Got My Eye on You Chapter Eighty Seven


Pocket Full of Rye (Part Seven)


Sherlock walked back to the white board. He used the felt eraser to create space to the left of the nursery rhyme, deleting the annotated elements of the sixpence and the pocketful of rye. "We know what these are now, so it's safe to ignore them."

"Let's start with the first two victims." He wrote up their names. "According to the statements by their crew members, they were both described as 'good Muslims'. That's what the bad translation of the handwritten statements said; the actual words used in Arabic were مسلم ممارس.. That means 'practicing Muslim'. That's important, as we will see. Did you realise that Assadi was killed on a Friday, and so was Tahyadi?"

Her eyebrows went up. "No, I just remember the dates and that it was a weekday."

"To you, maybe. To them, the Sabbath. It is important that seafaring Muslims attend a mosque when they are in port- and Friday prayers are crucial, so they would have made an effort to go. The nearest mosque is across the Thames, in Gravesend- a convenient fifteen minute walk from the ferry. So, let us assume that they made the journey."

He walked to the side wall and a large scale Port map. "The Adobia was berthed here." He pointed to the map. " Rverside Upper. The Glovis Cougar was berthed here, across from New Branch 39. Not exactly convenient for the ferry, if my assumption is right that they can't cross the lock on foot."

She nodded. "yeah, the panamax is closed to any kind of pedestrian traffic."

"So, in both cases, a crew member on shore leave would be forced to walk the long way around to the ferry terminal." He traced with his finger the route. "Given their time constraints- and needing to catch the ferry that left every half hour, they would take the shortest route possible."

She leaned over his shoulder. "So, you're saying they wouldn't have gone by the road, but rather taken short cuts?"

He nodded. "Here." He pointed to a corridor between warehouses, crane systems and the fuel depot. "They'd hug the dockside, and come down this way. It would mean both would pass the three docks- the West, the Central and the East branches."

Oh." It was breathed rather than spoken. "So, you think they saw something on their walk? Something that got them killed?"

"It's a logical assumption. It's also likely that both were killed on the return journey."

"Why? Does it matter?"

"Time of day matters. The person who answered the phone at the Mosque remembered them. They do get crewmen attending; it's just easier for them to remember the two who managed to get killed after attending the mosque. And they did remember them. So, definitely on the way home. At this time of the year, the last service on Fridays is at sunset, and there are social activities that happen afterwards, so the imam said it wasn't likely that they would have left until after eight. It would be pitch dark on the water."

"What did they see?"

"That is the question. To use your analogy, I think they saw the four and twenty blackbirds."

"I didn't mean anything by that; it's just a nonsense part of the rhyme. I planted the feather to make it look like there was something more."

"Unwittingly, you may have actually put your finger on something. Let's look at Assadi's journey. The location of his body in the water is key. He died here." He tapped the water beside the cruise ship terminal on the Central branch. "The tide was coming in at the time of death, and did not turn for an hour, maybe an hour and a half. That's where I walked when I went out just now. The current's slow because you control the water levels by using the locks, closing them at some point in the move to the lowest tide. That means low tide inside the port is much higher than outside in the mainstream. So the tide would have moved him only a small distance toward the main branch before it turned and started to push him back. Even so, the rate of moment back into the dock is slower, because it's a dead end. Odds are, he did not end up very far from where he was killed."

She started to chuckle. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"You have less experience with bodies in water."

"Thank God." Then she looked up at the white board. "What about Tahyadi? His body was found on the southern dock, down by the channel ferries."

He shook his head. "We all agreed that he wasn't killed at the spot he was found. That would be off the direct route to the ferry. It was a body dump. All we can surmise from the data is that it is probably he would have walked the path back from the ferry to the New Branch berth of his ship. That means it is possible that he saw something that led to his death. The spreadsheet shows that there were nine vessels in common. That is, the ships were here on the both days that there was a murder." He was now on his feet again and walking to the board. He uncapped the purple felt tip and began to write.

Emeraude France

MS Gemini

Lady Aileen

Londinium III

Patrol

Ross Revenge

Marco Polo

MS European Seaway

Morning Linda

She shook her head. "We can delete some of those straight away."

"Tell me why."

"Well, the Lady Aileen and the Londinium III are the Port Health Authority launches. They're part of the furniture here, most likely to be in port here or moving up and down the river. They're small and fast- designed to get us to and from the ships moored on the Thames as opposed to in port."

"What do you do inside the port?"

"We have a rigid inflatable. It's not fast, but it doesn't need to be inside the docks."

"Outboard motor?"

"Yep, just a little two stroke."

Sherlock wrote under the list a new names- RIB - then underscored it and the Lady Aileen and the Londinium III in blue.

