Read The Number 8 Online

Authors: Joel Arcanjo

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #Crime, #Urban, #Suspense, #Espionage, #General

The Number 8 (20 page)

BOOK: The Number 8
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“Buzzkill,” Becki said, crossing her arms.

“Truth, Becks. Don’t go as the Joker, go as Jane.”

“Jane?” Becki asked.

“Tarzan,” Asmir said pointing at himself and grunting like a primitive man, “Jane,” he said pointing at her.

“Asmir, I’m not being your little side-kick. I’ll find a way to do the Joker.”

That was the end of the discussion. No one else had decided what they wanted to be yet. After that, the conversation fizzled out and each person went back to their room, one by one until it was just Dante and Marco. It was the first time they had been alone together and just like the others, Dante wanted to get to know him a bit better.

“Hey, Marco. We haven’t spoken much, but I’ve noticed that you’ve been nervous all this trip, what’s that about?”

Marco looked a bit taken aback by this.

“Err, well, it’s the first time I’ve been out of the UK for a very long time. I guess that must be it.”

“Maybe, but I get the feeling that this isn’t really your scene is it?”

“You’re right about that. Not that great with people but give me a computer or a maths problem and it would be a different story,” he jested.

Dante played along by giving him a little chuckle. It seemed to loosen him up a bit.

“So are you still in Uni?” Dante asked.

“Nearly finished actually. This trip was a present from my family for graduating. But between you and me, I’m pretty sure they won it in some competition online. Cheap bastards.”

“Nice of them to give it to you though.”

“Oh sure. One of them was going to come by themselves on a four-week bus trip around New Zealand with teenagers,” he said sarcastically.

“True,” Dante conceded. “So what are you going to do now?”

“Chemical Engineering.”

“Wow, lucrative. Always wanted to do that?” Dante asked, knowing the answer.

“Course not, I wanted what all young kids wanted. To be an astronaut or a football player. But things change and parents’ opinions start to mean everything.”

“So you don’t want to be an engineer?”

“Chemical engineer is the correct term. What we do is a little more impressive than tightening a screw here and there,” he said smugly.

Well, that’s very ignorant of someone as well educated as him
, Dante thought.

“So you told me that you needed a break before you started a new job. How do you like the trip so far?” Dante asked, subtly changing the subject.

“It’s been awesome. New Zealand is better than I ever imagined. The pristine lakes, the lush greenery and the rolling hills are just like in
The Lord of the Rings
. The people on the bus are pretty cool too,” he smiled.

“Shame about Viktor’s accident though. Did you get a chance to speak to him?”

“What? No. Why are you asking?” he stuttered, a little thrown by the question.

“Um, just wanted to know what you thought of him. I wasn’t a fan, but then again, don’t speak ill of the dead and all that.”

Marco was silent and staring past Dante and out of the window.

“Are you OK?” Dante asked, concerned that he had said something he shouldn’t.

This snapped Marco out of his trancelike state.

“Er, yeah, yeah fine,” he said unconvinced of his own words.

“Did you and Viktor have history?”

“Um, I need to go, Dante. Early morning. But it was good chatting to you. See you tomorrow?” he said, his question obviously rhetorical.

Marco marched out of the room, his eyes glazed over, like he was in a different place. He slammed the door behind him, not out of anger, but because he was not paying attention to what he was doing.

Dante got up and washed the rest of the dishes before heading back to his room. Asmir had gone about fifteen minutes earlier and would still be awake. Sure enough, he was sitting on his bed, typing away on his phone.

“D, good timing. Check this girl’s Instagram. What is she doing?!” he said, without looking up.

“Az, we have a problem.”

“We don’t have a problem, she has a problem. Look at that sunburn!” he said, thrusting his phone into Dante’s face.

“This is serious, Az… Oh wow,” he said, distracted by the picture. “Did she just forget that she had the complexion of skimmed milk?” She looked like a freshly cooked lobster.

“Right?! And if that happened to you, why would you ever post it online for people to witness your stupidity?”

Dante remembered what he had been about to say.

“Az. We really do have a problem.”

“You said that already. What is it?” he said, frustrated that he had to look up from his phone.

“We have a new suspect.”

