by Paul Adam
Alicia glanced uncertainly at them, twisting her fingers together nervously. Consuela tried to put her at ease.
‘Thank you for agreeing to see us,’ she said with a smile. ‘I hope we can do something to help your brother.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Alicia replied. ‘I hope so too. Please, sit down.’ She gestured at a threadbare sofa and an armchair. ‘The kettle’s boiled. Can I offer you some tea?’
‘Thank you, that’s very kind,’ Consuela said.
‘Three?’
‘Not for me, thanks,’ said Max.
Alicia smiled apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t have any soft drinks. We’re not used to entertaining young people. Perhaps a glass of water?’
‘I’m fine, thanks,’ he replied.
He sat down at one end of the sofa and looked around the room. It was small and cluttered, the sofa and armchair taking up most of the available space. There were two little tables covered with stacks of books and magazines, and paintings and framed photographs hung on the walls. Max recognized Alicia in several of the photos. She was on her own in a couple, but mostly she was pictured next to a studious-looking man in wire-rimmed spectacles who could only have been her brother. The photographs had all been taken outdoors – on the tops of mountains, Alicia and Redmond swathed in cagoules and woolly hats, or in what looked like tropical rainforest, both of them in shorts and T-shirts. One photograph showed them standing on a raised wooden platform with an orang-utan only a couple of metres away from them.
Alicia carried in a tray of cups and saucers from the kitchen and placed it precariously on top of a pile of magazines on one of the tables. Then she brought out a pot of tea. She filled cups for Consuela and Chris and handed them round.
‘Redmond’s just next door,’ she said. ‘We’ve had to convert the dining room into a bedroom for him. He can’t manage the stairs any more. I’ll get you settled before I introduce you. Too much noise and movement upsets him.’
‘Are you sure he’s up to seeing us?’ Max asked.
‘Well, you’ve come all this way. It would be a pity not to meet him. But what’s this all about? You didn’t say much on the phone.’
‘Would you mind if we got to that a bit later? After we’ve spoken to your brother?’
Alicia looked at him doubtfully.
‘Please, Miss Ashworth-Ames,’ Max said. ‘We want to help you. You have to believe us. We think we know what happened to your brother, but we need to speak to him first.’
Alicia thought for a moment, then gave a slight shrug. ‘I suppose that would be all right. But I warn you, he’s not able to talk much.’
‘Thank you.’
She went across the hall and into the room on the other side. She came back a few minutes later, pushing a man in a wheelchair. Max was shocked by his condition. Redmond Ashworth-Ames was clearly very sick indeed. He was slumped sideways in the wheelchair, his head tilted over at an angle as if his neck muscles were too weak to support it. But it was his eyes that were most noticeable. They couldn’t have been more different from the ones in the photos on the wall. In the pictures, Redmond’s eyes were bright and alert, shining with life and intelligence. Now they looked vacant and dead, like stars that had burned out.
‘Redmond, you have some visitors,’ Alicia said. ‘This is Max, and this is Consuela, and this is Chris.’
She went round all three of them, though it was clear that Redmond wasn’t in any state to take in the information. His head lolled over, his eyes staring blankly at the sitting-room wall.
‘I’m afraid he’s in rather a bad way today,’ Alicia told them. ‘That happens. He has good days and bad days.’
‘You said on the phone that he’s been like this for the past year …’ Max said.
‘That’s right.’
‘Since he went to Peru.’
‘The doctors think he might have caught something there. Some disease or virus. He’s had lots of tests, but they haven’t been able to establish what exactly is wrong with him. He’s seen several specialists in London, but – as I told you on the phone – they’re all baffled by his condition.’
‘It must be very distressing for you,’ Consuela said sympathetically.
Alicia nodded at her. She seemed reassured to have another woman there. ‘It is. He used to be so energetic, so involved in things – and now look at him. How can a person change so drastically in such a short space of time?’
‘Perhaps you could tell us what happened to him?’ Max said.
