a man called Christian Holloway, who had built some villages where Aids suffering could get treatment. The place Henrik had visited didn't have a name because Holloway preached humility. Even having a name was presumptuous. The people being nursed there paid nothing. Those who worked there were volunteers, many of them Europeans, but there were also some Americans and Asians. Their input was exclusively charitable, and they lived simply. It wasn't a religious sect. Henrik said that no gods were needed because what the volunteers were doing was divine. That morning I saw something in Henrik that I'd never seen before. He had forced his way through that wall of despair he had fought so hard against.'
'What happened next?'
'He drove back there the very next day. Perhaps he only came to Maputo to tell me about how happy he was. Now he'd found something to balance the scales, to prevent a total victory for misery and suffering. Those were his own words – he could sometimes sound a bit high-flown, but he really meant it. Henrik was Henrik. He had seen the injustice, he'd seen that Aids was a plague that nobody wanted to come into contact with. I don't know the significance of Henrik himself carrying the infection. Nor do I know how it happened. Or when. But every time we met up, he said he wanted to show me Holloway's village where benevolence and consideration for others had conquered. And eventually, he did take me there. Only once.'
'Why did he leave the village and travel back to Europe?'
'Perhaps you'll find the answer to your questions when you get there.'
Louise stood up.
'I can't wait, How far have we still to go?'
'We're about halfway there.'
The countryside alternated between green and brown. They came to a plain with a wide river, crossed over a bridge and drove through the town Xai-Xai. Shortly afterwards Lucinda turned off along a road that seemed to lead into endless bush. The car creaked and clattered along the potholed road.
After twenty minutes they came to a village made up of white mud huts. There were also some larger buildings, all of them clustered around an open stretch of sand. Lucinda parked the car in the shadow of a tree and switched off the engine.
'This is it. Christian Holloway's village.'
I'm close to Henrik. He was here only a couple of months ago.
'Henrik said that visitors were always welcome,' Lucinda said. 'Benevolence should not be kept secret.'
'Is that what he said?'
'I think he had heard Holloway or one of his helpers use those words.'
'Who is this Holloway exactly?'
'According to Henrik he's a very rich man. He wasn't sure, but he thought Holloway had made his money from various technical patents that have made it easier to search for oil under the seabed. He's rich and extremely shy.'
'That hardly sounds like the kind of man who is starting to devote his life to people suffering from Aids.'
'Why not? I've made a clean break with the life I used to lead. I know a lot of others who have done the same thing.'
Lucinda closed the conversation by getting out of the car. Louise stayed put. Heat and sweat were making her feel sticky all over. But eventually she got out and stood beside Lucinda. The place seemed to be enveloped by an oppressive silence. Louise shuddered despite the heat. She was feeling increasingly uncomfortable. Although there was no sign of any people, she felt as if she were being watched.
Lucinda pointed to a pond surrounded by a fence.
'Henrik spoke about that pond, and the old crocodile.'
They went closer. The pond was full of slow-moving slimy water. On the muddy bank was a large crocodile. Both Lucinda and Louise gave a start. It was at least four metres long. The remains of a blood-soaked rabbit or monkey were hanging from the beast's jaws.
'Henrik said it was over seventy years old. Christian Holloway maintained it was their guardian angel.'
'A crocodile with white wings?'
'There have been crocodiles on the earth for 200 million years. Crocodiles scare us because of their ferocity. But nobody can deny them the right to exist, nor can anybody ignore their fantastic ability to survive.'
Louise shook her head.
'I still don't know what he meant. I'd like to ask him in person. Is he here?'
'I don't know. Henrik said that Holloway seldom put in an appearance. He was always surrounded by darkness.'
'Is that what Henrik said? Surrounded by darkness?'
'Yes. I remember his words clearly.'
A door opened in one of the