Chapter 37

“This should be good. Who?” Asmir asked putting his phone down on the bed.

“Marco.”

“What? That timid guy we just spent the evening with? He must have said fewer than ten words all night, D. Do you really think he has the guts or the strength to have killed Viktor?”

“He was in the first group. He had the opportunity. But more importantly, I think they knew each other before they got on this bus.”

Asmir sat up. That had got his attention.

“Did he tell you that?”

“No, it’s more what he didn’t say. I asked him about it and he spooked and bolted out the room.”

“You think they were friends back home?”

“No idea. It doesn’t seem that way to me. He looked upset when I mentioned his death, but also…relieved. It was weird. Whatever it is, it’s clear he is no expert at hiding his past like the two girls are. A couple more conversations and I’ll have what I need.”

“Ah. I thought we had forgotten about this, D. We were having so much fun. Can’t we just try to enjoy ourselves?” Asmir whined, falling back and stretching out on his bed.

“We agreed…”

“I know what we agreed,” Asmir interrupted, “but I don’t want to spend the rest of my holiday searching for clues and digging up people’s past. I want to drink, have fun and take some incredible memories home with me, preferably in the form of photographs.”

“We’re doing that too, Az. But we have a duty to Viktor to…”

Asmir sat bolt upright. “But why? Why do we have a duty to Viktor? He was a horrible bastard, with no family and one friend. Yes, I’m sorry that he died but we owe him nothing,D. Nothing!”

At first Dante thought his best friend was joking, but when he saw that Asmir had clenched his jaw tight, was fidgeting with his watch and was avoiding eye contact completely, he knew Asmir was serious. It was his tell. To most, he allowed his anger to well up and erupt naturally. It was different with those he cared for. He tried to quell his rage, but it was also the fact that he didn’t like confrontation with his loved ones. He was good at apologies, but he tried to avoid situations where one would be necessary.

Dante was sure he didn’t mean what he was saying, but he played along.

“Az. You do what you need to, but I’m not letting this go. For the record, I agree with everything you just said, but I’m not OK with knowing about a murder and doing nothing to stop a second or third.”

Asmir looked at him as if he knew he was wrong, but said nothing. Instead he turned over and pretended to sleep.

Dante was on his own for now.

The next day they all went to get their costumes from the nearby town. Asmir had been right, trying to get a decent costume wasn’t going to be easy and being original was going to be harder still. The store had pre-packaged costumes, but they were generic ones like a pirate, nurse and, luckily for Asmir, Tarzan. But a female Joker was proving more challenging. Becki had the waistcoat and jacket. They were not the right colors, but they were bright enough for it not to matter. It was the face painting that had to be right. Annie had been recruited to help her friend. After all, they were in fashion. If they couldn’t make a simple costume, they had no business being in that industry.

The reached Lake Mahinapua and the Poo Pub early in the afternoon and found their rooms. They had travelled down the famous Highway Six, stopping along the coast for photo opportunities and sightseeing. But, as often was the case at this time of year, it rained heavily. Their whole journey was a washout, and they even skipped the customary trip to visit the lake before settling into their hostel. But, it wasn’t the weather or Highway Six that was being talked about. It was the fancy dress party that was going down that night.

Three hours later and they were ready. Tarzan, the Joker, Zeus (Dante) and Jasmine from
Aladdin
(Annie) were heading to the party together. An unlikely group, but they looked good. Dante’s was by far the easiest. It took him all of five minutes to construct it. It was one white sheet artistically draped over his shoulders and a crown made from twigs, leaves and gold spray paint that he had borrowed from Carl who was going as a wrestler named Goldust. The whole process had been painful to watch for Dante who had to wait around for the others to decide when they were ready. Asmir’s Tarzan costume was so simple to put on, or rather take off, yet, out of everyone, he took the longest. But at least they were out and heading to the party.

The next morning Dante woke up with a start. His heart was beating hard in his chest and his head was throbbing. He looked around. He was in his own bed. No one was with him and nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Which made him think that something was very, very wrong. He had no memory of the night at all.

Two times in a week, Dante, really?
he thought to himself.