‘Well,’ Alicia replied, ‘it all began last spring – April. Redmond went to Peru. He’s travelled all around the world for his job, but he’d never been to Machu Picchu. You know, the famous ruined Inca city – you must have seen photographs of it. He’d always wanted to go there. He was away for three weeks, and when he came back he seemed the same as before. He was well; he’d had a great holiday; he went back to work and everything seemed fine. But then, after about a fortnight, he was taken ill.
‘At first it was just a fever – like a bad case of flu. He went to bed with a raging temperature, rested, but the fever got worse. I came over one evening – I didn’t live here then – and found him unconscious. I don’t mean asleep – he was in a coma. I couldn’t wake him. I called an ambulance and he was taken to hospital. He was in intensive care for four, five weeks. I was sure he was going to die. But then he pulled round. He recovered consciousness, he came home, even though he wasn’t better. Physically he was very weak – he still is: that’s why he has to have a wheelchair – but mentally he was even worse. He could barely speak most days, and when he did, nothing he said made sense. His memory too was affected. He can remember almost nothing about the past few years. There are days when he doesn’t even know who I am.’
Alicia broke off and blinked away tears. This was obviously a very painful subject for her.
‘I’m sorry to put you through this,’ Max said gently, ‘but we think that when your brother went to Peru, he was kidnapped and taken to a place called Shadow Island, off the coast of Santo Domingo.’
‘Kidnapped?’ Alicia gaped at him incredulously. ‘What are you talking about? Why would anyone kidnap my brother?’
‘I know it sounds far-fetched,’ Max told her, ‘but hear me out, please. I saw the files on the island. Your brother’s name was there. Date of arrival, April the sixteenth last year. Is that when he went to South America?’
‘Well, yes, he went on the twelfth. But this is ludicrous. Redmond kidnapped? You must be mistaken.’
‘You say that some days he’s better than others, that he talks. Has he ever said anything about Shadow Island? Its name in Spanish is Isla de Sombra.’
As Max said the words there was an instant reaction from Redmond Ashworth-Ames. He let out a cry – a low, agonized cry that made Max’s skin tingle, gave him goose pimples on his arms. He looked across at the figure in the wheelchair. Redmond’s lips were moving as if he were trying to speak, but no words came out, just an incomprehensible series of moans. He tried to lift his head, straining visibly, putting in a superhuman effort. Slowly his chin came up. His eyes swivelled round, and for the first time Max saw some expression in them. There was a glint of something in those dark, empty orbs. Max realized with a shudder that it was a look of pure terror.
Alicia stood up and went over to her brother. She stroked his hair and face, trying to calm him. He was still moaning, a strange, disturbing sound like a wounded animal.
‘It’s OK, it’s OK,’ Alicia murmured soothingly. ‘I’m here, there’s nothing to fear.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Max said, averting his eyes from Redmond. It was too upsetting to watch him.
‘It’s not your fault – you weren’t to know,’ Alicia said. ‘Yes, he has mentioned … that name … before. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I thought he was just rambling.’
‘What did he say about it?’
‘Nothing I could understand. Just repeated those three words, usually at night. H
e wakes up a lot, sometimes screaming. He has very bad nightmares.’
She stroked her brother’s head some more until, gradually, he stopped moaning and was quiet. Alicia stayed by his side, holding his hand to comfort him.
‘It’s terrible to see him like this. If you can help me in any way, I’d be so grateful. What’s wrong with him? You said your father had the same illness. Is he like Redmond?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think he’s quite as ill,’ Max replied. ‘He managed to write me a letter to tell me he hadn’t been well. But I know he was also held prisoner on’ – he watched Redmond, not wanting to say anything that might agitate him again – ‘on the island. I think both he and your brother were given a brainwashing drug.’
‘A brainwashing drug?’ Alicia said. ‘None of this makes any sense. Drugs … kidnapping? It’s crazy.’
Chris spoke for the first time. ‘It may sound crazy, Miss Ashworth-Ames, but it’s true. I was kidnapped too – abducted from the Amazon rainforest and taken to the island.’ Alicia stared at him, her brow furrowing. ‘You? You were kidnapped? Why? Who would do such a thing?’
