Read The Informationist: A Thriller Online
Authors: Taylor Stevens
The Informationist: A Thriller (3 page)
When she’d received the unusual job offer that would require interrupting her studies in order to make a trip to Morocco, Breeden was the one she’d gone to for advice.
Breeden now owned a successful marketing consulting firm and practiced law on the side for a few select clients. She was Munroe’s buffer between everyday life and life on assignment. In the months and sometimes years that Munroe was out of the country, Breeden paid the bills, kept the accounts open, and forwarded pressing matters. Breeden was warm and friendly and absolutely ruthless. She’d screw a person over with a polite smile—cozy up and bury them alive—and for that reason Breeden was an ally: She was safe.
Breeden was a bottle-dyed blonde with shoulder-length hair and heavy bangs that flattered almond-shaped eyes. Munroe found her at a corner table looking over a stack of paperwork and sipping red wine. Breeden made eye contact, rose with an enormous smile, and grasped Munroe’s hands warmly. “Michael,” she said with trademark breathlessness, “you look so well. Turkey was good to you!”
“The Four Seasons did this to me,” Munroe said, taking a seat, “but I did love Turkey.”
“Have you completely wrapped that one up?”
“A few minor details and then I’ll be finished.” Munroe dug into a roll, spread the butter on thickly, and then politely motioned for the documents.
Breeden passed them across the table. After a few minutes of flipping through pages, Munroe said, “This doesn’t seem like something I’d handle.” She smiled. “Is that what you meant by ‘exception’?”
“It’s the easy money,” Breeden said. Munroe paused, and Breeden continued. “When Burbank’s daughter disappeared in Africa about four
years ago, he hired the best international investigators and, when that proved futile, mercenaries. So far, nothing.”
“Why come to me?”
“He’s seen your work, says this is just another form of information.”
“It could be.” Munroe shrugged. “But that’s money hard earned, nothing easy about it.”
“When I got the call, I spoke with Burbank himself—no middlemen or corporate strategists. He’s offering that hundred thousand just for the meeting, regardless of your answer. He wants to present the case to you personally.”
Munroe let out a low whistle.
“I did explain that he was probably wasting both his time and his money. But there are worse ways to earn a hundred grand than overlooking the Houston skyline for a day.”
Munroe pressed her thumb to the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I really don’t know, Kate. Once I hear the details, I might want to take it, and we both know that whether I wish it or not, I need a break …” Her voice trailed off.
“I’ll call Burbank in the morning,” Breeden said. “I’ll let him know you’ve declined.”
Munroe’s eyes fell to the documents. “I haven’t declined yet,” she said. “I made the trip, didn’t I?” She reached for the papers and thumbed through them again. “Is this everything?”
“Officially, yes.”
“Have you read it all?”
“Yes.”
“What about unofficially?”
“In the dossiers are personal bits and pieces centering on Elizabeth Burbank. It seems that at or around the same time the first teams were setting out to track down Emily, she had a nervous breakdown and had to be hospitalized. She was in and out of retreats for a year before she passed away. Suicide.”
Breeden took a sip of water. “For the family it was fortune followed by tragedy. Less than two months before Elizabeth’s death, Burbank’s drilling venture off the coast of West Africa struck oil and the stock in
his company went through the ceiling. He became an overnight multimillionaire and since then, through careful investment of capital, has become a billionaire several times over.”
She paused, and Munroe motioned for her to continue.
“Prior to this the family wasn’t hurting by any means. Richard Burbank had done well in life through high-risk enterprises that paid off, and he also married well both times. Elizabeth came from old money, ran with the Houston elite, so it’s safe to say that they were already well-off before the oil windfall. Elizabeth was Richard’s second marriage—Emily, the girl who’s missing, is Elizabeth’s daughter from a previous marriage. Richard legally adopted her when she was seventeen. It was right around their ten-year anniversary. He and Elizabeth held a recommitment ceremony, and he let Emily choose a charity for a big donation in their honor.”
The waiter approached with the meal, and Breeden stopped. Munroe flicked the napkin over her lap and inhaled the aroma coming off her plate. “So,” she said, “he’s a philanthropist. What else? What’s he like as a person?”
“It’s hard to say,” Breeden replied. “My impression while on the phone is that he’s no-nonsense, he gets what he wants. There isn’t a lot of press coverage on him prior to the oil discovery. His company, Titan Exploration, has been publicly traded for almost seven years, but there’s little mention of Burbank other than to point out that he’s the founder and a major stockholder. He seems to be somewhat camera shy.”
