage, with cargo manifests, etc., is there?”

  “These things have a habit of coming to light eventually. Let me do some more digging, and I’ll get back to you if anything turns up.”

  Lorne ended the call, but before she could replace the portable phone in the docking station, it rang again. She recognised the number on the display and smiled as she answered it. “Hey, Sis, how’s it going?”

  “Give me strength. Hold on a sec, Lorne.”

  She could hear the beat of a child’s drum set in the background, and then a child’s scream when the noise ceased. “Why the hell did we buy him that?”

  Laughing, Lorne replied, “I’m so glad you and Luigi bought the kids that drum set and not us. I would have hated getting the blame for them deafening you. Sounds like you have the next Phil Collins on your hands there.”

  “You think? Maybe we should nurture such raw talent, eh?”

  Lorne chuckled at her sister’s strained wit. “What can I do for you, Jade?”

  Jade hesitated for a brief moment before she answered, “I’m not sure, really. It’s probably nothing, but I thought I’d run it by you, just the same.”

  “You’ve piqued my interest now.”

  “You remember Angela North, don’t you?”

  After a brief pause, Lorne replied, “Umm…the girl you went to school with, you mean? Vaguely, why?”

  “That’s the one. Well, last year she g
ot married out in the Maldives to a very wealthy guy.”

  Lorne whistled. “Nice to hear at least some people manage to land on their feet.”

  “Idiot. You’d be lost without Tony, and since when has money ever mattered to you?”

  “Yeah, you have a point. So what’s the problem—with Angela, I mean?”

  “Well, she rang me in tears yesterday. Roger, her husband, employed an au pair to take care of Angela’s stepson. This is Roger’s second marriage; his first wife died about two years ago. He wouldn’t tell her how his wife, Celia, died.”

  “I see, and…?”

  “At first she found it hard to accept the au pair—jealousy, I’m guessing. But over the past few months, she’s grown to really like and appreciate Jai San.”

  Lorne started making a wind up motion with her free hand. This was typical of Jade. She loved to gossip and stretch a story to its maximum, something that annoyed Lorne more often than not. “I hate to hurry you up, hon, but I have a few chores still left over from this morning that I have to complete before sunset.”

  “You cheeky cow! I’m getting there as fast as I can. Anyway, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, the girl collapsed last night, for no reason. When she woke up it took Angela over three hours to worm the problem out of her. And Lorne, it’s horrendous. I’m shaking just thinking about what that girl must be going through.”

  “Jade! Please get to the point.”

  “You always were the most impatient person I’ve ever had the privilege of knowing,” Jade said, her frustration evident.

  “Yeah, and you’ve always been the most melodramatic person I know, but that doesn’t mean I love you any less. Tell me, for goodness sake!”

  “I’m not sure if you saw what happened in the storm?”

  “Yeah, it was all over the news. I know the roads were terrible to get by. Was the house hit by a tree or something? Was someone badly injured?”

  “Listen, will you?” Jade snapped back in annoyance. “It’s been in the news, every hour on the hour—you must have seen it. That ship, boat, whatever you call it, that was ripped apart in the storm.”

  Lorne gasped. She had an inkling she knew what was coming next. She’d momentarily drifted off, and the sound of her sister’s voice shouting through the phone brought her out of her reverie.

  “Lorne? Are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry, Jade. What about the ship?”

  “I just bloody told you. Jai San’s sister was aboard. She’s dead. She was sixteen, for Christ’s sake. Sixteen!” said Jade, overreacting as she always did when she knew someone involved in something traumatic.

  “Damn,” Lorne muttered under her breath.

  “Damn! Damn, is that all you can say? I expected more from you. I thought you’d be interested after what they’re saying about this boat.”

  “Sorry, Jade, my mind is elsewhere. Obviously it’s a sickening situation, truly awful. Can you make arrangements for me to visit your friend perhaps?”

  “Of course, I’ll give Angela a call,” Jade said, her tone softening a little, “and get back to you later.”

  Lorne spent the rest of the afternoon distracted and deep in thought. What were the odds of two of the victims having family employed by people she knew? How rife had human trafficking become? After the case with the Unicorn, Lorne had hoped that certain restrictions had been put in place to help combat the heinous crime, but obviously it wasn’t enough. She felt sickened that people were still being abused in this manner. If only she had a government contact who could give her an inside take on what they were doing to combat this abhorrent crime in this so called civilised part of the world.

  “What’s wrong, love?” Tony came up behind her chair and massaged her shoulders.

  Of course, Tony. She tilted her head to the side and rested her cheek on the back of one of his hands. “The usual—busy thinking.”

  He squeezed her shoulder and then sat in the chair next to her. “About the shipwreck?”

  She nodded, and thought for a second or two before she spoke again, “How friendly are you with MI6/5 at the moment?”

  Tony’s eyes rose to the ceiling and he inhaled deeply. “I know where you’re going with this, and I’m not sure I want to go down that road, hon.”

