awful,’ Annika said.
The customs officer pulled a face and stamped to get some life in his feet.
‘Well, it’s about time to shut up shop. Anything else you’re wondering?’
Annika looked round.
‘Only what’s in those warehouses.’
The customs officer pointed to them in turn.
‘Warehouse number eight,’ he said. ‘Empty right now. Number two, at the back there, is the Tallinn terminal and maritime customs. All freight from Tallinn has to go through there and have its papers checked before it gets to us.’
‘What sort of papers?’
‘Shipping documents – the contents of every container have to be listed. Then they get one of these to show us.’
The man pulled out a bright green sheet of paper with various stamps, signatures, and the letters IN.
‘And you check everything?’ Annika wondered.
‘Most of it, but we don’t have time to check it all.’
Annika gave him a sympathetic smile.
‘What makes you wave something through?’
The customs officer sighed. ‘If you open the back of a lorry and see crates and cartons piled right up to the roof, your heart sinks. If we’re going to check something like that, we have to take it into warehouse number seven over there in the container area, and unload the whole thing with forklifts. We’ve got customs officers who are trained to do that. Not enough, though.’
‘No, I can imagine,’ Annika said.
‘Then there are sealed containers – lorries that are just driving through Sweden without unloading. No one’s allowed to remove or add anything to a container like that until it reaches its country of destination.’
‘And those are the ones that say TIR on them?’
The man nodded. ‘There are other types of seal, but TIR is the most well-known. It stands for “Transport International Routier”, and allows for sealed cargoes to pass through countries without customs inspections.’
Annika pointed. ‘What are all those containers doing over there?’
He turned and looked at the parking area.
‘That’s where we keep freight that’s waiting to be loaded onto a ship to the Baltic States, or anything that needs to have duty paid on it before it can be brought into Sweden.’
‘Can you hire space there?’
‘No, you just turn up and use whatever space there is. No one keeps a proper check on what’s there. Or why. Or how long it’s there. It could be anything.’
‘Maybe even the odd carton of cigarettes?’
‘That’s all too likely.’
They smiled at each other.
‘Well, thanks for letting me take so much of your time,’ Annika said.
They walked off towards the entrance to the Frihamnen area together. Just as they were alongsidethe police cordon the floodlights came on, bathing everything in their harsh glare.
‘What a waste,’ the customs officer said. ‘Young lads, probably not much more than twenty.’
‘What did they look like?’ Annika wondered.
‘They didn’t have much idea about winter,’ the customs officer said. ‘They must have been freezing, wearing just their smart leather jackets and jeans. Nothing on their heads or hands either. Trainers.’
‘How were they lying?’
‘Practically on top of each other, both of them with holes through their heads.’
The customs officer tapped his head.
Annika stopped.
‘Didn’t anyone hear anything? Don’t you have security guards here at night?’
‘There are dogs in all the warehouses, apart from number eight, which is empty. They bark like mad if anyone tries to get in. There’s been a marked decline in theft and burglaries since they introduced the dogs, but they don’t make very good witnesses. I don’t know if anyone heard the shots. It was blowing a right storm, after all.’
They swapped business cards and said goodbye. Annika hurried away towards the bus shelter next to the sign to Tallinn, Klaipeda, Riga and St Petersburg. She was so cold her teeth were chattering. Loneliness enveloped her, heavy and wet. She stood there, a grey figure
The customs officer pulled a face and stamped to get some life in his feet.
‘Well, it’s about time to shut up shop. Anything else you’re wondering?’
Annika looked round.
‘Only what’s in those warehouses.’
The customs officer pointed to them in turn.
‘Warehouse number eight,’ he said. ‘Empty right now. Number two, at the back there, is the Tallinn terminal and maritime customs. All freight from Tallinn has to go through there and have its papers checked before it gets to us.’
‘What sort of papers?’
‘Shipping documents – the contents of every container have to be listed. Then they get one of these to show us.’
The man pulled out a bright green sheet of paper with various stamps, signatures, and the letters IN.
‘And you check everything?’ Annika wondered.
‘Most of it, but we don’t have time to check it all.’
Annika gave him a sympathetic smile.
‘What makes you wave something through?’
The customs officer sighed. ‘If you open the back of a lorry and see crates and cartons piled right up to the roof, your heart sinks. If we’re going to check something like that, we have to take it into warehouse number seven over there in the container area, and unload the whole thing with forklifts. We’ve got customs officers who are trained to do that. Not enough, though.’
‘No, I can imagine,’ Annika said.
‘Then there are sealed containers – lorries that are just driving through Sweden without unloading. No one’s allowed to remove or add anything to a container like that until it reaches its country of destination.’
‘And those are the ones that say TIR on them?’
The man nodded. ‘There are other types of seal, but TIR is the most well-known. It stands for “Transport International Routier”, and allows for sealed cargoes to pass through countries without customs inspections.’
Annika pointed. ‘What are all those containers doing over there?’
He turned and looked at the parking area.
‘That’s where we keep freight that’s waiting to be loaded onto a ship to the Baltic States, or anything that needs to have duty paid on it before it can be brought into Sweden.’
‘Can you hire space there?’
‘No, you just turn up and use whatever space there is. No one keeps a proper check on what’s there. Or why. Or how long it’s there. It could be anything.’
‘Maybe even the odd carton of cigarettes?’
‘That’s all too likely.’
They smiled at each other.
‘Well, thanks for letting me take so much of your time,’ Annika said.
They walked off towards the entrance to the Frihamnen area together. Just as they were alongsidethe police cordon the floodlights came on, bathing everything in their harsh glare.
‘What a waste,’ the customs officer said. ‘Young lads, probably not much more than twenty.’
‘What did they look like?’ Annika wondered.
‘They didn’t have much idea about winter,’ the customs officer said. ‘They must have been freezing, wearing just their smart leather jackets and jeans. Nothing on their heads or hands either. Trainers.’
‘How were they lying?’
‘Practically on top of each other, both of them with holes through their heads.’
The customs officer tapped his head.
Annika stopped.
‘Didn’t anyone hear anything? Don’t you have security guards here at night?’
‘There are dogs in all the warehouses, apart from number eight, which is empty. They bark like mad if anyone tries to get in. There’s been a marked decline in theft and burglaries since they introduced the dogs, but they don’t make very good witnesses. I don’t know if anyone heard the shots. It was blowing a right storm, after all.’
They swapped business cards and said goodbye. Annika hurried away towards the bus shelter next to the sign to Tallinn, Klaipeda, Riga and St Petersburg. She was so cold her teeth were chattering. Loneliness enveloped her, heavy and wet. She stood there, a grey figure
Similar Books
