Sisters in Slavery Read online

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Sisters In Slavery

  by Charles Graham

  ISBN 13: 978-1-935897-38-5

  A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

  Copyright © 2011, All rights reserved

  Chapter One

  “You’re quite sure about this, Miss Osborne? There is no chance that it could be just a simple computer error?”

  “Absolutely none, sir. I’ve checked and re-checked the figures. It has to be a deliberate fraud and the amounts involved are huge.”

  “Yes, I see. I can hardly believe it. And from what you have told me, some of my senior executives must be in on it.”

  “I’m very much afraid that at least some of them must be, sir. The scale and complexity of an operation of this size couldn’t be hidden unless there was collusion at a very senior level.”

  “No, I imagine not. This has come as a great shock to me, you know. A great shock. To think that some of my colleagues have abused their positions to do such a thing...Are you absolutely certain of your findings? Certain enough to go to the authorities?”

  “The evidence is incontrovertible, sir. I have dates and figures which prove it beyond any shadow of doubt.”

  “I see. Well then, I have no choice. Does anyone else know what you’ve found?”

  “No, sir, not another soul. I’ve kept it strictly private, under lock and key.”

  “Good. It’s too late to do anything this afternoon, but I will arrange a full meeting for 8:30 tomorrow evening. We’ll keep it quiet for the moment. Can you be ready by then?”

  “Yes, of course, sir.”

  “Very well, then. Bring everything you have to the main Boardroom tomorrow and when you have presented your results, I shall take the necessary action.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be there. Uh… just one thing, sir. It might be quite...uh...unpleasant...”

  “I’m sure it will, Miss Osborne. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure that Security is present to deal with anyone causing trouble.”

  “Thank you, sir. I’m sure that’s a wise move. Good afternoon, sir.”

  “Good afternoon, Miss Osborne. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  As he lowered the phone back into its cradle, Andrew Morrison, European Chief Executive of Shimatsu Electronics, frowned angrily. Damn the woman, he thought to himself, why couldn’t she have kept her interfering nose out of things that didn’t concern her. How the hell had she managed to stumble across the “black” file? It was supposed to be top secret, secure against any normal investigation.

  Mr. Shimatsu would be furious, he thought grimly and his neck would be on the chopping block, unless he could find a way to suppress the evidence that would blow the Company apart.

  Not only his neck, either. The blasted woman had been right, the operation did require collusion at the highest level and he, Crespi and O’Keefe, two of the other Executive Directors, were all in it together with Shimatsu himself. If the story got out, they were all finished and Morrison knew it.

  He forced himself to control his anger and concentrate. The evidence had to be suppressed, to disappear, until every trace of the massive fraud could be buried so deeply that no one would ever be able to find it again. That wouldn’t be easy, but it could be done eventually.

  Which left the problem of Miss Osborne...?

  He lifted the phone to his secretary, “Beth, get me Miss Osborne’s personal file, please and tell Mr. Crespi and Ms O’Keefe to come in to see me in an hour.”

  Five minutes later, he was on his direct line to Ozeki Shimatsu and the millionaire owner of the Company was furiously demanding to know how the disaster could have occurred.

  “Dawnelle O’Keefe is responsible for security, isn’t she?” the Japanese hissed venomously. “This is all her fault and I do not tolerate failure or stupidity in my employees.”

  Morrison knew better than to argue with his boss, but tried to soothe the angry Oriental. “I know, sir,” he began, “but I’m having a meeting with Carlo and Dawnelle as soon as I come off the phone and I’m sure we can work something out.”

  “You’d better!” Shimatsu snapped, “If the truth comes out, my loss of face would be unacceptable. Who is this Osborne woman? What can you tell me about her? Is there any lever we can use against her to ensure she keeps quiet?”

