Kathmandu

by Luke Richardson

  “Why would they want to arrest them though? They’re not really doing anything.”

  “Look at it this way,” Tau said, turning to face Leo on the busy road, “they have to arrest someone, that shows they’re doing something about it. They don’t want to arrest her because she has a family that needs looking after and the suppliers are hard to catch. The tourists just make easy pickings. In here,” Tau said, pointing towards another café on the left, “definitely time for a drink.”

  By the early afternoon they’d had a conversation with every receptionist, shop owner, or street seller within a mile of the guesthouse. Showing each of them the photo on Leo’s phone, explaining they were looking for Leo’s sister and offering money if Tau thought it would help.

  “You have to be careful who you offer money to,” Tau had explained when Leo had showed a man the notes before Tau mentioned it. “If it’s someone I know, or my family knows, they might get offended.”

  And so far, Leo reflected as he waited for Tau to order drinks in the café, they’d come up with nothing. Some had said no swiftly, on more than one occasion shooing them away with the palm of a hand. Others had thought for some time, flicking through large hotel record sheets or inviting them to consult CCTV systems. On those occasions Tau intervened saying that they should check themselves and call if they saw anything.

  Leo was certain though, as Tau approached the table, that he’d seen enough shady hotel receptions, dusty vegetables, yellowed newspapers and eager grins at the mention of money for at least the rest of the day.

  “Something will come up, don’t worry,” Tau said, in reassurance at Leo’s obvious frustration.

  “She could be pretty much anywhere,” Leo said. “Particularly if she doesn’t want to be found, then we’d have no chance.”

  “My mother used to say,” Tau said, becoming solemn, “that the world is too crazy, too busy. People want everything now, now, now.” He mimicked his mother’s voice as he spoke. “She said that when you really want something, you need to sit and think about the best way to get it. Running around never solved anything.”

  “Maybe,” Leo said, trying not to be skeptical, “I’m just not sure that works with missing people. They don’t seem to return of their own accord.”

  “Well, it works when you lose something,” Tau said, pausing to thank the lady who brought their coffee. “I remember once, my dad lost something. We were turning the place upside down and over to find it. People running everywhere and we didn’t really have a big house. I remember my Mum sat in a chair and watched for about an hour until we were all getting bored and frustrated. Then she got up, went to a drawer that no one had checked and it was there. I’ve no idea how she found it,” Tau said, looking towards the window. “But since that day, I believe there is always some truth in sitting and thinking about the problem you’ve got when you think you’re out of ideas.”

  Leo smiled at him; there was an element of truth in it.

  “Where do your parents live now?” he asked.

  Tau didn’t have a chance to answer as a rumble on the surface of the table caused the pair to look down. Leo’s phone rang, a long Nepalese number flashing on the screen.

  Leo passed it to Tau. If it was someone they’d spoken to this morning, it would be better if he took it.

  Tau answered, and a tinny voice started to speak. The conversation moved quickly – Leo couldn’t decide if it was good or bad.

  After less than a minute, Tau hung up.

  “That was the girl we saw at the Teku Guesthouse yesterday,” Tau said. “Says she knows where Allissa is.”

  Chapter 54

  Marcus Green sunk back into the driver’s seat and let his eyes lose focus on the car park around him. With the windscreen wipers off the water smothered the window, turning the yellow sign of the fast food restaurant he had just visited into thick refractions of colour across the grey London sky. The Stockwell case represented a good few months’ work and Green knew he was close. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he shut his eyes. This portion of an investigation was always stressful – he’d been sniffing around so long it made him uncomfortable. Normally, the quicker the investigation, the better. The longer it went on, the more likely the person being investigated would find out, and well-connected people found injunctions easy to come by.

  Injunctions were not the only thing he worried about, Green thought, watching two men in his rear-view mirror. Hooded against the rain, they stepped out of a Land Rover which had just pulled up behind Green’s BMW. Green eyed them as they started walking towards the restaurant.

  Right now, Green knew he held the key to it, the information was in his possession; it was just waiting to be put in the right order. But it would be worth it when he did manage to find the order. That link, that connection that made it all sing. If he could do that, then things were going to be very awkward for a powerful man.

  Getting the case together now was vital, not just for his career, which rode from one freelance job to the next, but to those Stockwell had wronged. That was another problem with the investigation going on this long, Green thought, as a car pulled into the car park, lights shining momentarily through the windscreen. He was starting to care. He couldn’t allow himself to think like that, though. He needed to stay focused on the job, work out what it all meant, how it all fitted together and what Stockwell’s position in it all was.

  The ringing of his phone on the car’s speakers startled him, his editor at the newspaper’s name flashing up on the screen. With a switch on the steering wheel, he answered.

  “Green,” the editor said as a greeting, “I know you’re working on this at the moment, so I’ll be brief. One of the lads has come up with something that might interest you.” The editor paused for a moment to cough. Green envisioned him sitting in his luxurious office just a few miles away.

  “It seems Stockwell made a few visits out to Kenya in the late eighties and early nineties. At the time it was reported that this was to grow export links with the president, but there were rumours that it was something more suspicious.”

