The Number 8

by Joel Arcanjo

  It turned out the police had a working relationship with the company and filled in all the paperwork explicitly stating that they were not at fault for Marco’s death. Dante had conflicting feelings about this decision. Firstly, it was corrupt and reckless but it also meant that the next day they were free to head to Queenstown. The place he was sure everything would come to a head. He was so close now. There was a theory coming together in his mind that was so outlandish that, if it were true, it would have taken years of planning. He needed the internet. He needed to search for articles involving Viktor and Marco that would be well over ten years old. That held the key to this story. But, there was no internet in Franz Josef. He was stuck for now.

  In the meantime, he had someone to talk to.

  He took Asmir with him and went in search of James. He knew something of value, Dante just didn’t know quite what.

  They found James in his dorm room having showered and changed.

  “James. What did you know about Viktor and Marco?” Asmir blurted out before Dante could even get in a word.

  “What the hell are you doing in here? Get out!” he bellowed, his tattooed shoulders rose and sunk as his breath quickened.

  “No chance. Viktor and Marco. Go,” Asmir said again.

  “They didn’t know each other.”

  “Oh, how wrong you are…” Asmir started before Dante shushed him loudly.

  “What was Viktor’s surname?” Dante asked, changing the line of questioning.

  “He’s had so many, but I knew him as Viktor Martin.”

  Dante shook his head. “No, I’m talking about before you ever met. Did you talk much about those times?”

  “I told you we didn’t. He never wanted to talk about his past. But,” he paused, fighting with the idea of telling them what he knew, “his birth name was Viktor Swan. He changed it because he hated the name and there were too many bad memories of that time in his life.”

  That was all Dante needed to know. He thanked James politely and dragged Asmir away. James grunted after them like he wanted to say something, but he couldn’t really be bothered.

  The group dedicated the rest of the day entirely to Marco. They went back to the hot pools and told stories about him. They were few and far between and most were of the themed party at the Poo Pub, where Marco had gotten a little merry and decided to dance and sing with the pub landlord who was used to his pub being frequented by inebriated youths.

  The group had decided amongst themselves not to mention the manner of his death but to focus on his life. No one, it seemed, knew Marco very well but, unlike Viktor, everyone liked him. He was polite, considerate and easy to talk to, but only when they started the conversation.

  They had a couple of drinks for Marco in the bar and then went back to the hostel. No one was in the mood to stay out, especially not Dante who could not wait until he got to the hostel in Queenstown. It was killing him that he couldn’t verify his theory. Instead, he went to sleep early. But when he closed his eyes all he saw was Marco’s colorless face staring back at him. Haunting him. Begging Dante to get him justice. He made a promise to Marco’s battered, unblinking, face that he would not leave New Zealand until he knew for certain who had killed him. Dante never broke his promises.

  The morning couldn’t come soon enough for Dante. He hadn’t slept much. The tortured face had haunted him all night. He felt such guilt even though he knew he could not have prevented his death. Yet, he had known that someone else was going to die.

  The bus rolled up to collect them at a little after ten. Queenstown was the highlight of the tour but the magic had well and truly fizzled out for the bus. They had lost two passengers in a fortnight. Dante had even heard some passengers saying that they were going home after Queenstown. It was understandable. Even Dante felt that way and he had no idea what he was going back to.

  They were back on Highway Six and Queenstown was their next stop. It was two and a half hours drive away with no stops and Dante was hoping that there wouldn’t be any. Dante and Asmir were both sat in their usual seats but, all around them, they didn’t see fellow passengers now. They saw suspects. For the whole journey they remained silent or talked about issues not relating to what was really on their minds. They couldn’t risk someone overhearing them any more. They were so close to a breakthrough, finally.

  The road cut through lowlands and then ascended slowly until, before they knew it, they were in the mountains. The roads got smaller and the bus took longer and longer to turn the sharp corners. The view would have been beautiful if it hadn’t been for the torrential rain blasting its way through the mountain pass.

  The descent was even more terrifying. Watching as a giant chunk of metal careered down a tight mountain road in the rain was not fun. He couldn’t imagine what it was like for Ben, who was trying to take it slow despite the every-growing line of cars behind him that were constantly edging closer. But he handled himself and the vehicle well.

  When they finally reached Queenstown, Dante was not disappointed. It was situated on the banks of Lake Wakatipu which was colossal in size. Unlike the surrounding area, the town was on a flat piece of terrain. Because of the rain, not a great deal could be seen, but it was their accommodation that took his breath away. The hostel they were staying in was right next to the lake which made for incredible views. Several of the double rooms even had balconies. The moment they entered Dante was struck by their facilities. The reception was modern and painted a painfully bright shade of orange. To the left was what he had been praying for since the previous evening. There was a sunken area that housed about six desktop computers. Four of them were taken, two were free. In the back there was a large dining area which was currently buzzing with the sound of people who had just finished making lunch.

  Everything inside him was telling him to drop his bags and head straight for the computer. But he decided to at least take his bags up to his room first.

