Also my parents, obviously.
I try searching for his house, and a website to visit the building comes up first.Apparently, it’s a museum now.But it’s not as in depth on the history of the house as I would hope.It goes in depth until Leo, and then just talks about his sister’s family.About a year after I was there she married a wealthy duke and they had three children.They were unfashionably in love and even age appropriate.Whatever happened after I left, at least Leo’s sister seemed to be happy.
After more research, I find that the house is owned by a private trust, called the Alston Hall Trust, but that’s not super helpful, as there isn’t that much information on it either.
“Ma’am?We’re back at the hotel,” the bus driver says.
I look up and finally notice that we’re stopped in front of the hotel, the lights of the bus on, and the door open.I have no idea how long he’s been sitting here waiting for me to notice and get out.
“Sorry.Thank you.”I rush out of the bus, anxious to get my laptop and its research opportunities.Maybe I can make an appointment with the trust of Leo’s house to see the records, if they have any.Or they could be in the local records office for the county.
The trail is not cold yet, and school doesn’t start for another month.I have some time and nowhere to be.My finances aren’t going to be as excited about the research expedition, but I’ll manage, staying in hostels and eating an unadvised amount of Gregg’s sausage rolls, which will be delicious, if not exactly healthy for me.
“Miss Chopra,” the front desk employee yells after me as I cross the lobby.“We have a message for you.”
“For me?”There was nothing on my phone.I check again as I walk to the desk.Who would know that I’m here but doesn’t have my cell number?Maybe it’s someone from the conference I don’t know well.We’re all staying here.
“Here you are.”He hands me a sealed envelope.It’s small, and has my name written on it in the fanciest script I’ve seen used for my name.
“Who is this from?”I tap the envelope on the counter.
“They didn’t leave a name.But someone came while you were out tonight and left it.Looked like an accountant or lawyer type.”
I have no idea why any English accounts or lawyers would want to leave me a letter, but okay.Did some family not like what I wrote about them?Am I being sued?Damn it, now I need to find an attorney here, and they wear wigs…how can I take that seriously?Oh, but maybe I could get more of their records out of discovery and write another article about whoever is mad.Maybe a book this time, with all that access.
I open the envelope and start walking to the stairs again.Then I stop in the middle of the lobby when I see the letterhead.
The Alston Hall Trust.
I’m so shocked I almost drop the paper and my phone on the marble floor of the hotel.And then I almost drop them because someone bumps into me from behind.Okay, it may be my fault for stopping in the middle of a walkway, but still, driving rules say don’t follow someone so close that you can’t get out of the way if they abruptly stop.
So I think we can all agree we’re both equally at fault.
We apologize reflexively to each other, because the woman is British and I’ve been in England too long.
Then I detour from my room to find a chair in the lobby.I can’t wait for however long it’ll take to get up the stairs to the fourth floor in this heavy dress, or a very slow ride in a very tiny elevator.
Finally, out of danger of being knocked over by people walking, I start reading.
CHAPTER38
Dear Dr.Chopra,
I hope you’re enjoying your time in our country.I am one of the attorneys responsible for the care and management of Alston Hall.In that capacity, I have been asked to extend the invitation to you, to come visit the estate.
I am currently staying on the Isle of Wight, so if you would like to accept the invitation, simply call the number listed below, and we will make all the arrangements for a visit.
Regards,
David Maynard
The Alston Hall Trust
What?I get up and make a circle to look around the lobby, wondering if I’m being watched right now.How do they know I’m here?Why do they want me to come to the house?To Leo’s home.Who asked them to invite me?
Maybe Leo left me a letter, and instructions to find me when he knows I’m in England.To let me know he had a good life.Maybe he left some historical insights or an old book; he knows how much I would love that.
But I can’t ignore that the only other way this could have been more tailor-made to lure me to a kidnapping would be if they had included the promise of English bulldogs, primary sources of the Indian experience in England, or one of those elaborate milkshakes with pieces of cake to top them off.So even though this may be how I get kidnapped, I’m calling that damn number.
