The Leaves in Winter

by M. C. Miller

  “Please, sit down. Thank you for your patience.”

  Koteswara’s manner was cordial. Nonetheless, Janis could tell he had troubling business to attend to. She sat across from him and watched as he shuffled paperwork on his desk. He was a stocky man with a fresh haircut and a wide mustache.

  “Excuse me, I’m still getting settled in the new building. It’s quite something, don’t you think?”

  “Yes, it’s very nice.” Anxious to be on with it, Janis restrained the urge to press him for information right away.

  Koteswara perused an open file while he talked. He was obviously filling time to give himself a chance to catch up on the latest report.

  “Yes…we were all excited to move in. You might have heard on the news about the gift of 50,000 rupees given to the police by Sri Hari, the famous film actor. We bought furniture with it.” After a pause to read, he gazed up from the file and looked Janis up and down. “That chair you’re sitting in was purchased with his gift.”

  “Very generous of him.”

  His gaze, all over her, was too noticeable. He wanted her to be aware of it. If his intent was to deliberately make her feel uncomfortable, he’d succeeded. Maybe he wanted to bring her emotions to the surface. See what, if anything, she might be hiding. A sexual innuendo was out of place. His reason had to be elsewhere.

  He leaned back. “This is a neighborhood police station. As you know, your case is being handled by SIT, the Special Investigation Team. They’ve asked me to be point of contact on the case. The truth is, we’re understaffed. There are only four Inspectors and 12 Sub-Inspectors in SIT for all Hyderabad. Each neighborhood gets by with less.”

  “I realize that but I was told there might be promising leads.”

  “Who told you that?” As Janis hesitated over the name, Koteswara waved it off. “It doesn’t matter. The Assistant Commissioner believes the future of this case is out of our jurisdiction.”

  “How can that be? My daughter was kidnapped in this neighborhood.”

  “Yes, but the promising leads you talk about all suggest Alyssa was taken out of the country. All we can do here is reconstruct past history. Finding her is a future event that must be pursued somewhere else.”

  “So is that it? You do nothing more?” Her voice quaked with emotion. “You’re just a messenger because SIT has given up?”

  “It’s understandable you’re upset…”

  “Damned right! My daughter was taken in broad daylight. I gave you a description of the men, the car, the direction of travel…”

  “Be assured, we are ready to work with any outside agency…”

  “What about local connections to the kidnappers? What about following up on how they got her out?”

  “This was done by professionals. They knew very well how to hide their tracks. Of course we will investigate any new information as it comes up. I have to be honest with you. We don’t expect much in that regard.”

  “I can’t accept that. I was told there would be an investigation of money transfers to anyone associated with the group New Class Order. Certain individuals were arrested for vandalism of NovoSenectus property. I was told there would be background checks…”

  “All well and good. Some of it has been done. Some of it is in the pipeline.”

  “The pipeline?”

  “There is a method to police business. You really must trust us on this. We are still in contact with Stockholm authorities and we’ve begun checking with local airports to have them review any irregularities with non-commercial flights.”

  “So what am I supposed to do? You don’t have any more information for me. Where do I go for help now?”

  “Investigations take time. The main thing is not to despair.”

  On the verge of tears, Janis stood to go.

  Koteswara leaned forward. “There is one other thing.”

  Janis froze then turned back with curiosity as Koteswara checked his notes.

  “Inspector Sudarshan would like to see you at Central Crime Station tomorrow morning at ten o’clock for a deposition.”

  “You need a sworn statement from me?”

  “It’s been requested of anyone who was with Malcolm Stowe during the last few days. You saw him on several occasions, isn’t that right?”

  Janis recoiled. However did he know that? “Yes, but why Malcolm?”

  “Haven’t you heard?” Janis gave a shake of her head. “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought you knew. Malcolm Stowe died late yesterday.”

  Janis felt faint and sat back down. “How?”

  “An automobile accident.”

  “What time?”

  “Late afternoon.”

  “Where? What happened?” Janis was dazed.

  “It was a single car accident in an area quite a ways west of here.”

  “I don’t understand. Why do you need depositions if it was an accident?”

  Koteswara rocked back and forward in his chair. “It seems Mr. Stowe did special security work for your employer, NovoSenectus. Were you aware of that?”

  “I knew he was a Security Agent. I assumed he protected the corporate campus but I didn’t know his role for sure.”

  “According to the company, he had in his possession a variety of sensitive items that must be returned. They want to find where he might have left the material as soon as possible.”

  “Are they suggesting someone has this material improperly?”

  “No, nothing of the sort. As a security agent, Mr. Stowe was privy to many things the company would rather not share with competitors. Some things would be tempting to any thief. Malcolm’s accident was so sudden, naturally there are loose ends. They just want to be sure everything he had is properly returned.”

  “You need sworn statements for that?”

  “The company wishes to be thorough – just in case anything comes up later that involves an Intellectual Capital Property Crime.”

  “Do you have any idea what’s missing?”

  Koteswara rocked forward and stopped to check the file. “Looks like standard items. The same things every employee would have to turn in – cell phone, laptop, cardkeys, access badges.”

