Page 117

At first glance, there was nothing remarkable about it. Dates, company names, freight numbers, shipment weights and customs declarations covered the page. It resembled the paperwork produced by any legitimate company moving goods through European ports.

Artemus selected the first entry.

“This manifest was created eighteen months ago. The declared cargo was medical equipment intended for private clinics outside Rome. The containers left Bari, crossed the Adriatic and reached an inland warehouse three days later.”

He enlarged the registration details at the bottom of the document.

“The problem is that these container numbers were never issued.”

Marcello rose from his chair and approached the desk.

“Ghost containers.”

Artemus nodded. “They were entered into private records, but they never appeared in the official port system. As far as customs is concerned, they don’t exist.”

“What did they contain?” Tone asked.

Artemus hesitated. It lasted less than a second, but it was enough. He opened another file. Names filled the screen. Each name was accompanied by an age, nationality, arrival point and price.

The youngest was thirteen.

Adriana drew in a broken breath beside me.

I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t take my eyes from the screen.

The list continued past the bottom of the page. Girls and women had been transported from Albania, Moldova, Romania, Tunisia and Nigeria. Some had entered Italy through ports. Others had been collected from shelters, clinics and temporary housing facilities.

Notes had been added beside their names.

Compliant.

Difficult.

Injured.

Innocent.

Transferred.

The words reduced human lives to inventory.

Adriana moved closer to the desk.

“What does transferred mean?”

Artemus stared at the screen rather than answering her.

“Artemus.” Atlas’s voice carried a warning, but not the one Artemus expected. Atlas was not telling him to remain silent. He was telling him not to soften the truth. Artemus rubbed a hand over his mouth.

“It means they were moved out of the primary network. Some were sold to private buyers. Others were passed to medical brokers or criminal groups operating outside Italy.”

Adriana’s face lost its color.

“Medical brokers?”

Artemus opened a separate column.

Beside several names were blood types, medical histories and tissue matches.