  Morrison consulted the personnel file. “She is twenty three and single, sir,” he reported, “next of kin is a sister who shares her home: no other relatives, Honours Degree in Business, specialising in Accounts and Auditing, five foot five inches tall, one hundred and fifteen pounds, blonde hair and blue eyes. This is her first job and she’s been with us just under three months.”

  “So,” Shimatsu replied thoughtfully, “she is new to the Company. That is good. It is unlikely she would have any close friends or colleagues who would miss her if she were to suddenly disappear. On assignment to the Head Office, perhaps?”

  “Sir?” Morrison frowned, wondering what was in his boss’s mind.

  “Yes. That would resolve the situation very satisfactorily. You will arrange for the record to show that she has been transferred here and I will do the rest. Set it up at once.”

  “But sir,” Morrison protested, “she may not want to transfer to the other side of the world. What if she refuses?”

  A low, cruel chuckle came down the phone line, “I suggest you don’t give her that option.”

  Morrison took a deep breath, “You mean...kidnap her?”

  “I prefer to call it an enforced transfer,” Shimatsu replied coldly, “one that will save your neck, Andrew.”

  “What will you do with her when she gets there?” Morrison asked nervously. “You won’t...won’t...?”

  “Dispose of her?” Shimatsu finished the thought for him. “No, Andrew. That would be both dangerous and a waste. She will be kept quite safe, but in no position to harm our financial arrangements. As far as you and the world are concerned, Miss Osborne will simply vanish without trace. These things happen, particularly out here and I can assure you that any investigations that may follow her disappearance will discover nothing. Just another example of a foreigner succumbing to the allure of the...ha...mystic East, as you Europeans call it.”

  Morrison bit his lip, “Are you quite sure there’ll be no comeback?”

  “Quite sure. We will all be safe to carry on making ourselves very, very rich.”

  “Well...OK then,” Morrison agreed reluctantly, “but how do you suggest we get her to you? And what about her sister? She’s bound to ask questions and stir things up?”

  Shimatsu laughed evilly, “Think, Andrew. Use your brain. We air freight components to you and you send the containers back with export goods, don’t you? I’m sure you could find room for a passenger inside one of them.”

  “That’s right,” Morrison agreed, “we do it every day. It’s routine. No one takes any notice. Not even Customs.”

  “Correct. As you say, it’s routine. And, of course, if one can travel that way, why not two?”

  “The sister, you mean?”

  “Why not? Then there would be no one to ask awkward questions.”

  “It would work.”

  “Yes, it will. Problem solved.”

  “I’ll do it,” Morrison said firmly, “The damn girl shouldn’t have stuck her nose in. It’s her own stupid fault a
nyway. I’ll fix it with Carlo and Dawnelle and we’ll do it at the meeting tomorrow.”

  “Good. The quicker, the better. I’m relying on you, Andrew. Don’t let me down.”

  Morrison knew he was being warned and hurried to reassure his boss, “Don’t worry, sir. I’m not going to let one woman stand between us and all that money.”

  “You had better not! Now, let’s get down to details......”

  For half an hour, the two men immersed themselves in times and dates and flight plans, covering every contingency until the plan was perfect.

  “Very good, Andrew,” Shimatsu said finally, “I knew I could rely on you. Just one more thing, I want Dawnelle O’Keefe to travel with our two...ah...guests in the container.”

  “Dawnelle? What for?”

  “For two reasons. One, to make quite sure that nothing goes wrong and two, I want to review our computer security with her. This breach of the “Black” file shows that access control is not as strong as it should be and I want to be absolutely certain that the error is put right.”

  “All right, I’ll tell her.”

  “Good. It’s quite some time since I had the pleasure of Dawnelle’s company. I look forward to renewing our acquaintance. Goodnight, Andrew.”

  Andrew’s two partners listened in consternation as he relayed the bad news to them, “So that’s the situation,” he said, “and this is how we’re going to deal with it.”

