The Cloud Maker

Chapter 30

Zhu was waiting, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, when the soldiers bundled René back in.

Two of them then moved to either side of the door, guarding it, while the third bolted it shut from the outside. René was left standing by the wall, his large frame slumped as if the strings of a marionette had been cut. His jaw was already beginning to ache and he could feel his lip had split at one corner. There was the taste of blood in his mouth and a bruised imprint on his neck where the soldier’s hand had been.

‘Please, Mr Falkus, take a seat,’ Zhu said slowly, gesticulating to the other side of the cell where the chair remained on its side.

René hesitated. Taking a couple of paces forward, he righted it and gingerly lowered himself down.

‘She’s just a kid…’ he began in a hoarse whisper.

Zhu didn’t answer, but instead glanced at the two soldiers by the door and nodded for them to leave. When it had shut behind them, he smiled at René.

‘The gentlemen you’ve just met,’ he began, ‘are from a special division of the army that I have commandeered. For all that, I’m afraid they’re not exactly what we might call “refined”. I myself once had the privilege of being interrogated by them.’

Still smiling, he took his right arm from where it normally remained behind his back and started rolling up the long shirtsleeve.

‘Nothing more than country boys, bored and frustrated,’ he continued. ‘Having said that, they do perform their tasks with a certain… creativity.’

René stared at the hand Zhu was now resting on the table. It seemed completely normal, slender and pale like his other one, except for one difference. Where the nails on his left hand were neatly manicured into little white moons, the fingers on this one looked longer and somehow inhuman. René blinked, his mouth going dry. Each nail has been pulled out, one by one.

The fingers had obviously long since healed but the nails had never grown back, leaving stretched skin rounding the end of each finger. The skin was redder in colour and perfectly smooth, as if his hand were facing palm upward. Zhu began slowly drumming them on the table while René’s eyes darted from one finger to the next.

‘I believe Anu’s interrogation has only just begun,’ he continued. ‘So I suggest you start talking. It’s your choice, of course, but if you’re quick, I might even be able to intervene and put an end to the whole thing. Otherwise, who knows how long it will last or what else they will think of to do with her once they have had their fun?’

René looked up from Zhu’s hand, his jaw clenched.

‘Please,’ he said. ‘Just let her go and I’ll tell you everything.’

Zhu fished out a pen and notebook from the breast pocket of his jacket. ‘Then, let’s start.’

‘They’re just… a couple of kids,’ René stuttered. ‘They do these climbing expeditions all over the place. A few nights ago they turned up in my restaurant asking about permits to get down south. They’re trying to climb a mountain near the border called Makalu. That’s all they are — climbers.’

He was speaking with his hands outstretched in front of him, pleading for Zhu to believe him.

‘Climbers,’ he repeated.

René nodded, desperate. He had to get the captain to believe him. He had to get Anu’s interrogation to stop.

‘So where did your “climbers” leave the main road?’

‘I can’t remember exactly,’ René said, frantically trawling through his memory. ‘It was a little town south of Shigatse. I had some yaks waiting there to take them further into the mountains.’

‘Its name?’

‘What?’ he said, confused. Why was the captain pressing him so hard on such a small point? Surely he should be more concerned about where they were now? But he had to stop the soldiers. He had to think. Even now they might be…

‘Tingkye,’ he said suddenly, clicking his fingers. ‘That’s the place. Tingkye.’

Zhu nodded, his expression blank. Then he bent forward, scribbling a brief note in the pad.

‘What do these climbers look like?’

As René gave descriptions and explained what little else he knew about Bill and Luca, Zhu felt an inward surge of satisfaction. He had been right all along. These were the two foreigners the monk had been referring to at Drapchi. They had to be. With the mention of Tingkye as well, there was no way this could be a coincidence.

Nearly fifty years ago, a couple of British soldiers had helped the Dalai Lama escape into India, and now, it seemed, they were doing the same with this boy. They must have got to Tingkye before that idiot Chen and were now moving the child towards the border. They would be attempting to get him across the Himalayas into India.

As René droned on, Zhu thought quickly. He could have the borders tightened along the standard routes, but still, it was an impossible area to control. The Himalayas were just too vast. If they were climbers as this oaf said, they would be able to go almost anywhere. Climbers were the perfect choice for crossing a border unseen.

René finished speaking and the room fell silent. He sat rubbing the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, blood still trickling down from where his lip had split. Zhu shifted his weight forward and reached into his trouser pocket. He pulled out a white handkerchief, sliding it across the table.

‘That’s everything you know?’ he said, gesturing to the handkerchief.

René picked it up, dabbing at his face.

‘Everything. I promise. Now, for the love of God, please stop that interrogation.’

Without taking his eyes from his notepad, Zhu barked out a few orders in Mandarin. One of the guards from outside quickly unbolted the door and stepped inside. Zhu spoke fast, not once looking up as the man saluted and then withdrew.

‘Had you told me the truth originally, Mr Falkus, you could have spared her innocence,’ Zhu said quietly. ‘I am a reasonable person, but you must understand, I will get what I want.’

He stood up, collecting his cigarettes and lighter from the table. He signalled for the guard again then paused for a moment, looking down at René.

‘So that’s it? You’re going to look for them on Makalu?’ René asked, his face scarlet with anger and humiliation.

Zhu started to speak, then hesitated. There was something about the way Falkus had asked the question that wasn’t right. His tone had been belligerent when it should be broken. What if this disgusting Westerner was smarter than he looked and was sending Zhu on a wild goose chase, feeding him parts of the truth to whet his appetite? He stared down at René’s bloated frame, hunched over the plastic table. Zhu needed to be sure he wasn’t being played for a fool.

‘Pack some warm clothes, Mr Falkus,’ he ordered, moving towards the exit. ‘We leave tomorrow morning, first thing.’

‘What?’ René protested. ‘Where am I going? You said…’

Zhu didn’t look back at René as he walked through the door, his right hand slotted back into his pocket.

‘You’re going to show us where these climbers went, Mr Falkus. Personally.’

Without checking his stride, he set off down the corridor, letting the sound of René’s protests fade into the heavy concrete walls.