The Demon Hunters (18 page)

It got a bit dry from then on, with
details on architecture and guesswork on the origins of Nagka. I
skipped to the last page and worked my way backward, jumping from
page to page, quickly scanning down each.

Problems with the natives bearers
arose, those Elizabeth called Boys. They seemed to esteem Nagka as
a holy place, yet at the same time were scared to be there,
particularly after dark. They were superstitious and believed
vengeful guardian spirits protected the city. They became
increasingly agitated as the weeks passed, claiming the spirits had
“taken possession” of some of the party, naming Nestor Carlin,
Matthew Trencham, and finally, Elizabeth.

During the night of their last day, as
they slept, the bearers tied up the members of the expedition,
carried them out of Nagka and planted their explosives throughout
the city. The explosives must have been old, or faulty, or got
damp, because only the main temple blew up. According to them,
Nagka’s evil inhabitants were inside at the time, as was Elizabeth.
They told Edward there was no hope for her. She died with her
consort, Dagka Shan, the king, the ruler of a demon
horde.

Again,
whew
!

Stadelmann pointed out that although
the natives spoke of spirits when the expedition first arrived in
Nagka, they later called them demons. He studied the engravings
smothering Nagka’s walls, and those common in other ancient Burmese
cities, and decided those in Nagka were unique. He admitted he
could be wrong, because the entire city was anomalous to
Burma.

But Hans Stadelmann’s book didn’t clue
me to the reason someone sent the journal to the agency. I hoped I
hadn’t wasted my time coming to Vegas.

I handed in the book and walked out
the library. Roasting in the heat, I stood on the curb, waving, and
eventually got a cab. I had it take me to the nearest restaurant.
Inside Wendy’s, I munched on a burger and read the rest of
Elizabeth’s journal.

“
A Sickness has Nester in
its grasp that much is obvious. She has a pallor and is lethargic
much of the day. At Night she seems to come awake and wanders Nagka
in the dark and I can not dissuade her.

“
Now Jimmy too has the
sickness. Like Nester he has lost interest in his work and the day
to day life of the Expedition. His deep tan is faded and he rarely
eats and has lost weight.

“
Today Nester invited me
to a picnic in the shade of Nagkas high wall. We sat on a jumble of
fallen lichen covered Masonry just outside the one entrance to the
city in deep dark shade cast by a jutting overhang like a huge
Porch. As Nester opened the Basket and laid the Cloth Jimmy came
out of the Gateway and joined us. Neither spoke to me. I went more
to humour Nester who was strangely insistent and anxious that I not
refuse the Invitation and the ensuing odd silence unnerved
me.

“
The Jungle is very close
to the Wall its boundary a mere twenty feet away. Gigantic fern
sprout ten feet high at the edges and Plants I can not identify
spread huge spatulate leaves which cast their own deep shade
mingling with the mangrove and rubber trees. Beneath such a Plant a
Man squatted. I saw a lightly tanned Face and dark dark Hair the
white of his Sarong and the whites of his Eyes and my Heart stopped
beating.

“
I pointed him out to
Nester and Jimmy. Nesters face wore a strangely gentle
smile.

“
I could not prevent
myself. I went slowly with my eyes glued to the Man beneath the
leaves. I waited for Nester or Jimmy to call out and warn me back
but they did not. When I looked back over my shoulder they were
sitting on the rubble watching me and smiling. Nester nodded as if
in encouragement.

“
As I neared the jungle
perimeter a strange idea came into my head. I knew the Man waited
just for me for clearly he was waiting. The closer I went the more
disbelieving of the idea I tried to be yet I became more positive I
was correct. My Legs felt weak and my Heart pounded so.

“
When finally I stood over
him I suddenly felt so wobbly I had to sit down. I whispered It is
you.