  The thing about a case like this, whatever it was, you never knew when it was going to come together. You didn’t know whether you were five minutes or five months from the breakthrough.

  Kenya? What would Stockwell be doing in Kenya? Green’s mind ran as though under the buzz of a stimulant. His eyes, suddenly focused, looked around for his file of papers on the case.

  “It wasn’t a great time out there,” the editor mumbled on, “single party government, violence on the streets, different ethnic groups marginalised… perhaps exactly the sort of thing Stockwell would like to see here.” The editor chuckled, a deep barrel of a laugh.

  Green didn’t hear; he was rummaging through the papers in the folder on the passenger seat, amid the cartons of takeaway food. Finding what he was looking for, he pulled out the picture of the Stockwell family.

  “Anyway, we’ve got people on that, looking into what was going on out there.”

  Green stared blankly at the photograph, with the notes he’d scrawled on the back: Arthur (Archie) born 1985, Lucy born 1987, and Allissa born 1991.

  “You there, Green?” The impatient voice of the editor rang from the speakers.

  “Yes, yes,” Green said, flustered. “I’m sending you a picture now. I think I know what Stockwell was doing in Kenya.”

  Chapter 55

  Allissa, Fuli and Chimini were in position ahead of the arranged 4 PM arrival of the two men.

  Peering through a gap in one of the bedroom doors, behind where the men would talk to the girls at the reception desk, Allissa hid. Listening to the thump of her heartbeat in her ears, she watched Fuli and Chimini try to act normally, talking about the programme on the small screen TV attached to the wall. Allissa couldn’t see the TV, just hear its unrecognisable chatter.

  4 PM came and went in agonising seconds.

  Chimini had questioned whether it was a good idea to invite the men back
into the guesthouse, but Allissa thought they were unlikely to give up that easily and Fuli didn’t think they’d seemed dangerous. In fact, the description she’d given was complimentary if anything. Even so, Allissa had watched Chimini slide the sharpest kitchen knife they had beneath the checking-in book and Allissa had a large metal pole leaning up against the wall beside her hiding place. It paid to be careful.

  Looking back into the room, newly furnished and ready to receive guests, Allissa felt a welling of frustration. They’d achieved so much in the last few weeks, why was she now cowering in a bedroom behind a closed door? She hadn’t come halfway around the world to continue to run and hide.

  Looking towards the window, behind the blinds, the muggy square looked empty. Shadows from the skeletal trees spread like fingers across the dusty slabs as the sun began its descent.

  That, she supposed, was the nature of running. You didn’t get to decide when you stopped.

  Allissa continued to watch as a man walked into the square outside. The way he moved intrigued her, he scurried and then disappeared out of sight, as though hiding from someone. She knew there were plenty of strangely-behaved tourists in the city; he must be one of them. He could have been here for decades or just returned to relive a lost youth. Allissa watched as he passed a recessed doorway. Seeing the doorway he appeared to pause, look towards it, then at the guesthouse before scurrying out of sight.

  There are some strange people in Kathmandu, Allissa thought.

  The sound of echoing footsteps on the stairs behind her forced the thoughts of the strange man from her mind.

  Allissa turned back to the door. The girls were still behind the reception desk, acting as normal.

  As the footsteps drew close, Allissa pulled back, hidden, but listening to every step and breath.

  “Hey, how are you?” Allissa heard someone speak, a male voice, in English.

  Allissa smiled as there was no reply. The girls were going to make them work for it.

  “You have some information for us, about Allissa?” the voice said again, slowly and simply.

  Holding her breath and willing her heart to beat more quietly, Allissa slid across to the crack in the door. She had a good view of the room outside. Fuli and Chimini stood as they had before, watching the TV, and two men stood across the desk.

  After a few seconds, as though waiting for a signal, Chimini pressed a button silencing the TV. Stirring up a dislike for men, Allissa supposed, would be easy for women like Fuli and Chimini.

  “Why you want to see her?” Chimini asked, looking up at the man at the desk.

  “She is my sister,” he replied.

  “No, she is not,” Chimini replied. “Her brother looks nothing like you.”

  The man didn’t reply but shifted his weight from one foot to the other and then stepped forward. Allissa saw Chimini’s arm slide nearer to the check-in book. She imagined her gripping the knife in preparation.

  The man was picking his next move carefully. Chimini had given away the fact she knew Allissa well enough to have talked to her since their last visit, but that didn’t mean she was still in Kathmandu. It was worth it to expose his lie.

  Watching the scene unfold, Allissa felt her hand close around the metal pole. She hoped she wouldn’t need to use it, but with the cold metal came reassurance.

  The man cleared his throat, the raspy noise loud in the silent room. The larger, Nepali or Indian-looking man – Allissa couldn’t tell from behind – stepped backwards giving his friend some space.

  “You’re right, I lied,” the man at the front said, his voice soft and slow like a promise. “I’m looking for her because her family are very worried about her. They’ve not heard from her for a long time and just want to know if she’s alright.” He paused for a moment. Fuli looked towards Chimini.

