spreads stories like that?'
'It's probably the same as with the river. A few drops trickle out, then more and more until it becomes a rumour that can't be stopped. But the source remains unknown.'
He offered her more food, but she declined. Nor did she have any more wine.
'What did you mean when you said even worse things?'
'It's a well-known fact that many a crime hides behind a large fortune. You only need to look around Africa. Corrupt tyrants sweating among their wealth in the middle of the most catastrophic poverty. Even Christian Holloway seems not to be as pure as the driven snow. Oxfam made an investigation into him and his activities a year or so ago. Oxfam is a superb organisation that uses its limited resources to bring great benefits to the poor people of this world. When Holloway was a young man everything was very clear and transparent. Everything he undertook was clear and could be checked. There were no stains, no grey areas. He was the only son among lots of daughters in a family that was one of the biggest producers of eggs in the USA. He had a colossal fortune behind him based not only on eggs but also various other products such as wheelchairs and perfumes. He was bright, and was awarded a first-class degree by Harvard University. He had a doctorate before his twenty-fifth birthday. Then he started experimenting with advanced oil pumps that he patented and sold. Up to that point, everything is clear. Then Christian Holloway vanishes. It was cleverly done, because nobody seems to have noticed. Not even the press, usually so good at spotting such things, started to ask questions.'
'What happened?' Louise asked.
'He reappeared, three years later. It was only then that anybody noticed he'd been missing. He claimed to have been travelling around the world, and realised that he felt the need to change his life dramatically. He was going to create missions.'
'How do you know all this?'
'Part of my job is to know about people who turn up in poor countries with ambitious plans. In all probability they will eventually come knocking at the door of aid organisations, asking for money they once claimed to possess, but might have exaggerated slightly. Or we might find ourselves standing in the middle of ruined enterprises and having to pick up the pieces after people who came here to swindle the poor and line their own pockets.'
'But surely Holloway was rich from the very start?'
'It's hard to get insight into the lives of wealthy men. They have the necessary resources to create sophisticated smokescreens. You can never be certain if there really is anything inside the shell, if the ample resources they claim to have in fact conceal imminent bankruptcy. It happens every day. Gigantic oil companies or concerns such as Enron suddenly collapse, as if a series of invisible explosions has taken place. Nobody knows what's about to happen apart from those most deeply involved. Either they run away, hang themselves, or they just sit there apathetically and wait for the handcuffs to be clipped on. There was a lot of speculation when Holloway suddenly decided to become a Good Man and help those afflicted with Aids. There were millions of egg-laying hens clucking away in Christian Holloway's background, but there were also rumours, as usual.'
'Saying what?'
'I assume you are who you say you are. Henrik's grieving mother, and not somebody else?'
'What else could I be?'
'An investigative journalist, for instance. I've learned to prefer the journalists who bury things others try to dig up.'
'Are you suggesting that the truth should be suppressed?'
'Perhaps rather that lies shouldn't always be exposed for what they are.'
'And what have you heard about Christian Holloway?'
'Things you should never talk about openly. Even a whisper can sometimes have the same effect as a shout. There are things I know that mean I would be dead within twenty-four hours if I made them public. In a world where a human life is worth no more than a few packets of cigarettes, you have to be careful.'
Lars Hæ°“kansson recharged his glass. Louise shook her head when he held out the bottle of South African red wine.
'Henrik surprised me many times. One of the first occasions was when he tried to establish how much a human life was actually worth. He got fed up with me and my friends, thought we spoke in far too generalised terms about the value of a human life. He set out to