But this was very different. He knew for a fact that he had only had two drinks that night because that’s all the money he had allowed himself. Of course, somebody could have bought him drinks, but not enough for him to be blackout drunk. The last memory he had was of playing pool in the bar. But that had only been about thirty minutes after they had arrived. He was so confused he didn’t even know how to react, because he had no idea what he had done. But he needed to find out.

He looked to the bed next to him. Asmir was curled up in a ball, still in his Tarzan outfit.

Dante rushed over to him, his heart still pounding. His crown was gone, but the sheet was still on him, albeit completely tangled around his neck.

“Az. Wake up! What happened last night?” Dante said as he shook Asmir awake.

“Shhhhh… Not so loud, D. My head feels like… Never mind.”

“Do you remember anything?” Dante asked again.

Asmir struggled to push himself to a sitting position. He stared at Dante like he wanted to kill him and bury him somewhere that no one would ever find.

“No, I do
not
remember anything,” he said putting extra venom into the word ‘not’.

“Doesn’t that worry you?”

“Not in the slightest. In fact, and I’m pretty sure I’ve told you this before, it means we had a pretty awesome night.”

“Just tell me the last thing you remember.”

Asmir thought about it, all the while rubbing his forehead lightly.

“Weird. It must have been really early in the party because I still hadn’t busted out my Tarzan howl.”

“And think. How much do you remember drinking before it goes blank?”

“Maybe two or three drinks.”

“Yes exactly! Since when do we get drunk on two or three drinks, Az?” It was a rhetorical question, but Asmir answered it anyway.

“Never.”

“OK, now this is important Az. What is the very last thing you remember?”

Asmir thought again, massaging slowing, until it stopped completely. He raised his head, his eyes wider now, frightened, like a deer in the headlights.

“I was talking to someone…”

“Say it! Who were you talking to?”

“D, it was Marco. I was talking to Marco.”

“Yes!” Dante said, jumping to his feet and pointing at Asmir. “That’s the last thing I remember.”

“Wait…so what does this mean?”

“Pretty clear to me, mate. We were drugged.”

Chapter 38

“Drugged? You think Marco drugged us?” Asmir responded.

“Look at the facts here. We both drank very little and neither of us are particularly lightweight when it comes to drinking…”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that. You’re…” Asmir interrupted, only to be stopped by Dante.

“Just…OK? I’m not ‘two drinks and gone’ bad.”

Asmir nodded. He was clearly a little freaked out by what he was learning.

“Before you ask, I think he drugged us to find out what we knew about Viktor. The cave, the stuff from Viktor’s past that James told us and even what we knew about Viktor and Marco’s relationship.”

“But why? He has no reason to believe that we know anything.”

Dante thought back to the conversation he had had with Marco the previous night.

“Dammit, it’s my fault,” Dante admitted.

“Why?”

“I asked him questions about Viktor the other night. It obviously tipped him off. He didn’t want to be found out and drugged us to find out what we knew.”

“OK, almost makes sense, but why are we still alive?” Asmir asked and it was a fair point.

“Maybe we don’t know enough. Because we don’t really. We have no working theory and only my word that Viktor’s death was anything but a tragic accident. We have no proof and he knows that any accusations we make will be refuted by the other passengers who know him as a quiet, timid book-worm who would only harm a fly if it was blocking the maths problem on his page.”

“True, killing us would definitely not be beneficial to him, especially if he’s looking to kill someone else on this bus.”

“Az, are you…”

“Yes, I’m back in. I was never out. I was just hoping that this holiday would be more heaven than hell. Guess I was wrong. Let’s get this bastard. Unbelievable. What kind of sicko drugs somebody during a perfectly good fancy dress party?”

“That’s an easy one. Someone who is trying to get away with murder.”

On the way to Franz Josef the next day, the bus was quiet, not for any reason other than it was early and most of them had hangovers and those that didn’t were sleeping. The route took them further down Highway Six and in and out of the Abel Tasman National Park. The views, as they had been the entire trip, were breathtaking. Unlike the previous day when Highway Six had followed the coast all the way down the west side of the South Island, it cut inside and sliced through the fields and lowlands of the area. It was only towards the end of the journey they began to see the light blue water trickling down from the glacier and the mountains which held it.

BOOK: The Number 8
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