  “I see…” Janis stood to leave once again. “You said Inspector Sudarshan…”

  “…ten o’clock at Central Crime Station. Shouldn’t take more than an hour.” Koteswara scribbled something on a slip of paper. “Here, in case you have any questions, you can email the inspector directly.”

  Janis stepped forward and read the paper as she took it in hand.

  sho.ccs@hyd.appolice.gov.in

  She nodded at him and he nodded back. There was nothing more to say.

  Janis couldn’t speak. Her mind raced too fast. Shock and surprise, terror and dread; another colleague was dead and it felt like a trap was being set.

  Koteswara wasn’t on the level with her. What did NovoSenectus tell the police? Were they playing it straight? Maybe they didn’t care if Malcolm’s death looked like a murder. What was the last assignment given to Malcolm? Did they lure him to a remote place west of the city expecting no loose ends? Did they ransack his house after they couldn’t find the missing items in his car? Did the police even check his house? How did Koteswara know Malcolm was with her recently? Had she been followed to the train station?

  The appointment at Central Crime Station was a more immediate concern. What would be asked of her tomorrow if she showed up? What could she say?

  Janis crossed the lobby of the police station and hurried into the light of day feeling as if she had escaped. The police were only doing their duty.

  NovoSenectus had made the whole matter look like a legitimate concern. Mass’ corporation was a major corporate presence in the city, employing thousands. It was easy to leverage the police to do its bidding. It all appeared so matter-of-fact. No wonder Koteswara toyed with her, gauging her discomfort. Everyone suspects something more – even if everyone has to pretend otherwise.

  Aware someone might be watching her
, Janis slowed her pace walking to her car. She got behind the wheel and waited for a semblance of composure that didn’t come. She couldn’t tell the police the truth and there was no future in trying to live a lie. Riya and Malcolm had both died because they possessed certain information.

  Now she had the laptop.

  That made her the next target.

  Janis drove into traffic with an aimless need to move forward. Stunned with indecision, she followed traffic for an hour without settling on a destination. Where to go now? Home was no longer a sanctuary. Work was no longer a safe haven. In the trunk of her car, in the space where the spare tire should be, Malcolm’s laptop and cell phone lay wrapped and hidden in a blanket.

  Powerful forces would kill to have those things. But getting rid of them wouldn’t help. Not now. Janis had to assume that Eugene Mass wouldn’t take chances. Anyone who had discovered his plan must be eliminated. No loose ends. Even if she did the unthinkable and drove to NovoSenectus to turn in the missing items, she was sure the result would be the same. Within hours, she too would have some sort of accident.

  An hour and a half after leaving the police station, Janis was still on the road, driving in circles looking for a way out. Night had come to Hyderabad but it offered no rest. Nothing was left for her there. She would surely die if she stayed. Koteswara had confirmed it – Alyssa was out of the country. If she was ever going to be found, Janis needed to leave the country too.

  Janis turned the wheel in the direction of the airport. She felt that one simple action dividing her past life from an unknown future. Suddenly, the two of them were very different things. Her old life was gone. She knew that now. It would never come back. There was nothing left but a future she must take day-by-day. It was a decision she was forced to make. She was only beginning to realize how stark and sharp-edged life could be when forced to survive on those terms. The detective had summed it up; finding Alyssa is a future event that must be pursued somewhere else.

  She parked in long-term parking and bought the first ticket she could get going anywhere in Western Europe or the States. The nearest departure was a flight to Miami with connections in Bengaluru and Paris. Flight time, nearly twenty-eight hours. She sat waiting on the concourse not knowing if she would go all the way. She wasn’t sure where she was going at all. Running away, it didn’t seem to matter.

  Clutching the laptop with cell phone in pocket, she was handed back her ticket stub. She hurried onto the plane and belted herself in her seat. For the first time in her life, an airplane seatbelt felt like security. Her eagerness to be in the air was tormented by delays on the ground. Her worst fear was seeing airport security come on board to take her into custody. Did anyone know she was at the airport? She paid for her ticket with cash from an ATM but was someone tracking bank transactions? Nervousness bordered on paranoia.

  To distract herself, she opened Malcolm’s laptop. It powered up out of hibernation just where he had left it. With fingers hovering over the keyboard, Janis wavered. What now? The keyboard exuded a power, a potential force for good. How would she wield it?

  She brought up Malcolm’s email client and opened a new email. Checking his contacts list, she selected the one person she was most interested in having a discussion with.

  Knockout Mouse.

  Chapter 11

  West Shore Road

  South Hero Island, Vermont

  A shroud of gray over a slab of white. Beyond the trees, the winter sky hung low over frozen Lake Champlain. Janis knew these roads as childhood friends. Driving them now, as necessary as it was, felt like a betrayal. As if coming with her on this trip was a loss of innocence to mar a place she knew only as paradise.

  Dashboard vents in the rented Jeep Wrangler gushed heated air but little comfort. The ride up from Albany had been a crucible of reflection. She never liked long drives. Her mind was always too restless for them. But compared to the interminable airline flights into Paris, Miami, then New York, she shouldn’t complain. At least the act of driving required a diverting concentration and focus.

