The Informationist: A Thriller

by Taylor Stevens

  On behalf of Richard Burbank and for the purpose of review by your client Michael Munroe, I am sending the complete collection of documents related to Emily Burbank’s disappearance.

  In addition to the summaries that follow below, attached are six PDF files that include copies of all communication from Ms. Burbank prior to her disappearance, government records and documents, as well as reports and transcripts (including translations) from private investigations, in total 238 pages.

  Sincerely,

  Miles Bradford Capstone

  Security Consulting

  BACKGROUND SUMMARY

  Namibia: Wild, vast, spectacularly beautiful, and home to some of Africa’s best animal preserves. It is sparsely populated, outlined by the Namib Desert on the Atlantic coast and the Kalahari Desert on the eastern border. The country is, by African standards, safe and modern, the government stable, and the infrastructure solid. It is not the first place on the continent to come to mind when a foreigner disappears, but an Internet café in the capital of Windhoek became Emily Burbank’s last known place of contact.

  Nearly five months separated Emily’s arrival in Africa from her disappearance. The journey began in South Africa as an overland safari. The tour by open-air truck lasted thirty days and passed through six countries on its way through the south and east of Africa, ending in Nairobi, Kenya.

  Originally scheduled to return to Johannesburg by air, Emily remained in East Africa with two men from the overland tour, Kristof Berger (German, later determined to be 22 years of age) and Mel Shore (Australian, 31). Of this decision, Emily wrote, “We want to skip the game parks and visit towns and villages off the beaten trail and, if we can, spend time living with the local population in some of the rural areas we’ve already passed through. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Kris and Mel are great, and we keep an eye out for each other.” (See addendum for original copy.)

  Two months separated this e-mail from the next contact, which came by way of a phone call out of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. There is no record of this conversation; it was later relayed by Elizabeth Burbank. The trio still traveled together, the lapse in communication due to their having spent over a month living in a Masai village outside of the Serengeti, where they had been without electricity and the closest telephone over a day’s walk away. That stay had ended when Emily developed a fever and her traveling companions took her to a Catholic mission for malaria treatment. At the time of the call, Emily had fully recovered and the trio was about to begin the overland return to Johannesburg.

  E-mail from Emily arrived at regular intervals: Lusaka, Livingstone, Gaborone, and finally Johannesburg, each a brief note providing detail on location and the next segment of travel.

  Several days before her scheduled return to the United States, Emily gave notice of her decision to remain in Africa for an additional two months. Her plans would then route her through Europe, where she would spend a few weeks traveling the Balkans with Kristof before returning home.

  In communications that followed, Elizabeth agreed to send Emily money for Europe if her time in Africa was limited to one month and, upon receiving Emily’s consent, wired four thousand dollars.

  Emily wrote from Windhoek a week later. Together with a small amount of descriptive detail on the trip and the promise to notify her family as soon as she knew where they would go next, Emily provided Kristof Berger’s address in Langen, Germany, requesting that her mother post a few items so that they would be waiting when she arrived.

  This was the last communication received from Emily Burbank.

  When Emily did not contact her family and failed to return home on the established date, the Burbanks contacted South African Airways in an attempt to discover if Emily had departed Africa for Europe. The airline had no record of Emily’s boarding the flight out of Johannesburg or the connecting flight in Europe and, citing security factors, was unable to provide information on either Kristof Berger or Mel Shore. The Burbanks filed a missing-persons report with their local police department and contacted the Department of State.

  INVESTIGATIONS SUMMARY

  From the onset it has been understood that the chances of locating Emily are slim. Emily had set a precedent for traveling to remote areas, and although it is assumed that she would have notified her family before leaving Namibia, it is not certain; therefore the actual location of her disappearance is open to speculation. Additionally, little is known about her traveling companions and the relationship among the three. Permutations are many, and the investigations that followed centered not only on locating Emily but also on locating the men who traveled with her.

  Phase One: The initial phase of the investigation branched immediately in three directions.

  Namibia: The U.S. Department of State, the U.S. embassy in Windhoek, and local law enforcement worked jointly to trace the movements of the trio throughout the capital. After outlining three days of stay, the trail ended cold. Beyond being able to ascertain that Emily Burbank and her traveling companions had indeed been in the capital, no additional information was forthcoming. From this first phase, the following is worth noting:

  At the hostel in which they stayed, the proprietor heard them discussing Luanda (Angola), and at a restaurant the trio frequented, a waiter recalled Kristof Berger inquiring extensively about the Caprivi Strip and road conditions to Ruacana on the border of Angola. Another waiter said he had heard them discuss Libreville (Gabon).

  Kristof Berger: Using the address Emily provided, a second team was sent to Germany to locate Kristof Berger’s mother. When shown photos of Emily, the woman denied having seen her, and when the line of questioning turned to Kristof, she terminated the conversation.

  Working through the Langen Rathaus, the team was able to confirm that Kristof had returned to Germany, and it is worth noting that the date of Kristof’s return to Europe does not coincide with the flight details Emily provided her parents. Repeated attempts to locate him proved futile.