Munroe nodded and chewed. She cleared her throat. “For a hundred grand, I’ll listen to what he has to say. But make sure he knows that I’m coming for the money and out of pure curiosity.”
“I believe he’ll want to see you as soon as possible.”
“Try to arrange it a few days from now—give me some time to catch my breath.”
“How are things this time around?” Breeden asked.
“Hasn’t changed much. I deal.” Munroe put down the knife and fork. Discussing the insanity inside her head was out of the question; it was a private hell best lived alone. “I’m fine,” she said.
Breeden pulled out a cell phone. “Before I forget.” She handed it to Munroe. “So I don’t have to hunt you down. Number’s on the back,
charger’s in the briefcase. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got the appointment sorted out.”
The meal over, Munroe returned to her room, disassembled the file, glanced through the pages, and at some point in the middle became intrigued. When she found herself losing track of time, she set the alarm clock and went back to the beginning, starting with the summary from the official files.
Whoever had written this document described the Africa that she knew well and had long given up trying to forget. Munroe became lost in the pages until the alarm buzzed a reminder that something needed attention.
Noah Johnson
.
He would be the distraction du jour, the assignment of the night. She shuffled the papers into a semblance of order and tossed them on the desk. She leaned her head back, closed her eyes, and pulled in a deep breath, followed it with several more—a shift from one work mode into the next.
She found him at the bar, staring into his drink. Even from a distance, he was beautiful, and if he hadn’t been so immersed in his own thoughts, he might have noticed the glances from several women nearby. Munroe sat at the opposite end of the bar, ordered a drink, and requested that a second of what he was having be taken to him.
When the glass arrived, he looked up and then in her direction as the bartender pointed her way. She leaned beyond the couple blocking his view and gave a slight wave. He smiled, picked up the glass, and walked toward her.
“Bonsoir,”
he said, and seated himself on the adjacent stool, then raised his glass in thanks.
Experience predicated that he, like most men after a few drinks and faced with a beautiful woman showing interest, would be unable to help himself. Getting him into bed was beside the point; the challenge was in possession, to crawl inside his head so deeply that he wouldn’t want her out.
She replied in French and in the small talk listened for his personality, filtering options through his answers. When the pieces became a composite whole, she would shift into characteristics that would most easily enchant—whatever the particular role necessitated in order to acquire the end goal. Bimbo, coquette, siren—name it and become it.
His answers were unexpected and made her laugh, not the laugh of an actress but one that was genuine, real. And that he carried his own streak of adrenaline hunger didn’t hurt.
Discovering that work had taken her to Morocco, he flashed a teasing smile and switched from French to Arabic:
“Hal tatakalam al-Arabia?”
She grinned and whispered,
“Tabaan.”
Their conversation undulated, it swelled and lingered. His personality was beyond what she’d anticipated—closer to her own than any distraction she’d yet sought out. Perhaps this hunt would be the easiest of all. No games, no roles, just a sanitized version of who she really was.
Desiring more privacy than the bar and lounge provided, Munroe said, “You want to find the Jacuzzi with me?”
“I’d love to,” he said, “but I don’t have a bathing suit.”
She moved closer to his ear. “Neither do I, but if you wear your underwear and act like you own the place, nobody will ever notice.”
He laughed, a deep, hearty laugh, spontaneous and alive. He gulped down the remainder of his drink and placed the glass on the bar counter. “I think I like you, Lady Munroe.” He stood. “Where is this Jacuzzi?”
The hot tub was situated in an alcove away from the main pool, and when they’d found it, Munroe shed her clothes and slid into the foaming water. Noah studied her for a moment and then, without breaking eye contact, draped his shirt over a nearby pool chair and slid in beside her. “These,” he said, tracing his finger along one of the many white slivers etched into her body. “Are the scars also part of your job?”
She began to say something, then hesitated and stopped. “Those,” she said finally, “are a story for another time.” It wasn’t the usual bullshit about car accidents and glass, and it avoided a truth she had no desire to relive.
T
O:
Katherine Breeden
F
ROM:
Miles Bradford
S
UBJECT:
Emily Burbank—Disappearance/Investigation
Ms. Breeden:
On behalf of Richard Burbank and for the purpose of review by your client Michael Munroe, I am sending the complete collection of documents related to Emily Burbank’s disappearance
.