“
He stood up. He took my
Hand and led me into the Jungle. I did not think to refuse. I was
not afraid to be alone in the Jungle with a stranger who not only
was Male but also not British. I did not feel at all threatened not
by Him nor by the hostile Environment around us. Contrarily I felt
safe and extremely contented.

“
I spoke to him but he did
not reply. He did not know our Language but I imagined he liked the
sound of my Voice so I continued with my prattling.

“
A snarl sounded far too
near for my peace of mind. As if emerging from a pleasant dream
into reality I looked about. Jungle growth huge and threatening
crowded us. Large savage Beasts prowled nearby. What did I there.
How far had we gone. What time was it. He smiled and stroked one
finger down my Cheek and my Heart palpitated. I wanted to fall
against him and have his Arms hold and support me. Only by a
supreme effort did I hold my ground.

“
He turned and led me back
the way we had come. I realised we did not walk alone. Through
small breaks in the undergrowth I saw sleek forms and speckled fur
and rounded Ears and black velvet Noses.

“
He squeezed my hand and
smiled down on me. I was going to speak when his smile stilled. A
young Boy emerged from the undergrowth. He looked twelve or
thirteen years of age therefore not many years younger than I and
although his features resembled the young Man his Skin was paler
and his Hair fell in fat twisting yellow ropes to his shoulders.
Black outlined his Eyes of startlingly clear emerald and jade
powder tinged his lids. A red caste mark shone from his Forehead.
His Feet and Chest were bare but red and black embroidery and jet
beads made his loincloth a rich creation. He smiled at me and his
Teeth had been filed to points like those of the Indians of the
Amazon. I smiled back but then his Face fell. My companions Hand
tightened on my own and I glanced up to see a frown on his Face as
if he were not pleased to see the Boy. When I looked back the Boy
was gone. We walked again and I hurried to keep up with his long
now rapid strides.

“
Abruptly we stopped and I
found myself with my back against the wide bole of a Tree. He moved
closer and for the first time I became afraid. His gaze was so
penetrating I felt that he looked deep inside me. Elizabeth he said
inside my head. I opened my Mouth in astonishment and his Lips
swooped and fastened on my own. I drowned in my first kiss and it
seemed to suck the strength from my Body.

“
I can not tell even you
Dear Journal what transpired between us. What occurred was that
which only wedded Women or Wantons experience. If not for Daddys
voice calling through the Jungle I would have lost my Virtue and I
would have done so willingly.

“
Tonight I wonder if I
imagined the episode. Was I almost ravished and did I welcome that
ravishment. Or was it an erotic daylight dream. As I lay on my Cot
wondering and yearning Nester came to me. During an hour
alternating between questions and hurled recrimination Nester
refused to answer Daddy yet now she decided to speak. She told me I
was lucky

“
I have lost what little
respect I first bore Nester. The woman is after all just two years
my senior and quite incompetent as a Governess. When she told me
the young Man is Dagka Shan and is a King and I his chosen Consort
I told her she spoke nonsense. I told her she was ill and imagining
things. Her speech became erratic. She claimed His Subjects are all
around us and reminded me of the Boy in the Jungle although I do
not know how she knew of him. She called him Teo-Papek and said the
boy is Dagka Shans son and Heir. How ridiculous. He is much too
young to father a boy of that age. This I told Nester. She said you
do not know. You do not know in a maniacal manner and tittered into
her Hands. She told me I would understand soon.”

And that was it, the last page in the
book. The rest had been torn out, traces of ink on the ragged
edges.

Did Elizabeth tear out those last few
pages? Was she hiding something? Did she regret what she wrote, so
destroyed it? Or did she spoil the pages with messy handwriting?
Did another person rip out the pages?

I banked on Janine Hulme having family
records or family lore which could tell me more of Elizabeth and
the expedition. And if she didn’t, it wasn’t as if a return ticket
to Vegas and lunch at Wendy’s would go on the expense
account.

Come to think of it,
how
would
I pay
for the trip?

Chapter
Fifteen

“
You have a lovely
home.”

