The Mountain Shadow

We made our way inside and found Gemini George, dancing with Didier to music just loud enough to ruin a shout. Didier had a table cover over his head and was holding the edge in his teeth, as a woman might with her shawl.

‘Lin! Karla! Rescue me! I am watching an Englishman dance. I am in pain.’

‘French git,’ Gemini called back, laughing happily.

He was having, quite literally, the time of his life.

‘Come, Lin! Karla! Dance with me!’ Didier shouted.

‘I’m looking for Lisa!’ I called back. ‘Have you seen her?’

‘Not . . . recently,’ Didier replied, frowning questions of his own at me, then at Karla, then at me again. ‘That is to say . . . not . . . recently.’

Karla leaned in close to kiss him on the cheek. I kissed him on the other cheek.

‘Hey! I’m havin’ some of that!’ Gemini shouted, offering his cheek to Karla, who obliged with a kiss.

‘I’m so glad to see you both!’ Didier shouted.

‘Likewise! Got a minute, Didier?’

‘Certainly.’

I left Karla with Gemini, and followed Didier back into the hallway. We crossed the corridor stream on patches of bare carpet, stepping over flowing groups of people smoking, drinking, and laughing out their other selves.

Didier opened the door to one of the adjoining suites with a key and led me inside.

‘Some of these party people know no boundaries,’ he said, locking the door behind him.

The main room was well appointed, but untouched. There was a tray on the writing desk: brandy and two glasses. Didier gestured with the brandy bottle.

‘No, thanks. But I’ll smoke a joint with you, if you’ve got one.’

‘Lin!’ he gasped. ‘When have you ever known Didier not to have one?’

He poured himself a thumb of brandy, selected a slender joint from a polished brass cigarette case, lit it, and passed it to me. As I smoked, he raised his glass in a toast.

‘To battles lived,’ he said, drinking a sip.

‘How’s Lisa?’

‘She is very well. She is happy, I think.’

‘Where is she now?’

‘She stayed with me, until just a few hours ago,’ he replied, drinking the measure of brandy. ‘She said she was returning to your apartment.’

‘How bad was it, after Abdullah and I left?’

‘Well, I wouldn’t go back to Leopold’s for a while, even with my influence.’

My thoughts went back to the fight at Leopold’s, Concannon cracking the lead sap into the fallen Sikh head waiter.

‘Dhirendra took a beating. He’s a good man. How is he?’

‘He recuperates. Leopold’s is not the same without him, but we must go on.’

‘Anyone else get hurt?’

‘A few,’ he sighed.

‘What about the cops?’

‘Lightning Dilip rounded up all the witnesses who had any money, myself included, and fined us all.’

‘What about the street?’

‘From what I know, nobody’s talking about this. It died, in the newspapers, after the first day. I think . . . Karla used her influence with Ranjit to kill the story, as they say. And those who are not scared of the Sanjay Company are scared of the Scorpions. It is quiet now, but it cost Sanjay a lot of money, I am sure. A lot of people had to piss on this fire.’

‘I’m sorry you got dragged into this, Didier. And in Leopold’s, of all places. It’s sacred ground.’

‘Didier is never dragged,’ he sniffed, ‘even when he is unconscious. He freely marches, or he is transported.’

‘Still . . . ’

‘An American friend of mine has a saying, for occasions like this. It’s a mess, but we didn’t make it. Yes, it’s a mess, but Concannon made it happen. The question is, what are we going to do about it?’

‘Got any ideas?’

‘My first impulse is that we should kill him.’

‘I love you, Didier.’

‘I love you, too, Lin. So we will kill him, yes?’

‘No, that was a no. I’m travelling tomorrow. I’ll be away for a week, maybe a day or two more, and we’ll work this out somehow, when I get back. We’ll have to find a way without killing anybody, Didier.’

‘As solutions go,’ he mused, ‘killing is a winning hand. Anything less, at this point, is only bluff.’

‘Concannon’s a man. There must be a way to reach him.’

‘Through his chest,’ Didier observed. ‘With an axe. But I suppose you’re right. We should be aiming higher. The head, perhaps?’

‘I’ve spoken to him, I’ve listened to him. I met a dozen Concannons with a dozen different faces in prison. I’m not saying I like him. I’m saying that if he was born into a different life, Concannon could be an amazing man. In his own way, he already is an amazing man. There must be a way to reach him, and stop all of this.’

‘Men like Concannon don’t change, Lin,’ he said, letting out a gust of sighs. ‘And the proof is very simple. Did you change, when you went to prison? Did you change, when you joined the Company? In your true self, deep inside yourself, did you change? Are you not the man you always were?’

‘Didier –’