  Around a familiar bend in the road, there appeared a welcomed sign that she had arrived. It still stood, just as she remembered it as a little girl, just as it was the last time she saw it several years before. Crafted in wood and painted white with light blue lettering, the sign announced the entrance to Bright Hope Farms.

  In times past, Janis’ grandfather had raised horses on the vast property. Her mother and father had used it as a fair weather getaway from the businesses they co-managed. Some of their happiest times were spend there. With Father gone, Mother gravitated to it as the place to live out her years. It was as close as she could get to him now. Surrounded by a sometimes senseless world she no longer felt a part of, Mother had found in solitude a refuge if not consolation.

  Janis slowed the Jeep and shifted into four-wheel drive. The long traverse down the narrow lane of compacted snow and ice gave her a sense of stark contrast. Most of her memories of this place were forged in the warmth of summer. In her fondest memories, the wooded areas were so much brighter and full of vibrant foliage. Wild flowers dotted the landscape. Now those places were locked away under a mantle of frost and fallen leaves.

  Smoke rose from the chimney of the main house. Janis parked the Jeep alongside a wood pile and turned to the backpack on the seat next to her. She had bought it at Charles de Gaulle airport, along with a change of clothes and a tin of Calissons d'Aix almond candy. Add Malcolm’s laptop and the clothes on her back. These were the sum total of all the physical possessions she had left in the world.

  The front door of the main house opened and Janis snapped alert. Grabbing the backpack, she exited the Jeep and took the frigid walk to the porch.

  Sara Rushton stood in the doorway with arms folded against the chill. The gray-haired woman offered a brave smile in welcome but her eyes were sad. She had heard enough bad news. Janis had shared incredible details of her harrowing tale. Calls from public phones during her recent layovers were a disturbing confession. Sara was ready for some good news but didn’t expect it. Seeing her daughter again was good news enough. For now.

  Mother and daughter hugged and kissed in the doorway before Sara hurried them inside where it was warm.

  Janis felt suddenly out of place. “Thank you for letting me come here.”

  “Nonsense. You belong here. It’s so good to see you.”

  “You too. But I don’t want to put you in danger.”

  “Don’t worry yourself. You need someplace safe.”

  Janis dropped her backpack on a couch. “I’m not sure that’s possible anymore.”

  Taking a moment to look around, Janis was overcome. The child in her was home. All the tension of the last thirty hours roiled up. Her abrupt tears were enough to trigger the same in Sara.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Janis fought to form the words. “I should have made time to visit more. I got too lost in my work. I’m sorry.”

  “What are you saying? Your work is important. I’m the one who made things difficult. I can live anywhere but I hung onto this place in the middle of nowhere. I’m delighted and thankful you got away as much as you could.”

  Janis wiped her eyes. “It’s all turned into a mess, hasn’t it?”

  “Don’t give up hope. There are still possibilities.” Sara took her by the hand. “Come on, let’s get you settled in and have some tea.”

  Janis nodded and managed a smile. Mother showed her to her room upstairs. Of course Janis knew the way but Sara wanted to watch her daughter’s delight in finding it just as she left it.

  All of Janis’ senses took inventory. The scent of jasmine and honeysuckle sachet came first. Then the sight of a double bed, a dresser and desk, a cedar chest she used to call a hope chest. The feel and exact placement of comforter and pillows, jewelry box and favorite dolls were confirmed. Janis felt at one and yet removed from it all. She stepped to the window and remembered all the dreaming she had done from the special vantag
e point of youth.

  “I’ll let you freshen up. I’ll be in the kitchen.” Sara retreated downstairs.

  Janis took her time. To be surrounded by the youthful energy of when she had been Janis Rushton was a luxury to be savored in the moment. She hoped the feeling would somehow recharge her spirit and shore up her resolve.

  She took off her coat and slipped Malcolm’s laptop from the backpack. With a renewed thirst and curiosity, she headed downstairs.

  “Is that it?” Sara eyed the laptop as she would a WMD.

  Janis nodded and sat at the table with fingers on the keyboard.

  Sara brought tea. “Have you heard anything back?”

  “I’m checking now.” Janis waited for the email client to load.

  “From what you said, it sounded like you don’t know who this is.”

  “I know Eugene Mass wants him blackmailed. That’s enough.”

  “I thought you said the other man, Malcolm was the one doing that.”

  “Yes but Malcolm told me Mass was the one who gave him the tip in the first place. Malcolm wouldn’t have found Knockout Mouse if it wasn’t for that tip.”

  “I don’t like it.” Sara poured from her teapot. “You shouldn’t have anything to do with Mass anymore.”

  “It’s too late for that.” Incoming mail populated the screen. “Here it is.”

  “He answered?”

  “Why not? He thinks he’s writing to Malcolm.”

  As Janis read silently, Sara got up and looked over her shoulder.

  TO: malsto

  FROM: km

  SUBJECT: RE: urgent

  Is this a joke? As if you don’t know.

  OK you bugger, I’ll play along.

  Answer #1 is André Bolard.

  Lives and works in Marseille. Escapes to Port Frioul.