"And you can delete Patrol, too. That's a pilot ship; usually moving up and down the river berths, but sometimes goes downstream maybe as far as Canvey or upstream to the oil terminal."

He underscored it in blue. "What about the others?"

"Most of these are permanently moored in the port- laid up vessels. The Seaway is a ferry that's been here since 2013. The Emeraude is also a ferry- a high speed cat that's been laid up here since 2007. The Ross Revenge is an old fishing trawler that used to be the Radio Caroline ship- she's been here since 2004. There's a fan club and everything; they've been restoring her and she was in a film last year called Pirate Radio. Then the Gemini- well that again is a cruise ship that's been laid up for a couple of years. Some dispute about ownership." She gave a sad smile. "It's kind of like Tilbury's turned into a naval elephant graveyard. They stick them in here when no one wants them but they're too valuable yet to be scrapped."

"That's interesting, very interesting. Would they be manned?"

She looked askance. "The Ross Revenge is different- that's got people on it all the time; the fan club runs sort of nostalgia theme weekends. The Gemini was last used during the Olympics- a sort of floating hotel for the event security staff. But in the past year, it's been just the two security officers. None of the laid up ships is ever totally empty. The owners put a two or three man team on, so there's someone on shift all the time. The ships are a pretty significant asset, so they keep them locked up tight. Alarms on doors, that sort of thing."

"Would they have power then?"

"Well, the engines aren't running, if that's what you mean. They will be running off batteries. Each berth has an electricity supply. Once on station, they plug in and turn off the engines. It reduces environmental impact, and is cheaper for the owners. they just get light and heat into the spaces used by the security team."

He tapped the pen on the white board. "If we delete your work horses and the laid up vessels, that leaves the Morning Linda and the Marco Polo."

Donna nodded. "The Linda is a laid up vehicle carrier, too. Panamanian registered, but her owners went bust in 2011. She's being held here because there's some law suit or other- creditors fighting over the break up, and the administrators are keeping her here, protected by UK courts. The Marco Polo is a regular cruise ship; she's in and out of Tilbury anywhere between two and five times a month."

"Talk to me about cruise ships. Not just the Marco Polo and not just on these dates."

"Why?"

"Because they are important. Perhaps even more important than the others."

Her eyebrows went up at that. "Most people don't realise that Tilbury is a significant port of departure for the cruise industry. We get the Fred Olsen ships here- that's Braemar and Blackwatch. Plus the Seabourn Legend. And the Silversea luxury ships, too, at different times. The Marco Polo is run by Cruise and Maritime Voyages, takes 800 passengers. She's the most active cruise liner in the port, because she's based here year round. Why do you think they might be important?"

He circled the Morning Linda, the Gemini, and the European Seaway in red. "Which of these is closest to the cruise ship terminal?"

She shrugged. "The Linda is the furthest. The Gemini is closest, but the Seaway is only about another 1,000 meters down the southern dock from her."

"Do you have access to the small RIB?"

"Sure. And I use it regularly to get out to the ships for testing when there's a queue at the cranes or terminals. They just hold station mid-water and I go to them. The RIB is tied up at the east branch. Why?"

"Because you and I are going on a little boat trip."

"At this hour?!"

"Best time of all to be snooping around. The docks are brightly lit, but the water is not. Ship traffic is non-existent. It's low tide and the lock is closed, so nothing is coming in or going out. A small inflatable, with a small motor, will hardly be noticed. But before we do that, I need to check the visual lines of sight. Is there a ship at the cruise terminal tonight?"

"The Braemar. She's between cruises at the moment; a three day lay-over. Still busy, though. the Fred Olsen company rents out the cabins to tourists wanting cheap accommodation near to London. For the cost of half a horrid B&B in town, they get the luxury facilities of the ship. It's a ten minute walk to the train station and a thirty minute trip into Fenchurch Street."

"Good. That will do nicely; she can stand in for all the other cruise liners. Have you got a good pair of binoculars I can borrow?"

He sent her across the road to get her binoculars, the boat keys and her dark wool coat- and to open her computer there and find whatever she could on Sharon Gillespie. "Whatever you've put together on her, and a personnel file would be useful, too. Send it to me by email, and I will meet you at the western branch in just under an hour."

While she was gone, he put all of the spreadsheets into a single workbook, wrote up his notes, his hypothesis and the audit trail. Looking back at the number of cruise ships departing over the past year, he was staggered at the scale of the operation he was just beginning to understand. He bundled them into an annotated zip file and sent it by email to both Lestrade and Donovan. He did the same to the personnel file when it came across by email.

Finally, Sherlock hauled up everything he could find on the MS Gemini. Deck plans, hull design- the works. Because the ship was for sale, the details were readily available. He devoured them at a rate of knots.