‘I think it has something to do with their jobs,’ Max said. ‘Chris was working for an environmental charity. Your brother was an ecologist – what kind of work was he doing?’
‘He was in Borneo, studying the tropical rainforest, which is rapidly disappearing. It’s being cut down for oil-palm plantations. Animals are suffering as their habitat is being destroyed.’ She pointed to the photograph on the wall. ‘That was taken in Borneo – a place called Tanjung Puting National Park. I went out to visit Redmond there. The park is an orang-utan sanctuary. They’re becoming almost extinct in the wild because of man’s activities – logging, farming, bio-fuel production.’
She turned back to Chris. ‘But you haven’t answered my question. Who would want to kidnap you, or my brother?’
‘The island is owned by a businessman named Julius Clark,’ Chris replied. ‘He’s been carrying out experiments on prisoners there.’
‘For what purpose?’
‘We don’t know.’
Alicia was silent for a time, deep in thought, her hand still entwined with her brother’s. Redmond’s head had tipped over to one side again and he was staring into space.
‘I find this too incredible to believe,’ Alicia murmured eventually.
‘Look at your brother,’ said Chris. ‘Do you really think he’s just got a virus? Look at the effect the name of the island had on him. He was there, believe me, and it was a terrifying experience for him.’
‘Have you been to the police?’
It was Max who replied. ‘We’re still working out what to do. We don’t know who we can trust. You’re right, it’s all very hard to believe. Julius Clark is a rich, powerful tycoon. The police would think we were raving mad, accusing him of kidnapping and drugging people.’
‘Then what are you going to do?’
‘Gather information, probe deeper, find some real, hard proof to back up our case and then we’ll go public with it.’
Max eyed Redmond anxiously. He’d come here to talk to him, but it looked now as if that wasn’t going to work. Still, he had to at least try.
‘I don’t want to upset your brother again,’ he went on, ‘but would you mind if I asked him a few questions?’
‘Well, I don’t know …’ Alicia replied hesitantly.
‘Please, I’ll be careful what I say.’
Alicia nodded. ‘All right, go ahead. But you must stop if he shows signs of distress.’
Max got up from the sofa and moved closer to Redmond, perching on the arm of Consuela’s chair so that his eyes were on a level with Redmond’s. He needed to see his face. Redmond might struggle to speak, but there were other ways of communicating with him, of gauging his response to questions.
‘Hi,’ Max said. ‘My name’s Max Cassidy. I’d like to ask you about your trip to Peru. Can you remember what happened there?’
Redmond didn’t respond. He didn’t look at Max, gave no sign that he even knew he was there, let alone that he’d heard the question.
Max tried again. ‘Were you kidnapped? Did someone abduct you and take you to’ – Max wanted to avoid saying Isla de Sombra – ‘to that place – that island?’
Redmond still didn’t look at Max. His eyes were dull and empty, rolling slightly in their sockets.
Max wasn’t going to give up. He decided to try some of the names of the other prisoners who’d been kept on Shadow Island; see if he got a reaction.
‘Have you ever heard of James Abbott?’
No response.
‘Or Narang Anwar?’
Nothing. Not a blink.
‘What about Erik Blomkvist?’
There was a flicker of something in Redmond’s eyes. A tiny spark that flared for a moment and was then extinguished. Max felt a tingle of excitement. He’d got a reaction. Slight, but it was there nonetheless.
‘You knew Erik?’
The spark came again, and this time it didn’t die. Max knew he had to nurse it as if he were tending a fire, keep it glowing, blow gently on it until it grew into a flame.
‘What do you know about him? Was he kidnapped too? Why was Erik taken to Shadow Island?’
Redmond’s eyes turned towards Max, vague to start with, but then becoming more focused. He licked his lips and gave what sounded like a groan, a low rumble that came from deep inside him. There was emotion in the sound, but what was it? Discomfort? Pain? Something else?
Alicia started to intervene. ‘I don’t think this—’
‘No, please, wait,’ Max broke in. ‘Listen, he’s trying to say something.’