  It turned out that they had been given one of the coveted twin rooms with a balcony. They decided not to venture out onto it. The rain had eased up but they had more important things to do. They dropped their stuff on the floor and, without unpacking anything, went back downstairs.

  There were still two free computers, so Dante jumped on one and Asmir the other. They began to type furiously, but seconds into their research they were stopped.

  “I’m glad I found you two.” It was Ryan and he had news. “The company has decided to call this trip off. They’re getting bad press from the incidents on this bus and they don’t want to leave the door open for any more. As a result, we’re going tomorrow afternoon. But there is one piece of good news. We’re still going to be doing all the activities we planned in Queenstown. Only problem is, we have to fit it all into this afternoon and tomorrow morning.”

  Dante and Asmir couldn’t argue with the company’s decision to call off the trip. Two passengers dying on one of their buses is most definitely not good publicity. But the news was sure to cause major disruption to people’s plans.

  “So what’s gonna happen about the flights that we have booked a few days from now back to Auckland from Christchurch, and how are we gonna get to Christchurch for that matter?” Asmir asked, more concerned about the sights that they were missing out on than the money it was costing.

  “Don’t worry about that. The company will pay for your journey to Christchurch and accommodation until the day that your flight leaves.”

  That’s acceptable, Dante thought.

  “The final thing is that we had to bring up the bungy jumping excursions to, well, now,” he said shrugging.

  “But, it’s raining. Do they allow that?”

  “No, but it’s set to worsen and there’s only about a two-hour window of decent weather and it’s right now, so we have to go,” he said gesturing for them to follow him.

  “I can’t, I have to look this up, it’s important,” Dante said, looking at Asmir.

  “Mate, are you kidding me? The computer will st
ill be here in a couple of hours and this chance won’t.” He leant in closer and whispered, “Do you really think anything is going to change in the next two hours?”

  Dante didn’t answer. But he allowed himself to be dragged away by Ryan and Asmir.

  He should have told Asmir what his predominant thought was, because that may have changed things.

  Yes, Az, I think everything could change in the next two hours.

  Chapter 43

  There were three major bungy jumps in Queenstown and Dante was headed to the one furthest from town. It was also the least extreme. It was situated on an older bridge over a river. There were two options: get wet or don’t. That meant when you jumped off the bridge the instructors would adjust the bungy cable so that you either touched the water, or stayed above it. It was already raining so Dante decided that he may as well choose the “get wet” option.

  Asmir had chosen the much larger and much more expensive option. It was a 134-meter drop and the free fall took about eight and a half seconds, which didn’t seem like a long time, but Dante was sure it would feel like hours. It was situated between two large hills. They were barren except for a small river that was barely visible from the bungy platform.

  Most had joined Asmir while only five had decided to join Dante. That didn’t matter to Dante. All it meant was that they had less time to wait and he could get back to verifying his theory. But as it turned out, that is not what happened at all.

  After his exhilarating jump and losing his T-shirt as the cord ripped him out of the water forcefully, Dante and the others got on the bus to return to Queenstown. They got on the bus only to be told that the engine was malfunctioning and they had to wait for a repair van to come and sort them out. Dante sat at the back with Annie watching the jumps over and over.

  “How were you so calm? You just smiled at the camera and swan dived right off!” Annie said.

  “Trust me, I wasn’t calm. But if you really think about it, what would have standing there for an extra twenty, thirty seconds changed? Wasted time, Annie, wasted time,” he repeated.

  “I guess, but I was just trying to psyche myself up to go through with it. But, I take your point. I did it after all,” she smiled.

  They waited patiently for over an hour. But Dante’s fidgeting had kicked in after just five minutes. He was biting his nails and his leg was going crazy. Somehow, this seemed like it had been planned.

  Asmir was back at the hostel now. He was sitting at the computers waiting for Dante. He hadn’t got a text or a call and, with what had happened, he was starting to get worried. Becki was keeping him company as she had all afternoon. He had nearly bailed on the bungy when he had seen how far down it was. From way up there the river looked like the tiniest little sliver dissecting the land. He had been in the first group and so had Becki, which had helped him a great deal. She refused to take her turn before him because she knew that, if she went first, chances are he would have wimped out. When he had finally jumped, the fall had felt like it would never end. His stomach felt like it would burst through the top of his head at any moment and his eyes watered uncontrollably. But he did it and he gave Becki most of the credit.

  “It’s no use waiting around here for Dante. You heard Ryan, our tour is over. Let’s go and make the most of the last day here,” Becki pleaded.

  “What do you have in mind?” Asmir asked, not really prepared to entertain any idea she was about to propose.

  “OK, let’s take the gondola to Bob’s Peak. The views up there are meant to be out of this world. What do you say?”

  “Becki, it’s raining right now. There’s nothing to see. And did you say Bob’s Peak? That can’t be the real name. Who would name…”

  “It’s barely drizzling and yes, Bob’s Peak. Let’s go!” she said again, grabbing him by the arm and making a beeline for the door.