In addition to the summaries that follow below, attached are six PDF files that include copies of all communication from Ms. Burbank prior to her disappearance, government records and documents, as well as reports and transcripts (including translations) from private investigations, in total 238 pages
.
Sincerely
,
Miles Bradford Capstone
Security Consulting
BACKGROUND SUMMARY
Namibia: Wild, vast, spectacularly beautiful, and home to some of Africa’s best animal preserves. It is sparsely populated, outlined by the Namib Desert on the Atlantic coast and the Kalahari Desert on the eastern border. The country is, by African standards, safe and modern, the government stable, and the infrastructure solid. It is not the first place on the continent to come to mind when a foreigner disappears, but an Internet café in the capital of Windhoek became Emily Burbank’s last known place of contact.
Nearly five months separated Emily’s arrival in Africa from her disappearance. The journey began in South Africa as an overland safari. The tour by open-air truck lasted thirty days and passed through six countries on its way through the south and east of Africa, ending in Nairobi, Kenya.
Originally scheduled to return to Johannesburg by air, Emily remained in East Africa with two men from the overland tour, Kristof Berger (German, later determined to be 22 years of age) and Mel Shore (Australian, 31). Of this decision, Emily wrote, “We want to skip the game parks and visit towns and villages off the beaten trail and, if we can, spend time living with the local population in some of the rural areas we’ve already passed through. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. Kris and Mel are great, and we keep an eye out for each other.” (See addendum for original copy.)
Two months separated this e-mail from the next contact, which came by way of a phone call out of Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. There is no record of this conversation; it was later relayed by Elizabeth Burbank. The trio still traveled together, the lapse in communication due to their having spent over a month living in a Masai village outside of the Serengeti, where they had been without electricity and the closest telephone over a day’s walk away. That stay had ended when Emily developed a fever and her traveling companions took her to a Catholic mission for malaria treatment. At the time of the call, Emily had fully recovered and the trio was about to begin the overland return to Johannesburg.
E-mail from Emily arrived at regular intervals: Lusaka, Livingstone, Gaborone, and finally Johannesburg, each a brief note providing detail on location and the next segment of travel.
Several days before her scheduled return to the United States, Emily gave notice of her decision to remain in Africa for an additional two months. Her plans would then route her through Europe, where she would spend a few weeks traveling the Balkans with Kristof before returning home.
In communications that followed, Elizabeth agreed to send Emily money for Europe if her time in Africa was limited to one month and, upon receiving Emily’s consent, wired four thousand dollars.
Emily wrote from Windhoek a week later. Together with a small amount of descriptive detail on the trip and the promise to notify her family as soon as she knew where they would go next, Emily provided Kristof Berger’s address in Langen, Germany, requesting that her mother post a few items so that they would be waiting when she arrived.
This was the last communication received from Emily Burbank.
When Emily did not contact her family and failed to return home on the established date, the Burbanks contacted South African Airways in an attempt to discover if Emily had departed Africa for Europe. The airline had no record of Emily’s boarding the flight out of Johannesburg or the connecting flight in Europe and, citing security factors, was unable to provide information on either Kristof Berger or Mel Shore. The Burbanks filed a missing-persons report with their local police department and contacted the Department of State.
INVESTIGATIONS SUMMARY
From the onset it has been understood that the chances of locating Emily are slim. Emily had set a precedent for traveling to remote areas, and although it is assumed that she would have notified her family before leaving Namibia, it is not certain; therefore the actual location of her disappearance is open to speculation. Additionally, little is known about her traveling companions and the relationship among the three. Permutations are many, and the investigations that followed centered not only on locating Emily but also on locating the men who traveled with her.
Phase One:
The initial phase of the investigation branched immediately in three directions.
Namibia: The U.S. Department of State, the U.S. embassy in Windhoek, and local law enforcement worked jointly to trace the movements of the trio throughout the capital. After outlining three days of stay, the trail ended cold. Beyond being able to ascertain that Emily Burbank and her traveling companions had indeed been in the capital, no additional information was forthcoming. From this first phase, the following is worth noting:
At the hostel in which they stayed, the proprietor heard them discussing Luanda (Angola), and at a restaurant the trio frequented, a waiter recalled Kristof Berger inquiring extensively about the Caprivi Strip and road conditions to Ruacana on the border of Angola. Another waiter said he had heard them discuss Libreville (Gabon).
Kristof Berger: Using the address Emily provided, a second team was sent to Germany to locate Kristof Berger’s mother. When shown photos of Emily, the woman denied having seen her, and when the line of questioning turned to Kristof, she terminated the conversation.
