Cold Grave by Kathryn Fox

than a heated altercation when one of those involved has his legs shot off. I’m covering all bases.’
    ‘If it helps, I can explain how things work here.’
    ‘Please do,’ Fitz said. ‘Doctor Crichton’s getting a grand tour.’
    ‘The industry has worked very hard over the past decade toward reducing its environmental footprint. The Paradisio is unsurpassed in terms of her green credentials. We go above and beyond every industry standard and regulation.’
    Cockroach had begun to hand-sort rubbish from a number of bags, separating plastics, paper, glass and tin into separate tubs. Another man soon joined him, then another. Together, they worked quickly, to the clanging and smashing from the machines.
    ‘As you can see, anything and everything that can be recycled is separated on board. We have state-of-the-art facilities: shredders, compactors and baling equipment, and crushers – as you can see, and hear – which we use for glass, tin and aluminium.
    He took them through an open doorway to another section. Compacted cans compressed into large cubes were stacked in rows along one wall, almost to the ceiling.
    Anya couldn’t help but notice that each cube had been wrapped tightly in plastic from an industrial roll. The wall of crushed cans was astounding, especially considering they had only been at sea a day. This was a garbage tip for the equivalent of a small town, compacted into a few rooms.
    ‘What sort of a worker was Carlos?’
    Wise readjusted his glasses again. ‘He was a hard worker. Kept to himself as far as I can tell.’
    ‘Did he have any beefs with any of your team?’
    The compactor clunked into action and, a minute later, produced a bale of crushed metal cans. A worker from the other room entered with more tubs of aluminium, refilled the machine and removed the compressed block.
    ‘Not that I know of. The crew come here to work and aren’t paid to socialise. Most of our team are from South America and speak Portuguese or Spanish.’
    ‘What about religious or cultural differences? Does everyone pull his weight?’
    ‘Yes. Our Muslim crew are permitted time-out for prayers, just as smokers take their breaks. No one should feel as though they’re working harder than anyone else. Carlos was a consistent worker. We keep meticulous logs and records, and I’d know if any of the shifts was doing less than their share.’
    Up until now, Anya had not thought twice about where rubbish and refuse from the staterooms and decks ended up. ‘How much rubbish is generated on the ship?’
    ‘Each passenger can generate up to three and a half kilograms of waste per day. We have just over three thousand passengers this leg, which makes over eleven thousand kilograms every day this week.’
    The figure was almost inconceivable. ‘Is all of that sorted and kept down here?’ She thought it would have needed an army to keep up with that amount of rubbish, and felt a twang of guilt about how much she had already contributed.
    Wise stood straight. ‘It includes food waste, which is macerated and incinerated. We incinerate a lot of the plastic and paper, storing the ash in a specially designed cold room. I’d show you, but it also contains hazardous waste: sewage sludge.’
    ‘That’s fine,’ Fitz commented, as he wandered around the room. ‘I don’t need to see and smell shit to know it’s there.’ He was examining the notes pinned to walls and machines, and the safety signs that were written in multiple languages. He then turned his attention to some of the bags and sorted materials.
    ‘What happens to the sewage?’ Anya hated to think how much passengers and crew produced, and where that was stored.
    ‘On average, we process over a million litres of what we call black water – sewage and medical waste – every week. We have the most advanced water treatment systems available, which satisfy every environmental protection agency and marine standard.’
    Wise sounded like a poster boy for the