“
Thank you,” Janine Hulme
said. “Can I get you something to drink?”

Thank you thank you thank
you!
“I’d kill for a diet cola, if you have
one.”

Janine lived in a gated
community in southwestern Las Vegas near the Canyon Gate Country
Club, just eight miles from the Strip, and her home was indeed
lovely. From the front door, the passage led between a formal
dining room and a formal living room, both walled in
glass,
so I had an
unobstructed view of beautiful furniture and display cabinets.
Janine took me to her more casually furnished great room, decorated
in warm southwestern tones, with comfortable leather armchairs the
color of soft caramel.

She brought me a can of soda, a glass
of ice, and took a seat across from me. A large-boned woman with
straggling straw-colored hair, she wriggled in her seat to get
comfortable. I’d bet those straggling locks were a designer
Do.

“
Do you have the journal
with you?”

I stopped pouring the soda before it
fizzled over the rim of the glass and put the can on the coffee
table. I wanted to hang on to the journal for the time being, so I
tucked it between Janine’s low brick wall and a big rock just
inside her front yard. “It’s evidence in an ongoing case, so I’m
afraid we can’t release it yet, but I promise we will get it to
you.” I felt in my pocket for the page I’d scanned. “I did bring a
copy of one page.”

She practically snatched it from me
and held it a few inches from her face, peering at it myopically. I
picked up my glass and held it to my lips, waiting for the bubbles
to subside.

I managed to say, “Is it genuine?”
before I gave in to thirst and swigged a mouthful of
soda.

She tore her gaze from the piece of
paper. “This is Elizabeth’s handwriting.”

Not a forgery, then. “Is the journal
valuable?”

Janine laughed lightly.
“Only to a historian. Diaries from the Victorian era are not
uncommon. Ladies of Elizabeth’s social class produced meticulously
detailed accounts which included their day-to-day life, their
thoughts, emotions and ideas, as well as the national beliefs and
events of the times. Elizabeth’s journals are of great interest
to
me
, first
because she was my ancestor, second because she was a young English
lady traveling in foreign lands. She spent countless hours on the
ship to Rangoon, then on the long trek to Nagka, then
in
Nagka, with little to
do but put her observations down on paper.”

She smiled. “Did you find it
interesting?”

“
Once I got used to her
handwriting.”

I took another healthy slug.
Interesting? Boy, was she in for a surprise when she read the
journal. Would Elizabeth’s musings on sex between men and woman
shock or amuse Janine? And what would she make of the girl’s tryst
in the jungle and Nester’s mad declaration? Whatever. I’d make sure
she got the journal after I found who sent it, and why.

“
You won’t do anything to
the book, will you? I mean, your Forensics won’t damage
it.”

“
Oh, no. It’s safe in our
hands, Miss Hulme.” I took another sip. “If the journal is, as she
writes on the cover, a continuation of her observations, how many
did Elizabeth write?”

“
We think there were five
in all. The household accounts of the time show the commission of
five notebooks from a local book-maker. She ordered them with her
name printed on the cover, as was the custom. This doesn’t mean she
completed all five, but we are hopeful. We have the first volume in
which she records her departure from England and the ocean voyage.
You must have the second.”

“
We?”

“
My fiancé Robert.
Researching the Hulme expedition to Burma is something of a hobby
for us.”

“
I read Hans Stadelmann’s
book; is it true Elizabeth died in Nagka?”

“
We believe so. She
definitely didn’t return to England with the rest of the party, and
Edward was a changed man. He was in a psychiatric institution for
months. He did recover, and married again . . . and here I am,” she
said with a flourish of her hands.

My heart sank and I held back a
grimaced. Elizabeth had not written more journals.

The ice cubes slowly melted in the
glass. “It’s very sad, really. She was what, fifteen?”

Janine nodded. “But of course, in
those days she was a young lady, not a child. No doubt she would
have married soon after her return to England.”