Working through the Langen Rathaus, the team was able to confirm that Kristof had returned to Germany, and it is worth noting that the date of Kristof’s return to Europe does not coincide with the flight details Emily provided her parents. Repeated attempts to locate him proved futile.
Mel Shore: Emily’s letters home had provided only scattered pieces of information about Mel Shore, and through these his name, age, and nationality are assumed. Beyond this, little is known of the man, and all attempts to locate his city of origin or family members have failed.
Phase Two:
Local law enforcement worked to establish a basis for Emily Burbank’s remaining in or leaving Namibia. The only intra-African airlines flying out of Windhoek that retained searchable records were South African Airways and Air Namibia, neither of which held any listing of Emily. That the trio had caught a bush plane or traveled out of Namibia by road could not be ruled out.
Based on information provided in phase one, the investigation transferred to Ruacana and then to the cities through the Caprivi Strip, a
narrow stretch of lush land sandwiched between Botswana and Zambia. The investigators were not able to locate anyone who recalled the young travelers.
All indications pointed to the group’s having left Namibia, but no record of their having done so existed. At this phase active searching within Namibia stopped.
Phase Three:
The Burbank family sent a team of lawyers to the U.S. embassies in Luanda, Pretoria, and Gaborone. Similar visits to the German and Australian embassies were made on the chance that information on Kristof Berger and Mel Shore could be garnered. The embassies had received no reports of missing citizens and were unable to help.
Phases one through three lasted the better part of eight months and concluded when no definitive information on Emily Burbank or either of her two traveling companions could be unearthed.
Phase Four:
Roughly a year after Emily’s disappearance, the package that Elizabeth Burbank had mailed to Emily in care of Kristof at his address was received back in Houston, unopened, marked “return to sender.” Once again a team was dispatched to Europe, and Kristof was eventually located at Klinik Hohe Mark. Chronologically, Kristof’s first admission appears to be shortly after his return from Africa. Medical records show that he suffered a mental breakdown, initially responded well to treatment, and was released after six months. He was returned that same month and has since been a permanent resident.
The investigative team was able to speak with him, but he wasn’t lucid and what responses he gave had no bearing on the conversation or the questions asked of him. Transcripts and translations are included in the supporting documents.
Unable to learn anything from Kristof, the team once again attempted to speak with Frau Berger. Offered a substantial sum of money, the woman agreed to listen to their questions. When again shown photographs of Emily Burbank, Frau Berger did not recognize her, nor could she provide details on where Kristof had been while in Africa or whom he had befriended while traveling. She merely confirmed the date
that Kirstof had returned and admitted to the date he had entered the institution.
Suspecting that Frau Berger knew more than she was revealing and seeing the state of the woman’s home, the investigating team offered an additional sum of money should she recall further details, and with that, Frau Berger again terminated the conversation.
Phase Five:
In Namibia, where the first and second phases ended, a group of former military personnel attempted to track Emily’s path out of the country. Over a four-month period, they reviewed exit records at every staffed land-border crossing in Namibia and spoke with every official available; given that they were generously dispersing “bonuses,” they also spoke with many who were not officials. In the end there was no record of Emily’s having left Namibia.
Phase Six:
In e-mails home and in conversations with Elizabeth Burbank, Emily had indicated plans to remain in Africa to travel through countries not yet visited. Geographically, the only direction the group could go to fulfill this plan would have been north.
No visas were issued to Emily or to either of her companions from the Angolan, Congolese, or Gabonese embassies in Windhoek. Visas for these countries could have been applied for elsewhere on the continent, or the trio, now familiar with the protocols of African border transit, may have attempted to purchase visas while border crossing.
Although Angola borders Namibia to the north, those who knew Emily had difficulty believing that she would enter the country. Entering Angola overland as a tourist was not considered possible at the time and is still inadvisable due to the decades of conflict. However, there was the possibility that the trio had flown to Luanda as a stop point to head farther north. Congo and Gabon also posed question marks, as they are expensive to travel to, in terms of the transportation costs as well as visas, food, and shelter.
Language was an additional consideration. Unlike South and East Africa, where English is widely spoken, along the west coast of Africa, French is the primary language. Emily did speak rudimentary French,
and it had by this point been confirmed through Kristof Berger’s school records that he, too, spoke French. Nothing is known about Mel Shore.
The search team split in three and traveled to Angola, Gabon, and Congo. As with the previous phases of the investigation, this venture ended with no additional information.