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“The chest you found?” Selma suggested.
“As I said, a guess,” replied Sam.
The night before, rather than returning to the hotel, Sam and Remi had walked south of the police station until they were out of view, then turned north and flagged a cab. Sam ordered the driver to meander around the city for ten minutes as he and Remi watched for signs of surveillance. They had little doubt the King twins intended to follow them, and they were giving them no time to set up.
Once certain they were not being followed, Sam ordered the driver to take them to a rental car agency on the southern outskirts of Kathmandu, where they hired a battered green Opel. An hour later they pulled into a motel parking lot a half mile from Chobar Gorge, where they left the car and walked the remaining distance.
Having memorized landmarks while being driven away by the police, they took less than an hour to find their exit tunnel. Their gear was still inside and apparently untouched.
“We’re sending it to you via FedEx,” Remi told Selma.
“If it is what King is after, better we get rid of it. Besides, Selma, you like puzzles; you’re going to love this one. Solve it, and we’ll buy you that fish for your tank . . . the, uh—”
“Aquarium, Mr. Fargo. A tank is something you put in a child’s bedroom. And the fish is a type of cichlid. Very rare. Very expensive. Its scientific name is—”
“In Latin, I’m sure,” Sam finished with a chuckle. “Open our Nepali puzzle box, and it’s yours.”
“You don’t need to bribe me, Mr. Fargo. This is part of my job.”
“Then call it an early birthday present,” Remi replied. She and Sam shared a smile: Selma did not enjoy celebrating birthdays, especially her own.
“By the way, I heard back from Rube,” Selma said, rapidly changing subjects. “He looked into Zhilan Hsu. He said she’s—and I quote—‘all but invisible.’ No driver’s license, no credit cards, no public records of any kind save one: her immigration record. According to it, she emigrated here on a work visa from Hong Kong in 1990 at the age of sixteen.”
“Let me guess,” Sam said. “Employed by King Oil.”
“Correct. But here’s the kicker. She was six months pregnant at the time. I’ve done the math. Her due date roughly coincides with the birth date of Russell and Marjorie.”
“It’s official,” Remi said. “I doubly don’t like Charlie King. He probably bought her.”
“A safe bet,” Sam agreed.
Selma asked, “What’s your next step?”
“Back to the university. We got a voice mail from Professor Kaalrami. She’s finished the translation of the Devanagari parchment—”
“Lowa,” Remi corrected. “She said it was written in Lowa.”
“Right. Lowa,” Sam replied. “With any luck, her colleague can shed some light on the tomb we found—or at least rule out a connection.”
“And what about Frank?”
“Assuming King’s behind his kidnapping, our only chance to get him back is leverage. If King thinks we have something he wants, we’ll be in a better position to bargain. Until then, we can only hope King is smart enough not to kill Frank.”
KATHMANDU UNIVERSITY
After making certain they were not being followed, Sam and Remi found a FedEx office and mailed the chest. It would take two days and six hundred dollars, the agent told them, but the package would be on a plane by early evening. A bargain, Sam and Remi decided, knowing the chest would be beyond Marjorie and Russell’s reach—provided it was, in fact, of interest to King. Anyway, they had neither the time nor the resources to devote to opening the chest. It was better off in the hands of Selma, Pete, and Wendy.
Sam and Remi reached the university campus shortly after one o’clock and found Professor Kaalrami in her office. After exchanging pleasantries, they settled around her conference table.
“This was challenging,” Professor Kaalrami began. “The translation took me nearly six hours.”
“We’re sorry it took so much of your time,” Remi replied.
“Nonsense. It was better than spending the evening watching television. I enjoyed the brain exercise. I have a written translation for you.” She slid a typewritten sheet of paper across the table to them. “I can confirm the essence of the document. It is a military decree ordering the evacuation of the ‘Theurang’ from the capital city of Lo Monthang, in the Kingdom of Mustang.”
“When?” asked Sam.
“The decree does not say,” said Professor Kaalrami. “The man we are going to meet after this—my colleague—may be better equipped to answer that. There may be some clue in the text that I missed.”
