“You’ll be with us in spirit, Tim.”
Dan passed the injured man a joint.
Tim’s leg was encased inside the best cast Kathmandu could provide.
Thierry appeared on the roof terrace above Thamel, dressed immaculately as usual in his dark suit, a grave expression on his face.
“Elsa died this morning. I am sorry, Tim. You must go to the Finnish embassy to look at her passport. I am so sorry.”
He paused for a moment, no doubt weighing up his next words in his mind.
“Fernando somehow got wind of it. He may have come back on the Lukla plane. I suppose, until we catch the helicopter tomorrow, it might be wise to stay somewhere else.”
“Well, I’m not going to get very far, am I? Is this f**k gonna come after me for accidentally killing my own daughter?”
Tim took a drag and looked at the others.
