The Girl Who Saved the King of Sweden [antikvár]

CHAPTER 1 On a girl in a shack and the man who posthumously helped her escape it IN SOME WAYS THEY WERE LUCKY, THE LATRINE EMPTIERS IN South Africa's largest shantytown. After all, they had both a job and a roof over their heads. On the other hand, from a statistical perspective they had no future. Most of them would die young of tuberculosis, pneumonia, diarrhea, pills, alcohol, or a combination of these. One or two of them might get to experience his fiftieth birthday. The manager of one of the latrine offices in Soweto was one example. But he was both sickly and worn-out. He'd started washing down far too many painkillers with far too many beers, far too early in the day. As a result, he happened to lash out at a representative of the City of Johannesburg Sanitation Department who had been dispatched to the office. A Kaffir who didn't know his place. The incident was reported all the way up to the unit director in Johannesburg, who announced the next day, during the morning coffee break with his colleagues, that it was time to replace the illiterate in Sector B. Incidentally it was an unusually pleasant morning coffee break. Cake was served to welcome a new sanitation assistant. His name was Piet du Toit, he was twenty-three years old, and this was his first job out of college.