a silhouette of you?'
'I gave it to him. He had seen Chinese silhouettists, and was keen to learn the art. There's something fascinating about the process of reducing people to shadows and profiles.'
'Why have you come here?'
'You have displayed an interest in the work I do here. The least I can do is to devote some time to a conversation which might enable me to give you something in return.'
'I would like to get dressed in private.'
'When would you like me to return?'
'I would prefer to meet you downstairs.'
He frowned.
'There's too much noise, too many distractions in the restaurant and the bar. Instruments playing out of tune, pots and pans clattering in the kitchen, people talking about nothing.'
'I don't share that attitude. But I'll be ready in half an hour.'
'Then I'll come back here then.'
He left the room without a sound. He had evidently learned something from the Africans he held in such contempt. He had learned how to move across a floor in total silence.
She got dressed and at the same time tried to prepare herself for his return. How would she be able to confront him with all her questions? Would she be able to tell him outright that she thought he was responsible for the death of her only son? I ought to be afraid, she told herself. I ought to be terrified. If I'm right he could easily kill me in the same way as he's killed Henrik and Umbi. Even if he's alone when he enters this room, he has bodyguards everywhere. They are invisible, but they're there.
His knock on the door was so quiet that she hardly heard it. When she opened it there stood Christian Holloway, alone. He smiled and came in.
'Once upon a time this hotel is said to have been a favourite haunt of South African tourists. During the era of Portuguese colonialism Mozambique was a paradise on earth. It could offer beaches, fishing, heat, and not least lots of young girls who cost next to nothing to bed. Now all that is a memory that has almost faded away.'
'Despite everything, the world sometimes becomes a better place.'
'That depends on who you ask.'
'I'm asking. I wonder who you are, what drives you to do what you do.'
'Is that why you keep coming back here?'
'My son Henrik came here once. You know that. Then he went back to Sweden and died. You know that as well.'
'I've already expressed my condolences. Unfortunately, I don't believe it's possible to share one's grief with anybody else. One is alone with one's grief, just as one is alone when one dies.'
'Why did my son have to die?'
He did not lose his composure. His expression was sincere, his eyes looked straight into hers.
'Why do you think I'd be able to answer that question?'
'I think you're the only one who can answer that question.'
'What do you think I know?'
'Why he died. And who killed him.'
'You said yourself that the police concluded it was suicide.'
'But it wasn't. Somebody forced those sleeping tablets down him.'
'I know from experience how difficult it is to accept the facts when one's child takes his own life.'
'I know that your son committed suicide because he was HIV-positive.'
She detected a glint of surprise in Holloway's eyes, but he quickly regained his composure.
'I'm not surprised that you know about that. Your son obviously knew. It's not possible to keep anything secret in these times.'
'Henrik was convinced it was possible to cover anything up. Hence his interest in the conspiracy theory behind Kennedy's brain.'
'I remember that. The Warren commission failed to unearth anything. I expect there is a very simple explanation that nobody bothered to look into.'
'Henrik said that what is typical of the modern world is that the truth is always suppressed by those who have an interest in allowing untruths to hold sway. Or in using them as a means of encouraging wild speculation that is difficult to counter.'
'I wouldn't have thought that was typical only of our age. I can't think of any epoch when exactly the same criteria didn't apply.'
'But isn't it our mission to expose lies and fight injustice?'
Christian Holloway spread his arms out wide.
'I oppose injustice in my own way, by fighting ignorance and fear. I demonstrate that one can make a contribution. You ask what drives me. I'll tell you. It's the desire to know why an uneducated man like Genghis Khan could defeat sophisticated military organisations and civilised high nations far away from the steppes of Mongolia and establish