Missing

by Mian Mohsin Zia

  To whom do You leave me?

  To a distant person who receives me with hostility?

  Or to an enemy, You have given power over me?

  As long as you are not displeased with me,

  I do not care what I face.

  I would, however,

  be much happier with Your mercy.

  I seek refuge in the light of Your face, by which

  all darkness is dispelled and both this life and the life to come

  are put in their right course against incurring Your wrath

  or being the subject of Your anger.

  To You, I submit,

  until I earn Your pleasure.

  Everything is powerless without Your support.

  Z slips the paper back into his jeans pocket. He feels an emotional and spiritual connection. It’s the first time in his life that he’s ever had the opportunity and privilege to make this invocation in its entirety. It makes him feel content and eases his nerves.

  He takes the cell phone out of his pocket and turns it on. By the time it boots and switches on, something strikes his mind that makes him connect the dots for fixing the fox. At the maximum point of danger is the minimum point of fear, he realizes, while noticing notifications about deleting old messages from his voicemail inbox in order to free up space for new ones.

  He’s still mulling over his realization when to his utmost surprise, it rings, showing a private number. He immediately answers, “Hello!”

  “Howard here. Now that you’ve switched on the cell phone, we have it on surveillance but won’t arrest you until you’ve had a go at your target and proved what you’ve told us. Do note that you’re being watched, and well taken care of. Don’t let us down, Z! We’ve facilitated you, got you everything you asked for, and set the stage for you. Now, it’s all up to you. Go well! God bless America!”

  “Will do! This time God will bless America and Pakistan as well,” Z ends the call, just before the announcement over the loudspeaker confirms that they’ve arrived at the Lahore Railway Station.

  *******

  May 2007 – Faisal Town, B-Block, Lahore, Punjab, Pakistan

  The sun has already set when Z walks up the stairs to the guesthouse in Faisal Town B Block Main Market near Kotha Pind Graveyard. Coming here was planned with Howard during their conversations via the payphones at stations between Karachi and Lahore.

  He can see the Main Market from the staircase and notices other buildings around it, as he stands outside its black, main door on the second floor. The building has shops on the ground floor and the rooftop on the third floor.

  Before entering, Z recalls what Howard told him over the phone.

  Inside, he can see the reception to his left with a woman sitting and talking on the landline. She continues holding the phone in her left hand as she looks at Z, who asks, “Room Number 7?” She indicates the corridor with its numbered rooms.

  He walks past three pairs of rooms on the left and right to room number 7 at the end. Z knocks, turns the door handle, and enters to find another narrow passage leading to the bedroom. As Z walks through this passageway, he can see a woman sitting on a rocking chair. Her hair and arms are visible as she’s facing the window with her back toward him.

  “Welcome, I’ve been waiting for you. Please put the cash on the bed,” she says as she stands up and turns around. She’s wearing a silky red robe.

  “Saying goodbye to Mr. Z is not that easy, Alisha,” Z announces as he looks straight into her eyes, recognizing both them and the face he saw when he was shot on the train.

  “It’s amazingly amazing you survived and even dared to return! But this time, have no doubt, you won’t survive,” she says in shock, but trying her best not to panic.

  “Well, you know — and I know — that you’re not Madame. Listen. I’ve neither the time to tell my tale nor the time to waste. Just lemme know where Madame is. Call her, and I’ll let you go. Otherwise, I can fix you in this room, and no one will ever know where you’ve gone,” Z tells her.

  He notices two windows on the left with two chairs at a table, a small fridge, and a window behind Alisha. A bed, its pair of night tables, and a painting on the wall are to the right.

  “Well, to be clear, I don’t know who Madame is or where she is. She plans and operates. We do nothing. Be aware of where you’re standing right now and weigh your words— ”

  Before Alisha can continue her cell phone on the bed rings. She takes a step toward it to get it, but Z stops her by taking his gun out and pointing it at her.