  He wasn’t in the mood for this at all, but he did want to spend as much time with Becki as he could before they left New Zealand, so he let her drag him away.

  After another twenty minutes of waiting, the repair truck arrived. Another five minutes later and the repair man had fixed the problem. This told Dante that it was something easily rectifiable and, therefore, something easy to tamper with. But he wasn’t focused on who had done this. All he cared about was getting back to the computer.

  The rain had slowed but the wind had picked up. The bus slithered back towards Queenstown. As they entered the town, Dante glanced to his right. He saw the cable cars moving up and down the mountain. They were swaying from side to side.

  Dante remembered thinking, I’m glad I’m not up there right now.

  Chapter 44

  “This seems like a really bad idea right now, Becki. Look at those things, they’re moving, a lot,” Asmir said, pointing up at the cable cars.

  “Oh, live a little Asmir. It’s perfectly safe. Follow me.”

  And against his better judgement, he followed her onto the cable car. The doors closed and he immediately sat down. It was cold in the giant plastic box and it smelled like wet dog. The seat was so uncomfortable that he got up almost instantly. He was seconds away from opening the doors manually and getting the hell out of there. But he was too late. The cable car coughed and spluttered to life and they were off. The rain wasn’t the issue any more, it was the wind that was scaring him now. He could hear the high-pitched whistle as they edged closer to the exit. Then, just as they breached the building housing the cable cars, they felt the raw, untamed power of the wind as it struck the side of their car. It swung them a good three meters before finding a rhythm and evening out.

  They rode towards Bob’s Peak, trying to enjoy themselves despite the wind. The view really was special. They had a panoramic view of the entire area. He could see their hostel clearly and he could look out across the lake and beyond. The wind had whipped up the waters and it was anything but calm. He couldn’t spot a single boat that had been brave enough to venture out in these torrid conditions.

  A small white bus that had just pulled onto the road that was parallel to their hostel caught his eye.

  Looks like D’s back, he thought.

  Dante was cold, wet and on a come down from the adrenaline kick the bungy jump had given him. What he really wanted was a hot shower and a cup of hot tea, preferably with a lot of sugar. But, before any of that could happen, he had to scour the internet for any articles that featured both Marco and Viktor. He was sure that they held the key.

  Annie had left him to go upstairs and dry off. Sopping wet and getting crazy looks from the others using the computers, he sat himself down in the corner chair. He didn’t want to drip all over the floor, so he began to type furiously, signing on to the hostel’s internet and then typing in Viktor’s full name and what he knew of Marco’s.

  The first few websites were dead ends. It seemed there were a lot of people named Viktor Swan, which was strange to Dante. Plus, not having Marco’s surname made everything a lot more complicated. The first couple of pages of Google had nothing. Dante clicked on the third and yet again the top four were not what he was looking for. But the fifth was a newspaper article written fifteen years ago. The moment he clicked on it, he knew he had struck gold.

  They were much younger, maybe six or seven, but it was definitely them. Viktor and Marco stood together smiling, with their arms draped over each other wearing matching school uniforms. But they weren’t the only kids in the photo. There was a third little boy. He was a small, pale little boy who was standing with them but was being very much shunned. He was stood at the edge of the duo, almost lurking.

  The caption under the photo said, “Jasper Napier was killed last night while following his friends across train tracks near his home.” Dante assumed they meant Viktor and Marco.

  The article went on to explain that Viktor and Marco had crossed the tracks just before the train. Jasper had tried to follow them, but had tripped and fallen right in front of it.

  At the bottom there was another link t
o a related article. This one focused on the case. It seemed Jasper’s family were claiming that Viktor and Marco were not Jasper’s friends. Instead, they claimed the boys had bullied him all throughout school and to be accepted by them Jasper would have done anything they asked. The family claimed Viktor and Marco made Jasper wait to the last moment before running out in front of the train. They believed the two boys were responsible for his death.

  But, as was often the case, there was no proof. The two boys got away with it and disappeared. Clearly they had taken very different paths after that. Viktor had become a violent, arrogant troublemaker and Marco had gone the other way and thrown himself head first into academic work.

  But this article sympathized with the family. Halfway down the article there was a picture of a man being held back by security in the courthouse. His eyes were wide with rage and he was bearing his teeth. It was the father of the victim. But, most worryingly, Dante had seen him before. He had seen him every day of the trip. He was younger in the photo, with more hair and less suntan, but he knew who it was. It was the bus driver, Ben.

  Asmir was halfway up to Bob’s Peak now. It was 450 meters from the cable car’s base in Queenstown. The cable car was really swinging, so much so that Asmir was feeling a little bit of motion sickness coming on. He didn’t usually have an issue with movement. He was fine with boats and cars, which told him that this thing was really rocking. Becki on the other hand was perfectly calm and seemingly enjoying herself. She was peering out of the cable car, her arm resting on the window.

  “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said, unblinking.

  “Yeah, wish it wasn’t this windy though…” Asmir said, dulling the mood.

  “We’re nearly there,” she smiled.

  “Not really, there’s still a while to go to the summit.”