An hour and ten minutes later they were standing at the end of Western branch looking across at the cruise terminal on the central dock. Sherlock estimated that it would be the likeliest route of the two dead crewmen on their way to the ferry terminal. He stood under the bright orange lights and was focusing the binoculars on the side of the Braemar.

Donna's curiosity made her fidget. "What are you looking for?"

He focused the binoculars on the side of the ship facing the water. "Looking for service doors on the side away from the dock and close to the waterline."

"WHY?"

He detected a little impatience building up in the ME, and decided to explain a bit more. "Think of this as a working hypothesis. There is one set of goods that is extremely valuable and worth more than anything else that might be smuggled into the warehouses. I am not talking about a bit of dodgy grain, however awful ergotism is."

"Drugs?"

"Valuable, but not the highest value per unit type of contraband."

"What- guns?" She sounded worried.

"No. People."

"People? As in illegal immigrants?"

"Not just your common or garden variety of economic migrant. Not even a sex worker. There is one category of illegal which is extremely profitable to the trafficker."

"You've lost me."

"Domestic servants."

"You're joking."

"Not in the slightest. The trade in illegal female domestic servants is hugely profitable. They are conned into paying their way from countries in northern and eastern Africa, thinking they will be getting respectable jobs when they get here. Instead, they are sold to the highest bidder, and their papers are taken from them, if they had any in the first place. They speak no English. They are told that they will be deported if they leave the house without authorisation. They become prisoners- a 24/7 workforce where no wages need be paid ever- for the rest of their working lives. A one-off payment for decades of work? Cheap at the price. They have no legal rights; they don't exist in the eyes of the law. The man of the house routinely sexually abuses them; the woman of the house works them to death, using threats, beatings and drugs to control them."

"That's slavery."

"Yes. And it happens in Britain. Wealthy foreign families- many from the Middle East- are willing to pay more than fifty thousand pounds for one of these hapless creatures- to look after their children, cook, clean and do all the things that they would otherwise have to pay minimum wages for if the workers were legal in the UK. The husbands pay for it because it is cheaper and safer than using prostitutes. They buy them young and keep them in thrall for years. If they get sick, they get dumped. When they get old, they get kicked out. If they get bored with them, they sell them on. In the eyes of the owners, it is money well spent."

"That's appalling. Is that what the poor Lumad woman was here for? Maybe she got sick because of ergotism, so they killed her and dumped her body?"

"More likely she wouldn't have been for sale. Muslim buyers want Muslim slaves in their houses; protects them from being around something haram or unclean. No, the ergotism suggests she was kept here for longer- two to eight weeks for the symptoms to emerge, remember? If the symptoms became visible here, then it's more likely that she was used to look after the others. Sadly, she's probably the Maid who got her nose pecked off."

"God, that bloody rhyme! Never thought it would apply so well." She looked at the cruise ship. "Why Tilbury- why not Southampton? There are more cruise liners down there than here."

"Tilbury is unique amongst British ports in that you have co-located cruise and cargo berths. Southampton has a separate dock for cruise ships. So does Dover. Tilbury has a regular number of vessels coming in from north and eastern Africa. If each one was to carry stowaways, then it will form a significant pool of talent. Think of Tilbury as a terminal where these refugees are gathered, processed, given false papers and sold. It's also a fact that many of the top priced cabins on cruise liners out of Tilbury are purchase by very wealthy foreign families- they love cruising. And what better place to pick up a useful servant? A family with one servant gets on board at the start, a family with two servants gets off when the boat returns. No one bats an eye, because the fake visas are passed by a bent Borders Agency official. There are more than enough opportunities, given the number of ships that come in here." He handed her the binoculars.

"Take a look at the hatch. You can hardly see it. I think the latest consignment might have come into Tilbury yesterday when the Liberian-registered Rio Tamara docked. Last port of call was Casablanca, where they could pick up some fresh supplies of women. They'll have imprisoned them on the Gemini for a couple of days- until the Braemar sails day after tomorrow. Interestingly, that voyage is to St Petersburg, so there may well be some Russian oligarch customers, too. They will probably move them across tomorrow night, ready to meet their new owners when they come aboard."

She looked horrified. "Can it be that simple?" She looked around the dock as if seeing the place for the first time.

"Simple? Yes. Profitable? Very. If one refugee servant can command a price of £50,000, then it only takes twenty to make a million. Say ten went on each cruise; that's over seven hundred women a year. That's £35 million plus. More profit margin than drugs, less dangerous than guns."

"Oh my god, I never imagined. Is that what you think the two murdered men saw?"

"Four and twenty black birds, baked in a pie. You didn't realise that you were being prophetic. They might even have been wearing black burqas when they were transferred to the cruise ships. That might have caught the crew men's attention, and they were killed for it."