  “Hold it. No calls. Nobody’s going out, and nobody’s coming in until we’re done with this,” he explains, as the phone stops ringing.

  “As you wish.” She stands calmly with her hands on her waist. “So, shall we try something else that might change the mood?” she asks gently, as she touches the lace of her robe. A phone rings again, but this time it’s the landline on the night table to the left.

  “They’ll keep calling to ensure, the client has paid the cash, and if I don’t respond, they’ll come to check I’m safe and paid,” Alisha says, as she turns her back to Z and looks out the window. “That’s the protocol for an in-call. You’ve trapped yourself,” she laughs.

  Z looks at the landline ringing, and before he can decide what to do, it stops. He takes a couple of steps toward Alisha, but then, her cell phone on the bed rings again. Z says, “Answer the phone and tell them you’ve been paid.” He takes the money from his jeans pocket and throws it onto the bed next to her phone.

  She turns, looks at the money, and takes a few steps toward the bed to pick up her cell phone and answer it. “Hello!”

  Z can see her, but she says nothing more. In fact, she looks at Z and says, “It’s for you,” and holds out her cell phone to him.

  Z looks at the cell phone screen showing “private number.” He’s confused and surprised, but takes it saying, “Hello!”

  “Welcome, my boy! You are indeed a tough cookie. I believe we deserve to meet face-to-face! You won’t die and rest in peace until we meet! You’re in for a big surprise — a very, very big surprise. Hold your breath, because Madame is going to be right in front of you, face-to-face,” Madame says.

  “I’m waiting for you,” Z reciprocates. “When and where?”

  “Turn around. Your Madame is right here, right now,” Madame giggles.

  Z turns, as he senses someone’s shadow coming down the dark passageway toward the bedroom area. When he hears the giggle over the phone and sees the figure of Madame right in front of him, he’s utterly stupefied.

  He can’t believe his eyes or his ears.

  CHAPTER 16

  “I did say that you were in for a big surprise! Don’t hold your breath. Otherwise, you may need a doctor! These phones with Chinese technology and a voice-changer option can let you be whoever you want to be. I can be your Madame, and I can be Faisal, I mean to say, Honey — both — whenever I want.”

  Madame is speaking over the phone, but it’s Faisal standing in front of them to prove that it is Faisal and that nobody named Madame exists. He giggles at his masterstroke.

  Z and Alisha are both stunned.

  “We’ll both do well. Burn together in hell,” Faisal says in his voice.

  Startled, Z says, “Only Madame has said this to me. There was no Madame all along! It was you fooling me — and everyone — in the name of Madame. You spread the notion that someone named Madame existed, planned everything, and pulled all the strings!”

  “Yes! You’re right. Life’s a bitch. At school, everyone used to tell us kids to be smart and think big, but nobody taught us how. So, I always kept coming up with ways to be smart and think differently. And one day, after I returned to Pakistan and wanted to set up my empire, an idea struck which proved to be my stroke of genius.

  “Have you seen a circus where the clown plays around and fools the audience — but nobody knows who’s behind that mask? I had a set up along the same lines! I played around with ev
erybody, but nobody knew who was disguised by that voice.” In his brown trousers, green checkered blazer and white shirt, Faisal smirks broadly, as he slips his phone into the inner pocket of his blazer.

  “Come on, give me that gun. We both know you can’t shoot me until you get to know the answers to your questions, and most importantly, get to Lena,” Faisal says as he stretches out his hand toward Z, who hands him the gun. “Good boy,” Faisal says as he takes it and slips it into the waistband of his trousers.

  Faisal turns toward a window and continues. “Illusion can be fun, and nothing could be better than creating an identity that doesn’t exist, but still operates and maneuvers people at your will.” He slips both hands into his trouser pockets as he talks with his back toward Z and Alisha.

  “Why did you keep me alive and set me up for Joseph Best?” Z asks.

  “I’ll let you know everything because today’s your last day. You won’t die and rest in peace until I’ve answered you.”