  Mel Shore: Emily’s letters home had provided only scattered pieces of information about Mel Shore, and through these his name, age, and nationality are assumed. Beyond this, little is known of the man, and all attempts to locate his city of origin or family members have failed.

  Phase Two: Local law enforcement worked to establish a basis for Emily Burbank’s remaining in or leaving Namibia. The only intra-African airlines flying out of Windhoek that retained searchable records were South African Airways and Air Namibia, neither of which held any listing of Emily. That the trio had caught a bush plane or traveled out of Namibia by road could not be ruled out.

  Based on information provided in phase one, the investigation transferred to Ruacana and then to the cities through the Caprivi Strip, a narrow stretch of lush land sandwiched between Botswana and Zambia. The investigators were not able to locate anyone who recalled the young travelers.

  All indications pointed to the group’s having left Namibia, but no record of their having done so existed. At this phase active searching within Namibia stopped.

  Phase Three: The Burbank family sent a team of lawyers to the U.S. embassies in Luanda, Pretoria, and Gaborone. Similar visits to the German and Australian embassies were made on the chance that information on Kristof Berger and Mel Shore could be garnered. The embassies had received no reports of missing citizens and were unable to help.

  Phases one through three lasted the better part of eight months and concluded when no definitive information on Emily Burbank or either of her two traveling companions could be unearthed.

  Phase Four: Roughly a year after Emily’s disappearance, the package that Elizabeth Burbank had mailed to Emily in care of Kristof at his address was received back in Houston, unopened, marked “return to sender.” Once again a team was dispatched to Europe, and Kristof was eventually located at Klinik Hohe Mark. Chronologically, Kristof’s first admission appears to be shortly after his return from Africa. Medical records show that he suffered a mental breakdown, initially responded well
to treatment, and was released after six months. He was returned that same month and has since been a permanent resident.

  The investigative team was able to speak with him, but he wasn’t lucid and what responses he gave had no bearing on the conversation or the questions asked of him. Transcripts and translations are included in the supporting documents.

  Unable to learn anything from Kristof, the team once again attempted to speak with Frau Berger. Offered a substantial sum of money, the woman agreed to listen to their questions. When again shown photographs of Emily Burbank, Frau Berger did not recognize her, nor could she provide details on where Kristof had been while in Africa or whom he had befriended while traveling. She merely confirmed the date that Kirstof had returned and admitted to the date he had entered the institution.

  Suspecting that Frau Berger knew more than she was revealing and seeing the state of the woman’s home, the investigating team offered an additional sum of money should she recall further details, and with that, Frau Berger again terminated the conversation.

  Phase Five: In Namibia, where the first and second phases ended, a group of former military personnel attempted to track Emily’s path out of the country. Over a four-month period, they reviewed exit records at every staffed land-border crossing in Namibia and spoke with every official available; given that they were generously dispersing “bonuses,” they also spoke with many who were not officials. In the end there was no record of Emily’s having left Namibia.

  Phase Six: In e-mails home and in conversations with Elizabeth Burbank, Emily had indicated plans to remain in Africa to travel through countries not yet visited. Geographically, the only direction the group could go to fulfill this plan would have been north.

  No visas were issued to Emily or to either of her companions from the Angolan, Congolese, or Gabonese embassies in Windhoek. Visas for these countries could have been applied for elsewhere on the continent, or the trio, now familiar with the protocols of African border transit, may have attempted to purchase visas while border crossing.

  Although Angola borders Namibia to the north, those who knew Emily had difficulty believing that she would enter the country. Entering Angola overland as a tourist was not considered possible at the time and is still inadvisable due to the decades of conflict. However, there was the possibility that the trio had flown to Luanda as a stop point to head farther north. Congo and Gabon also posed question marks, as they are expensive to travel to, in terms of the transportation costs as well as visas, food, and shelter.

  Language was an additional consideration. Unlike South and East Africa, where English is widely spoken, along the west coast of Africa, French is the primary language. Emily did speak rudimentary French, and it had by this point been confirmed through Kristof Berger’s school records that he, too, spoke French. Nothing is known about Mel Shore.

  The search team split in three and traveled to Angola, Gabon, and Congo. As with the previous phases of the investigation, this venture ended with no additional information.

  Munroe turned the page and jotted another note on the addendum. All things considered, the extensiveness of the search was impressive, and the family had committed a sizable chunk of resources to it. But there were questions the history did not answer.

  Papers were strewn around her. The coffee cup on the bedside table had been filled and refilled several times and, in spite of precautions, had left a ring on the furniture.

  Munroe picked up the mug—time for another. It was nearly eight in the evening. Noah would be back soon; he wouldn’t be able to help returning to her. She poured another cup of coffee.

  The details of the case ran through her head, and with them came the memories. It was another life, another world, untamed and vast, where stretches of two-lane tarmac ran veinlike through sub-Saharan emptiness, and buses—old, rusted, and belching black smoke—pumped the blood of humanity along the way.