  As he told them of the plan he had thrashed out with Ozeki Shimatsu, the wiry, dark haired Carlo Crespi frowned, “It’s risky, but better than bribery. That would leave us open to blackmail for the rest of our lives.”

  “I agree,” Dawnelle O’Keefe paced up and down the office, her long red hair shining, “but what I can’t understand is how she got into the file in the first place.”

  “Because you screwed up,” Carlo snapped, “it was your job to make sure the file was secure and you blew it.”

  Dawnelle turned on him furiously, “Shut up!” she yelled. “You don’t know anything about it, you little jerk. I designed the security system and I know it was unbreakable!”

  Carlo shot to his feet, his face white with anger, “Unbreakable, you silly bitch? Then why are we in this mess? This is all your fault, you stupid cow!”

  At nearly six feet tall in her high heels, Dawnelle towered five inches over the dark Italian and her face twisted in fury as her right palm described a swift arc to crack against Carlo’s swarthy cheek.

  The powerful slap sent the smaller man reeling and Andrew leapt to his feet, coming between his two feuding partners, “Enough!” he shouted. “Sit down, both of you! Sit down! Fighting between ourselves isn’t going to solve anything.”

  For a moment, the two glowered at each other, but then each regained control of their anger and took a seat.

  “That’s better,” Andrew said, “now, let’s forget about whose fault this is and concentrate on how we’re going to sort it out.”

  Slowly, tempers cooled, but it was still a very tense atmosphere as a plan was made to kidnap and freight the two Osborne sisters. Carlo, it was agreed, would arrange transport by container, Dawnelle was to bring two Security staff ones who could be trusted to keep their mouths shut...to the meeting, while Andrew undertook to falsify the paperwork to cover up the girls’ disappearance.

  As Dawnelle strode stiffly from the room, refusing to even look at Carlo, the Italian’s eyes glittered with anger.

  “She is a bitch, that one,” he muttered under his breath, “but one day, I, Carlo Crespi, will teach her not to slap me!” and his lips twisted in a thin smile as he plotted revenge.

  Maxine Osborne stared at her reflection in the long mirror, checking her appearance for about the twentieth time as she prepared for her crucial meeting.

  “What do you think, Melissa?” she asked for the third time, “You don’t think this red scarf is too much, do you?”

  “You look great. Stop worrying.”

  Maxine looked across at her sister and saw a virtual duplicate of herself. They were twins, Maxine the older by four minutes, the two inseparable from birth and their bond strengthened by the death of their parents in a car crash when they were eighteen.

  Nearly identical in looks, their characters were distinctly different. Where Maxine was reserved, hard-working and serious, Melissa was high-spirited and outgoing, a lover of partying and dances, acquiring and then dropping boyfriends without a care while her sister was more discerning.

  Both had had lovers, Maxine rather fewer, but had always managed to avoid entanglements with their sibling’s partners and the inevitable difficulties that would have caused and were completely at ease with each other.

  Maxine looked at her reflection again, examining the tailored navy blue suit which adorned her well proportioned figure, the gleaming white blouse hugging her firm breasts, the ruffled scarlet scarf at her throat and the black stockings and mid-heeled shoes beneath the skirt which ended a demure two inches above her knees.

  “Yes, you’re right,” she agreed finally, “it’s fine.”

  “Told you,” Melissa said casually, “you’ll knock them dead. What about me, then? Will they like this down at the Club, do you think?”

  Melissa looked at the tight white sweater emphasising the thrusting globes of her sister’s bra-less breasts, then lowered her gaze to the skin tight black leather micro-skirt and high heeled thigh boots she wore.

  “I should imagine it’ll be a riot,” she smiled ruefully, “how do you get away with it, Melissa? I wouldn’t dare go out in public dressed like that.”

  “It turns the guys on,” Melissa chuckled, “I haven’t had to buy myself a drink for months.”

  “I bet you haven’t. But what do you do if they get, you know, pushy?”