  “Where’s Lena?” Z immediately asks, as he takes off his brown jacket and drapes it over his left arm.

  “Come,” Faisal says and takes him to the window where he points at the sky outside. “She’s not with me,” he giggles, as Z looks where he’s pointing and then realizes that Faisal’s playing a prank again.

  “I won’t repeat. Where is Lena?”

  Faisal says, “Let’s sit, and I’ll tell you everything.” They sit down on the chairs, while Alisha sits in the rocking chair.

  “Now tell me exactly why you did all of this to me,” Z demands. He wants answers to all his questions.

  “Nothing personal, it’s just business. Many girls become part of this business, some at will, some out of misfortune. It’s a worldwide phenomenon. There are Chinese, Russians, Filipinas, and locals serving the clients in massage centers, guesthouses, and spas across the country. Take Dubai, for example — it’s become an entertainment hub where you can easily have access to the girl of your choice from any nationality. However, no one comes searching for someone because we leave no clues behind.”

  Faisal breaks off and looks at Alisha. “Alisha, don’t you have any manners, honey? We have some company. You should get us some drinks.”

  Alisha stands up and gets them each a cold drink from the fridge, keeps one for herself, and returns to her rocking chair.

  “When I got to know that you’d come searching for Lena, I knew I had to deal with you, but never guessed it would go this far. I thought I’d play around with you, befriend you, help you, take you some places, and when you’d found nothing — as you were supposed to — you’d get tired and just leave.” Faisal takes a sip of his cold drink, and Alisha does too, though Z continues listening.

  “But luck was on your side, and out of nowhere, you found Lena’s scarf. That was a shock to me as well. The only reason I stayed with you was to find out about that. The idea had been to keep you engaged in trying to prove Lena’s presence in the country — as there was no proof of her arrival or her existence — but rather than leaving it to the police, you proved it for us! But with Lena’s scarf, things got a bit trickier, and you became more persistent.” Faisal sips his drink again and suggests that Z does too, but Z refuses.

  “After that, getting rid of you became the priority, but how to do it was the key. We operate smoothly and don’t want anything to be exposed. Gambling, alcohol, prostitution —all of them run smoothly under the carpet, even though they’re all officially illegal here. We work in harmony and peace and don’t like crowds,” Faisal says as he steeples his fingers.

  “Your biggest advantage, which acted as a shield for you, is that you’re a foreign national. Had you been a local, you could have been fixed there and then. In your case, you’re a foreign national — an American, what’s more — who’d informed your embassy, so if something had happened to you, it could have created trouble at any level. But as they say, a stitch in time saves nine. I had to come up with an idea to get rid of this problem once and for all.” Faisal clears his throat and raises his bottle toward Alisha in a toast to his mastery. Alisha raises her bottle to Faisal in return, while Z just waits for him to continue.

  “You’re also a man of faith, which I believe is a major reason you got this far. You’re not like those who sell themselves for the sake of money or honey — like any other man, or my connections in the police, government, and private sector. These men want two things in life, either money or honey. That’s what their religion is. Faisal is the source of honey for all his contacts, which makes them very helpful, as they’re bound, now and then, to want the best honeybees in the town. And only Faisal can supply those. But even my contacts weren’t willing to take the risk of being exposed by fixing an American national in Pakistan. We had to find another way to fix this matter without any fuss.”

  Faisal frowns, but before he can continue, his phone rings. He takes it out of his pocket, cancels the call, and mutters, “Not now, not now.” A smile flits across Faisal’s face. “That was when Madame stepped up and entered the scene.”

  “Because I was aware of everything going on around you, I was always a couple of steps ahead of you. I knew how desperate you were to get to Lena and that you were bound to listen to me — which was in my favor. To set you up, I had to make you believe in Madame’s existence and that Lena was in Madame’s custody. When you asked me to go to the railway station with you, I knew what you had in your mind, but everything had been well-planned way ahead of time. For your reference, Alisha, with some other honeybees, was already returning from Peshawar to Lahore when we were at the railway station.”