  “They haven’t asked me to bring her home or anything,” he reassured. “I’m just here to check that she’s alright. Then I can let them know she’s fine and be out of your way.”

  Chimini didn’t reply. In the momentary silence, Allissa thought the man had been described well. From the back he was slight, pale, clearly an inexperienced tourist, with big messy hair.

  “Why should I help you find her?” Chimini asked after the silence had passed its breaking point.

  “You don’t have to help me,” he said. “You don’t have to, but…” He paused, making a choice.

  “I’m someone who knows what it’s like to lose someone. I know what the sleepless nights and unanswered questions do.” He paused. “My girlfriend went missing two years ago and I think about her every day. Every day I want to know where she is, so I help other people whose loved ones are missing too.”

  Allissa watched through the gap in the door. She knew that people looking for her could never be a good thing, but he didn’t seem to be the thick-necked thug she would have expected her dad to use. She’d seen those types around the house when she was younger, a group of wide-armed men who would arrive and talk to her dad in hushed tones. She definitely wasn’t expecting the soft words of this man who looked as though he hadn’t yet grown into his skin.

  “When Allissa’s Dad asked me to find his missing daughter,” he continued, putting the palms of his hands on the top of the reception desk, “I felt like I had to help.”

  When Allissa’s Dad asked me to find his missing daughter… the sentence bubbled in Allissa’s ears. His missing daughter.

  It rose like anger. A flame in a cave, invading the darkness.

  His missing daughter.

  How could she be his, after what he had done? He surrendered his claim to her when…

  The words came out before she realised.

  “My dad’s screwing with you as well then…”

  Chapter 56

  “The cheeky devil.” The voice of the editor rang through the speakers of Green’s car phone. Green was alert now, any thought of the frustration and tiredness he’d felt before vanishing with the realisation.

  “It wasn’t what was he doing in Kenya,” the editor said, “but who.”

  “Run me through the dates you know he was in Kenya – let’s work this out for sure,” Green said, pen in hand, a fresh page of his notebook ready.

  The editor read them from a list and Green copied them down.

  “That’s got to be it,” Green said. “His housekeeper told me Allissa didn’t arrive at the family home until she was five. It was one of those things everyone knew but no one talked about. They all assumed it was just a regular affair.”

  “They’re all at it,” the editor grumbled. “That sort of stuff doesn’t even sell papers anymore.”

  “But that leaves us with three main questions,” Green said, thinking out loud. “Who is Allissa’s mother? Where is she? And what was in the bank that Stockwell was paying so much to keep secret?”

  Chapter 57

  Leo wasn’t used to success. He was used to failure, disappointment, apologies and on occasion an almost there, but success was something he had very little experience of. He was so focused on how he was going to find Allissa, that he didn’t really know what he was going to do if and when he did. Talk to her, he supposed, then tell her dad she was all good, collect his money and go home.

  The moment before hearing the voice, Leo’s attention was fixed on one of the young ladies behind the reception desk. Her hazel eyes showed nothing but innocence, a profound childlike purity which Leo felt had drawn the honesty from him.

  “My dad’s screwing with you as well then.”

  The bottom fell from Leo’s stomach and a lump appeared in his throat as he heard the voice. It was one he didn’t recognise, but instantly felt he knew.

  Turning, he stood face-to-face with the woman he’d been looking for. Allissa Stockwell. Alive and well, in the flesh.

  She was taller than he’d imagined, but it was unmistakably her. Dark skin, darker than in the photos he’d seen, the result of months in a warm climate, dark hair, bright expressive eyes which burned
in anger. She had a tattoo that wasn’t visible in the pictures. A spider climbed a thread on the inside of her upper arm, shown by her sleeveless top.

  “My dad’s screwing you over too, is he?” Allissa repeated, when Leo came to his senses, his jaw open slightly.

  “I hope not,” Leo replied, shaking himself back into focus. “He’s already paid me to find you, so I suppose if anyone was screwing anyone, I was him until just now.”

  “He’ll have something prepared. You wait. When he’s finished, you see how long it takes to drop you,” Allissa said, her voice serrated.

  “As I just said to your friend here,” Leo indicated the receptionist who was standing to better see the events, “I’m not here to force you home or to do anything. I just want to talk to you so I can let your father know you’re alive and well.”

  “You can do that now, here I am.”

  “I have a few things I’d like to ask you, if that’s okay. Is there somewhere we could talk?”

  “All the rooms here are full.”

  “We can go to the café across the road. Coffee? Or something stronger?”

  Allissa looked to the two women stood behind Leo, perhaps for some kind of invisible agreement.

  “Yeah, alright,” she said. “But not for long, we have customers.”

  Chapter 58

  “Let me start by telling you a little about me,” Leo said to Allissa, across a table in the café. Tau had gone back to the hotel, his work complete.

  “I heard you telling Chimini,” Allissa said, “about your missing girlfriend. Is that true? Or was that a lie to get her to talk, like saying you were my brother?”

  “Totally true,” Leo said. “We were travelling down through Thailand. We’d had an amazing few weeks, and then one night she just disappeared. Left all her stuff, everything. I just came back to the room we were staying in and she was gone.”