  “Not even when innocent people are being brutalised and victimised in this way? You’d be happy to sit back and watch that happen, would you? Don’t forget what happened to you in Afghanistan!” She paused. “Sorry, hon, that was a bit harsh.”

  Tony fell back in his chair. “That’s not fair and you know it. The authorities have this case in hand. Let’s see what happens in the next day or two, huh?”

  “They could take weeks to sift through the wreckage. The victims’ families need some form of justice now.”

  “Lorne, you know how these things work—”

  She cut him off with a raised hand and an angry look. “Please don’t give me that tired old cliché about Rome not being built in a day.”

  “Okay, I won’t. But you know it’s true.”

  “Yeah, I know you’re right. That doesn’t mean to say that it’s any less frustrating. I want to get on and try to do something to help these poor people get out of the situation they’re in. It’s too late for some of them, but there are probably thousands more out there caught up in similar positions. I can’t help thinking that the ones killed in that horrific storm are better off dead, compared to the sickening alternative. It’s the thousands of people out there being shunted around from country to country to the highest bidder who I want—need—to help. I know what my daughter went through. That poor girl—Sasha—who tried to help Charlie was forced to endure the dreadful sight of her own family being burned at the stake, and her captors did it just to keep her in line. These innocent people are treated worse than animals by scum wanting to line their pockets.”

  All the way through her ranting speech, Tony’s eyes remained fixed firmly on hers. She knew he felt the same way as she did, and she admired the way he could keep a lid on his anger—something she lacked.

  “The slave trade has been with us since the year dot, Lorne. I doubt that will ever change. You may be Wonder Woman in most regards, but I don’t think even you’ll be able to do much to alter things in that respect.”

  “You’re probably right, as usual, but I’m not prepared to give up now, Tony.”

  “I never doubted that for a second.”

  Chapter Six

  Derek Croft left his office faster than a Formula One racecar once the call came in. He had a fire in his belly that was causing havoc with his newly diagnosed ulcer. He’d spent most of the day on the phone to several of his informants, mostly with negative results, until half an hour ago, when Sammy had called him. The twenty-year-old druggie had never let him down in the past, so Croft knew it was imperative to get over to the site ASAP. Or as fast as his battered old VW Golf would carry him.

  With night already setting in, he screeched to a halt and parked several roads from the location he’d been given. The area was a built-up industrial zone, quiet after a busy day’s trading. An icy chill flowed through his veins that had nothing to do with the air temperature when he got out of the car. Armed with his camera, he ran down one narrow road and then the next, until he found the address Sammy had suggested where he would find what he was after. Several stray dogs roamed the vicinity looking for scraps, but they scattered in different directions when he dashed past them.

  Croft scanned the area for a possible hideaway observation point. He was in the process of settling himself behind a massive industrial metal dumpster when he heard a distant vehicle approaching. He threw himself behind his chosen cover and peeked out to watch a large ten-tonne truck pull to a halt in front of the gates, obscuring his view. He mentally kicked himself for not being able to take any pictures; if he used his camera in the fading light, the flash would kick in, automatically giving away his whereabouts.

  Once the metal railing g
ates had been opened, the truck drove through the opening and stopped on the other side. A large bruiser of a guy jumped down from the cab. After high-fiving the two men already waiting in the yard, the driver stretched out the muscles in his back before the three of them shared a joke and moved to the rear of the truck.

  Croft inched forward and craned his neck, but his view was limited. Now he had a dilemma: did he move position and risk getting caught, or did he sit tight in the hope that he’d hear and eventually see something useful? Once the men had moved to the back of the truck, his limited view became even more restricted. He couldn’t decipher the murmuring voices. His frustration mounted and grew tenfold within seconds, forcing him to rethink his strategy.

  Taking advantage of the noise the men were making as they unlatched the doors to the truck, Croft snuck out from behind the dumpster and crept several feet closer, but he couldn’t find anything else suitable to hide behind. Defeated, and conscious that he might blow his cover, Croft returned to his original position.

  He heard the men shouting orders, then numerous slaps, followed by screams and men’s laughter. Shit! Sammy was spot on. There are girls on that truck. Panicked by the knowledge, Croft’s heart pounded harder against his ribcage. What the fuck have I stumbled across here? Are the girls kept here? Moved elsewhere? What a story! However, without photographic evidence, he knew he’d have a hard time selling it to his boss.” I should call the authorities. Fuck that! I need this job. I need this story!

  It was another twenty minutes before the yard fell quiet. He didn’t have a clue how many people had been transferred inside the building. He settled back on his haunches, pulled his jacket up around his neck to ward off the draft, and prepared to wait it out for the next few hours. I bet the bastards are in there groping the girls.

  Several hours later, Croft was startled awake by activity as the truck started up and the gates were flung open. He held his breath as the truck stopped outside the gates and two men jumped into the cab. With the driver already behind the wheel, he assumed that the three men he’d seen inside the yard had all just vacated the area in the truck. He decided to give it another five minutes before he made his move.