  Before Faisal can continue, his phone rings again. He cancels the call, but this time switches the phone off as well. “If you recall, I told you there are university students, professionals from the banks and other sectors who work as escorts, so three honeybees along with Alisha were in the railcar booked for the university students visiting Lahore. Alisha had been visiting Peshawar for a booking. She was advised to travel with the three honeybees on her return, as those three honeybees were to be served in Lahore during the official university trip. As Madame, I chose Alisha and assigned her the task, because she’d already met you and recognized you.” Faisal grins, as he glances at Alisha.

  “The game plan was not to shame you, but to make you feel hopeless and helpless, which it did. The more you felt dependent on me, the more commanding and authoritative I was.”

  Faisal takes a sip from his bottle and realizes he’s finished it, so he puts it on the table and picks up Z’s untouched bottle instead. “Then came the big day to set you up and get rid of you. You were asked to shoot Joseph Best, a police officer on duty, and were then helped to escape. It seemed to you that you were being helped to get to Lena. You didn’t realize you were digging your own grave.” He slowly scans Z’s body from his feet up, stops at his face, makes eye-to-eye contact, and smirks.

  “The plan was to get rid of you in a way nobody would care about. If you shoot a government official on duty and then go missing, not even being an American will protect you. Alisha, accompanied by two policemen from our network, was instructed to have you shot — which she did — and have you pushed out of the train into the desert — which she did. Nobody could have found your body then, and you would have been considered guilty and missing in the eyes of the world. In that situation, no one else would have been blamed or held accountable.”

  “But I didn’t shoot Joseph Best!” Z insists.

  In response, Faisal takes out Z’s gun, points it at Alisha, and shoots her right in the middle of her forehead. Z is stunned. She dies on the spot, as her bottle falls, and she slumps on the rocking chair. “Another perfect shot! Bang on target once again!” Faisal says, taking another sip from his bottle. “Hope this shot answers your question.”

  Z looks at Alisha, dead, while Faisal carries on. “Except for you, she’s the only one who’s seen Madame. Joseph was supposed to die, as he was no longer of any use to me alive. Neither is Alisha
. God bless her. I hope she serves the angels well,” Faisal says with an upward glance.

  Faisal puts the gun back in his waistband, takes another sip of water, and continues. “Don’t worry, you won’t die until the story ends,” he assures Z with a giggle. “The moment I got to know that somebody booked Alisha for an in-call and was willing to pay any amount for her in particular — once the out-call was denied — I sensed something fishy. She already had another booking for an in-call with a regular client, but yours just popped up out of the blue. I had to see who was so insistent on being our special guest this evening.”

  “I see,” Z says, nodding his head.

  “You’ve made things easy for me! You killed Joseph, and now you’ve killed Alisha. I’ll kill you and call the police. You’ll be charged for the double murder, but this time with your dead body, you’ll no longer be missing. This chapter will close forever. Nobody will ever know about Lena, and I’ll be out of it. Perfect plan!” Faisal giggles, as he sees himself accomplishing everything the way he’d planned. “But don’t worry, before I shoot you, I’ll let you know about Lena,” he says, exuding mastery.

  “You must have noticed I didn’t make you ask anything. I acknowledged your hardship, told you everything, answered your questions, and cleared your doubts. One thing’s for sure — you don’t have a blood relationship with Lena. You’re a Muslim, and she’s a Christian. How can two ordinary people get big on Madame? There must be something extraordinary about this relationship between two ordinary people — something really extraordinary. Who is she to you? And why are you after her?” Faisal asks.

  “People like you won’t understand. Those whose religion is money never understand the worth of human relations. You can call her my daughter, or my sister, but do remember one thing — humanity is above and beyond anything and everything,” Z argues.

  “You’re such a fool! I feel sorry for people like you, who die for the sake of humanity,” Faisal sneers with contempt.

  “The world needs people like us to keep the spirit of humanity alive. Now tell me! Where is she?” Z demands.