Kennedy's Brain Page 0,70

Anybody who makes secret moves to shine a light into the darkest corners can never be sure of what he or she might find. I must continue to shine lights. I shall soon put away all these documents about Kennedy and his accursed brain. But they seem to be a sort of handbook mapping out the world of lies, and hence lead us to the truth.

Louise continued sorting through the papers. There was a map of the southern part of Mozambique. Henrik had drawn a ring round a town called Xai-Xai and a district to the north-west of the town.

Louise put the map to one side. At the very bottom of the sports bag was a brown envelope. She opened it. It contained five silhouettes cut out of black paper. Two of them were geometric patterns. The other three were profiles of people.

She saw right away that one depicted Henrik. It was his profile, no doubt about it. She could feel uneasiness rising up inside her. The silhouette was skilfully made, but Henrik was merely a shadow: the black paper somehow seemed to presage what was to follow.

She examined the other two silhouettes. One depicted a man, the other a woman. The woman's profile made it clear that she was African. There was nothing written on the reverse. All the silhouettes were pasted onto sheets of white paper. There was no signature, nothing to suggest who had made them. Could it have been Henrik himself?

She sorted through the contents of the bag one more time, but in the end she found herself staring at the silhouettes yet again. What did they mean?

She went down to reception, and out into the grounds. The wind off the sea was mild, laden with perfumes from mysterious spices.

She sat down on a bench and stared out over the dark sea. A light was flashing, and on the far horizon ships could be seen sailing southwards.

She was startled when Lucinda suddenly appeared behind her.

Why does everybody here move without a sound? Why don't I hear them creeping up on me?

Lucinda sat down beside her.

'What did you find in the bag?'

Louise gave a start.

'How come you know about that?'

'I met Hæ°“kansson. This is a big city, but at the same time it's very small. I happened to bump into him, and he told me.'

'He said your name was Julieta, and that he didn't know anybody called Lucinda.'

Lucinda's face remained in the shadows.

'Men sometimes give women whatever name they fancy.'

'Why should the women go along with that?'

As she spoke, but too late, Louise realised what Lucinda was saying.

'He thought that I looked like a woman who ought to be called Julieta. For three months we used to meet twice a week, always at specified times in the evening, nearly always in discreet rooms rented out specifically for meetings like ours. Then he found somebody else, or perhaps his wife turned up. I don't remember.'

'Am I supposed to believe this?'

The response came like a punch on the jaw.

'That I was his mistress? That I was his little black toy that he could play with in return for cash, always in dollars or South African rands?'

Lucinda stood up.

'I can't help you if you refuse to accept what happens in a country as poor as this.'

'I didn't mean to offend you.'

'You'll never understand, you'll never have to consider opening your legs in order to afford food for yourself, or for your children, or your parents.'

'Perhaps you can explain it to me.'

'That's why I've come. I'd like you to come with me tomorrow afternoon. There's something I want to show you. Something that Henrik saw as well. Nothing will happen to you, you don't need to be afraid.'

'I'm frightened of everything that happens here, of the darkness, of being mugged by people I can neither see nor hear. I'm frightened because I don't understand.'

'Henrik was frightened as well. But he tried to shake off his fear. He tried to understand.'

Lucinda left. The wind was still no more than a gentle breeze. Louise could picture her, walking along dark streets to the bar where she worked.

She looked around the extensive hotel grounds. Everywhere, she suspected she could see shadows in the darkness.

CHAPTER 14

She stood by the window and watched the sun leap out of the sea. Once, when she was a child, her father had told her the world was like an enormous library stocked with sunrises and dusks. She had never really understood what he meant, how the movements of the

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