In the midst of all the incoherent noises, Max thought he could detect the outline of a word. No, two words.
‘Eeee urr. Eeee urr.’
What was he saying?
‘Eeee urr.’
What was it? Max ran the sounds around inside his head, trying to match the pattern to a known word or phrase. Something was missing. A letter; maybe several letters. Add a consonant, he told himself. See what you get. But which consonant?
‘Beee urr … deee urr … feee urr …’ He tried a few more. ‘Seee urr …’
The light flashed in Redmond’s eyes.
‘Seee urr,’ Max repeated. ‘See her. Is that it?’
Then it dawned on him. It wasn’t ‘see her’, but ‘cedar’.
‘Cedar? Cedar Alliance? That’s what you’re saying, isn’t it? Cedar Alliance.’
He saw in Redmond’s face that he had guessed correctly.
‘What about it?’ Max asked eagerly. ‘Do you know what it is? Did Erik know?’ He leaned towards Redmond, gazing intently into his eyes. ‘I need to know. What is the Cedar Alliance?’
The moans continued, coloured now by an undertone of distress. Redmond’s frustration and anger were getting too much for him.
Alicia, sensitive to all his moods, stepped in to protect him. ‘That’s enough,’ she said sharply. ‘You must stop, I insist.’
‘OK, I’m sorry,’ Max said softly. He pulled back, feeling frustrated himself now. The answer he was seeking was there in Redmond Ashworth-Ames, only it was buried too deep for him to find.
‘Do you know what the Cedar Alliance is?’ Max asked Alicia. ‘Has he mentioned it before?’
‘I’ve never heard of it. I think perhaps you should go now. Redmond needs a period of quiet before I put him to bed.’
‘Yes, of course, we understand.’ Consuela stood up and picked up her bag. ‘Thank you so much for allowing us to visit. I’m sorry if we’ve upset your brother.’
‘If he says anything about Shadow Island or the Cedar Alliance,’ Max said, ‘please would you get in touch with me? You have my number. In the meantime, could you tell his doctors that you suspect he might have been given a drug called Episuderon. It might help them treat him.’
‘Episuderon?’
‘That’s right. But please don’t say who told you about the
drug – not for the time being anyway. And please keep our visit this evening a secret.’
‘Is all this – this mystery – really necessary?’
‘I think so,’ Max said. ‘If we find out any more about what happened to your brother, we’ll let you know. Thank you for seeing us.’
He headed for the door. Before he left, he took a last look at Redmond, who was once more slumped sideways in his wheelchair, his arms dangling loosely down, his head flopping over. His jaw was moving as if he were chewing, and he was babbling quietly to himself, his eyes lifeless, his mind shut away behind a door that might never again be opened.
Max felt a chill pass through him. He had no doubt that Redmond’s condition had been caused by Episuderon, the same drug that Max’s father had been given on Shadow Island. Was my dad like this at some point? Max wondered. Is that why he disappeared for two years? Why he didn’t get in touch with me or come home? Alexander had mentioned the drug in the letter he’d left for Max in Santo Domingo. He’d said that he had good days when he could think clearly, and bad days when his mind seemed to go blank.
Max couldn’t bear the thought of his father being sick and incapacitated, unable to speak or walk and with no one to look after him. It would have been easy to get upset, but that wasn’t Max’s way. He wasn’t going to let it get him down; he was going to do something about it. More than ever now, he was determined to track his father down.
He was very quiet as they walked towards the car. Consuela put her arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick squeeze. She had an almost telepathic ability to sense his thoughts, to empathize with how he was feeling.
‘I’ll drive back,’ Chris said.
‘What if the surveillance team is outside the house again?’ Consuela asked.
‘We’ll swap over before we get there. You can drive the last bit and I’ll lie down on the floor in the back.’
Consuela handed Chris the keys. She was happy to let him take over. Seeing Redmond Ashworth-Ames had upset her as well as Max. She didn’t feel up to concentrating on the long drive home along unfamiliar roads.