  It was a world where urban areas were intractable masses, indelible human footprints that rose out of the landscape fusing modernity with the castoffs and refuse of Europe and Asia, where even the new was old before its time, and where hot running water and stable electricity were still considered luxuries to most.

  Munroe took a sip of the tepid liquid and let out an involuntary snort. No wonder each investigation turned up nothing. The continent was vast, records nonexistent, and evidence scarce. Finding the girl was highly improbable.

  But the challenge was seductive, and its alluring tendrils wrapped themselves around her mind like the ethereal threads of a spider’s web.

  A gentle knock at the door jolted her from her thoughts. She opened the door, and Noah greeted her with a kiss and handed her a small white rose. She tucked the flower behind her ear, and he looked past her to the documents spread out on the bed. In French he said, “Are you busy? Should I come back another time?”

  She tugged on his shirt collar, drew him close, and kissed him. “No. Give me a minute to put this in order. There’s something I want to show you.”

  Outside, Munroe pulled away the sleeve that protected the bike from the elements and curious hands, and Noah knelt down beside it and brushed his fingers across the sleek body.

  “From one enthusiast to another, I thought you could appreciate it.”

  He smiled. “I do.”

  They headed to lower Greenville, where they found a dance club and spent several hours moving around the floor oblivious to everything and everyone around them, engrossed in the rhythm and in the closeness of their bodies. By the time they got back to the hotel, it was nearly three in the morning.

  The days that followed brought a similar pattern. Noah would be gone before she was fully awake, and in his absence she perused and deliberated over the information provided in the Burbank files. When he returned, they would take the bike out.

  She showed him Dallas, took him to the places she rarely found the time to go to, and when they had experienced all that they could, they would return to the quiet of the room and the satisfaction of exploring each other’s bodies. Being with him brought peace; the edge of anxiety that had been stalking her since her arrival ebbed, and inside her head the demons were sleeping.

  IT WAS THE fourth morning, and for the first time Munroe woke with Noah in her bed. She ran her fingers over his chest, and he reached for her hand, rolled to his side, and kissed the top of her head.

  Munroe switched on her phone, and waiting was a message from Breeden. She got up to jot a few numbers and then crawled back into bed and snuggled against Noah’s chest. “When is your flight?” she whispered.

  “Tomorrow evening.”

  “I leave for Houston early tomorrow,” she said.

  Silent for a moment, he said, “We still have tonight.” There was genuine sadness in his voice and, worse, she felt it too. He was meant to be a challenge, a conquest to numb the torment of anxiety, not to seep into the crevices of her mind. “I’ll be back at eight,” he said. “Have dinner with me?”

  “Of course,” she whispered and kissed him, and then as a way of escape climbed out of bed for the shower.

  WHEN HE HAD gone, Munroe sat cross-legged on the bed with dossiers on Richard, Elizabeth, and Emily Burbank lined up in front of her. The dossiers—assembled by Breeden or whoever Breeden had hired to put them together—were standard practice, critical to an assignment. Every potential employer had a private motivation for pulling her into a project, and that motivation didn’t always coincide with what she was officially told.

  Munroe searched the dossiers for information to better understand the background, and after having spent the greater part of the day finding nothing more than what amounted to high-society gossip, she tossed them aside.

  She left the hotel just before six and headed north on the bike, no destination in mind, only the desire to burn fuel and, through a surge of speed, purge the demons that had begun to stir. The adrenaline worked as a nostrum, an appeasement, a small sacrifice to the gods in exchange for a few hours of pea
ce.

  Three hours later, with nearly three hundred miles added to the odometer, Munroe returned to the hotel. When she entered the room, Noah greeted her with a full bouquet of flowers—no accusatory questions about why she’d kept him waiting, only a kiss and the fragrance of the roses. She smiled and reciprocated his kiss. Both were gestures of rote, neither calculated nor genuine. Internally, she was shutting down.

  He produced a bottle of wine and poured a glass. “Are you still going to Houston tomorrow?”

  She took the glass, kissed him again, and set it aside. “I’ll leave at six or seven,” she said. She shrugged out of her jeans. “Let me shower, and then we can go.”

  He stroked her cheek and ran his fingers through her hair, then sat on the edge of the bed and pulled her, half naked, to his lap. His hands slid around her waist. “Come with me to Morocco.”

  The invitation should have signaled triumph, official notice that the challenge was over, that it was time to go. She slipped off his lap and stood by the window, staring at the city lights in the distance and hating most that she wanted what he offered.

  It wasn’t the first time a conquest had made such a request or similar words had been spoken, but it was the first that she’d felt a twinge of longing—that desire to fly off into the proverbial sunset for however long it might last.

  “I’m not saying that I don’t want it,” she said. “I just can’t do it.” Silent for a moment, she returned from the window, climbed onto the bed, and placed a knee on either side of his legs. She held his face to her chest and kissed the top of his head.