The Mountain Shadow

‘She did it alone, in fact. When she mentioned the idea to me, I offered to help, but she took charge of it herself.’

‘Who else was there?’

‘Her friends from the art gallery, a few of us from Leopold’s, Kavita, Vikram, Johnny Cigar and his wife, Naveen Adair and Diva Devnani, the Zodiac Georges, and Stuart Vinson and his Norwegian girlfriend. Lisa’s parents had already left the city, with her body, so it was a quiet affair.’

‘Who spoke for Lisa?’

‘No-one spoke. We just sat, silently, and then one by one we all left the church.’

Yesterday, when I should’ve been there, with others who loved Lisa. But yesterday I was staring at a severed head, on the side of the road. Yesterday, I was being warned by my tall, thin contact at the airport not to go home.

You are not in danger, he’d said. I hadn’t been paying attention. I hadn’t realised that what he’d said was specific to me. He’d hesitated, after the first word, for just an eyelid flicker: You, are not in danger.

He was telling me that I wasn’t in danger, but that someone else was. Did he know? Did he already know that Lisa was dead, when he met me at the airport?

And then I remembered Blue Hijab’s tears, the sadness in them, the long, silent stare, when she dropped me at the airport. Did she know about Lisa?

It happened days ago. The Sanjay Company knew, for sure: they knew everything that happened in their ward. I guessed that Sanjay was worried I might find out about Lisa somehow, at the airport, and lose control. He sent the thin man, in case I found out about Lisa, and compromised his mission.

‘I have done some research, with Naveen Adair,’ Didier said, examining me closely.

The ground was moving or my knees were moving as if I was back on the deck of the Mitratta. I couldn’t focus on what Didier was saying. There was ocean-sound in most of my mind. Lisa. Lisa. Lisa.

‘Lin?’

‘Sorry, what?’

‘I have been checking some facts, with Naveen.’

‘What facts?’

‘It is not possible to determine how the Rohypnol came to be in Lisa’s hands, but we did find out who supplied it.’

‘You did? How?’

‘We examined the pills from the evidence locker, and they have very distinctive markings.’

‘You stole police evidence?’

‘No, of course not. I bought police evidence.’

‘Well done. Whose dope was it?’

He hesitated, squinting at me, a net of concern covering his face.

‘If I tell you, will you promise, truly, that you will not kill him without me?’

‘Who is it?’

‘Concannon,’ he sighed.

That slippery slide shivered through the street again. I held the wall tighter, to stop falling. I couldn’t tell if I was dizzy, or the world was unbalanced. Everything was out of sync.

I looked around me, trying to get my head straight. The night was new-moon clear. The stars were paled city light. Behind us cars passed in shoals, as fish passed in shoals before us, in the bay.

‘She was not raped,’ Didier said.

‘What . . . did you say?’

‘When this drug is involved, there is always a suspicion of rape,’ he said softly. ‘The police report said that there was no sign of rape. I . . . thought you should know that.’

I looked down at the waves, lapping and splashing on boulders at the base of the sea wall: waves cleaning shells and driftwood twigs from stony teeth, and soothing granite shoulders with patience, softened in the sea.

The waves laughed. The waves cried. That glorious living second, ending as wind, and sea, and earth: the waves laughed, and cried, calling me. I was falling, hard. I had to get a grip. I had to pull myself together. I needed my motorcycle.

‘I have to go home,’ I said.

‘Of course. I will come with you.’

‘Didier –’

‘Why do you always fight affection, Lin? It is truly your great, personal flaw.’

‘Didier –’

‘No. When a friend wants to do a loving thing, you must allow him. What is love, but this?’

What is love, but this?

The words chanted themselves to me in the taxi, and only stopped when we reached the apartment, and sat down with the nightwatchman to ask about Lisa.

He cried for her, and for what we were for him: always happy, kind and generous, on every festival and name day.

When he calmed down, he told me that Lisa had returned around an hour after midnight, with two men in a black limousine.

One of the men returned to the car, after fifteen minutes or so, and drove away. The other man left about an hour later. Karla arrived a few minutes after, and called the watchman.

‘Did you know the men?’

‘No, sir.’

‘What did they look like?’

‘One was a foreigner. He was the first one to leave. He had a loud voice. He was walking with two sticks, and he was shouting in pain, like maybe he had a broken leg.’

‘Or maybe two fresh bullet wounds in the leg,’ Didier observed.

‘Concannon. And the other man?’

‘I never saw his face. He looked away from me, and he covered his mouth with a handkerchief, coming and going.’

‘Did he have a car?’

‘No, sir. He walked away, very fast, in the direction of Navy Club.’

‘Did you get the number of the car?’

‘Yes, sir.’