  “I can look after myself,” Melissa replied confidently. “A guy only gets what I want to give him. I’m the one in charge, not them and that’s the way I keep it.”

  Maxine shook her head, smiling, “Oh well, fair enough, as long as it stays that way.”

  “It will. I know what I’m doing. Come on, sis, time we were going.”

  As she drove towards Shimatsu Electronics, Maxine said, “Shall I drop you off at the Club, Melissa?”

  But her sister shook her head, “No. It’s too early, yet. I’ll wait in the car until you’re finished and you can drop me off then.”

  “Are you sure? I might be a long time, you know.”

  “That’s all right. If I get bored, I’ll find a taxi.

  “OK. No problem.”

  The huge building was in darkness apart from the top floor and as Maxine entered her access code on the panel set into the armrest of her car’s door and the high double gates swung open, she pointed upwards, “That’s where my meeting is. If it goes well, it could change my whole life. I could really go places.”

  Maxine was quite right but not in the way she fondly imagined!

  She drove around to the back of the building and parked, then got out and straightened her skirt, “Wish me luck,” she said.

  Melissa smiled, “Good luck,” then settled back in her seat and turned the radio on as her sister walked away.

  Riding up in the lift, Maxine took a deep breath, “This is it,” she murmured, “I’m on my way.” As she stepped out and walked to the polished doors, she gripped her notes and evidence firmly in her right hand.

  The doors swung open to her knock and she walked in.

  The Boardroom was vast, a fifty-seat conference table stretching before her and at the far end; three people sat waiting as two burly, uniformed Security Guards escorted her towards them.

  “Good evening, Miss Osborne.”

  “Good evening, sir,” she replied to Andrew Morrison, the only one she recognised.

  “Sit down, please. This is Ms. O’Keefe and Mr. Crespi, two of my senior Directors.” The two Directors didn’t smile and Maxine grew a little nervous as she took her seat.

  “May we see your evidence, please?” Morr
ison asked and Maxine handed it over.

  As the papers were passed around, the faces of the three Directors darkened, “Is this everything you have?” Crespi snapped suddenly.

  “Yes, sir,” Maxine answered, “as you can see, it’s quite clear cut.”

  “Yes, it is,” Ms. O’Keefe confirmed, “Who else knows about this?”

  “No one, madam. Just us.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, of course. Just the four of us.”

  “Excellent!” Morrison nodded meaningfully, and then snapped his fingers. “Now!”

  The two Security Guards reacted like lightning, each seizing one of Maxine’s arms and twisting her slim wrists behind her back, forcing her to bend forward in her seat.

  Taken completely by surprise, Maxine had no chance to resist and before she knew what was happening, a pair of handcuffs was locked tightly on her wrists.

  Recovering her wits, Maxine cried, “What are you doing? Stop! Let me go!” but the men ignored her and snapped a second pair of cuffs about her ankles, securing her before she could begin to fight.

  “What’s happening? Take these things off me!” Maxine wrenched and kicked in her efforts to free herself, but the steel circlets were locked and much too strong for her to break, digging into her soft skin as she fought in vain.

  “Don’t be stupid,” the redheaded woman sneered, “you can’t get out of those so you might as well shut up and listen while we tell you what we’re going to do with you.”

  The cold contempt in the woman’s voice sent a horrible chill through Maxine and she redoubled her efforts to escape. “Help!” she yelled at the top of her voice, “Help me somebody! Call the Police!”

  A hard hand clamped over her lips, thumb and fingers digging into her cheeks, so that her screams died to whimpers of pain.

  “Much better,” the speaker was Morrison and Maxine stared wildly at him as he smiled cruelly, “if you continue to scream, you will be gagged, but if you’re sensible and keep the noise down, you won’t be. So, are you going to be sensible?”

  Maxine trembled in despair as his eyes stared at her, and then managed a small nod.

  He nodded at the man squeezing her cheeks and his grip slackened.