Хеннинг Манкелль - A Treacherous Paradise

‘I kept going down to the harbour, but I never saw you berthed there.’

‘We bunkered further north, in Dar es Salaam. Or was it further south, in Durban? I can’t remember.’

Ana realized that Halvorsen must have remained on board all the way back to Sundsvall. That meant that he must have met Svartman, who always gathered together and greeted his crew when they returned to their home port.

‘I assume you stayed with the ship all the way back home?’

‘I stayed on board all the way to Sundsvall. But then I travelled to Norway and signed on to a different ship.’

‘I’m not worried about that. I’d just like to know what Forsman said.’

Halvorsen frowned.

‘Forsman? Who’s he?’

‘The ship’s owner!’

The penny dropped.

‘He came rolling up to the quay in a sort of wheelchair.’

‘Had he injured himself?’

‘He’d had an accident and had to have a leg amputated. But he was determined to go up on deck. He hopped around like a lame bird.’

‘Was he alone?’

‘I think he was accompanied by a Finn, but I can’t remember his name.’

Ana continued questioning him, but he didn’t know anything about Berta or any children. Although it was obviously pointless, Ana couldn’t help asking him about her mother. Had anybody mentioned Elin? The woman who had a daughter who never came back to Sweden?

Halvorsen knew nothing about anybody called Elin.

‘I never spoke to Forsman,’ he said. ‘It was Svartman who did that. I know nothing about what they said about you and Lundmark, his death and your disappearance. I travelled to Spitzbergen and spent the winter there in the belief that I’d be able to hunt down so many furs, I’d be able to afford to buy a little farm somewhere in Trøndelag. All that happened was that I nearly froze to death, was driven mad by the darkness, and completely lost all faith in the God I used to turn to in times of trouble. He doesn’t exist for me any longer. But I think I’ve collected in advance enough forgiveness for all the sins I haven’t yet committed.’

Halvorsen couldn’t help laughing somewhat plaintively. Then he suddenly leaned towards her, so close that the stench of strong drink hit her full in the face.

‘As you are here, I take it you are also for sale. That negress certainly knew what she was doing. But it can never be the same as it is with a white woman. Do you cost as much as she does? Or maybe you charge even more?’

Halvorsen placed a hand on her breast and gave it a squeeze. She was reminded of Carlos’s hairy fingers, and pushed him away. Halvorsen thought it was the start of a game, and felt her again. This time she slapped him hard and shouted for O’Neill.

‘Throw this man out,’ she said. ‘And make sure he’s never allowed back in. Never ever.’

Halvorsen didn’t even have time to protest before O’Neill had pulled him up off the sofa and dragged him out into the street.

The door closed behind him.

Ana thought that the difference between Captain Svartman and Crewman Halvorsen had been ironed out the moment they entered the establishment where women were for sale. But she couldn’t get over the fact that Halvorsen had thought she was a whore. At that moment something ended irrevocably.

After Halvorsen’s unexpected visit, Ana began noting things down in her diary more often. What had previously been an occasional activity now became more and more important for her. She wrote down in minute detail absolutely everything about Halvorsen’s visit, and his churlish behaviour.

The day after his visit she went with O’Neill down to the harbour. There were two English ships and one Portuguese berthed at the quay. She had no way of knowing which of the ships Halvorsen was a crew member of. Nor could she work out afterwards why she had made that visit to the quay. Perhaps it was nothing more than curiosity that she had no control over?

During the night a swarm of grasshoppers had descended on Lourenço Marques. Nobody knew where they had come from, nor why they had chosen Lourenço Marques to fall down and die in. There were dead or dying grasshoppers lying all over the place — in the streets, on steps and on roofs. When she walked from the brothel to the harbour, she had the impression that this was what a battlefield looked like: every grasshopper was a wounded or dead soldier.

The only one who seemed to appreciate all these grasshoppers was Carlos, who sat on the roof of Ana’s house feasting on the insects.

That afternoon, when she made her usual visit to Isabel in the fort, she was confronted by an officer she had never seen before. That day she had chosen to take O’Neill with her rather than Judas. Commanding Officer Lima had succumbed to some illness that was probably malaria, and had been taken to hospital. His military adviser had taken over Lima’s place. He introduced himself as Lemuel Gulliver Sullivan. Despite his English name, he spoke fluent Portuguese. He was a young man, and could barely have celebrated his thirtieth birthday. Ana hoped that his youth would contribute to more tolerance and consideration for Isabel than Lima had displayed.

But the moment he started speaking, she realized that what she had hoped for would not, in fact, take place.

‘As long as I am in charge here, stricter rules will be applied,’ he began. ‘Those who are imprisoned in this fort are criminals. Their punishment must be felt. At this very moment I am discussing with my fellow officers about the possibility of reintroducing whipping. Giving miscreants a good walloping has always produced good results.’

Ana thought at first that she had misheard what he said. Was Isabel’s life in her wretched cell going to become even worse than it was already? She said as much, without attempting to conceal her concern.

‘Her crime must be treated extremely strictly,’ said the new commanding officer. ‘The only thing that matters in this case is that she killed a white man. If we don’t clamp down strictly on that, it could be interpreted as a sign that the respect we demand is not total and unconditional.’

Ana could see that it was pointless to try to argue with Sullivan.

‘Are there other regulations that will come into force from now on?’ she asked instead.

‘We shall not permit more than an extremely limited number of visitors.’

‘Who, to be precise?’

‘You, of course. And that priest who keeps turning up and trying to accumulate lost souls. Plus a doctor, should that become necessary. But nobody else.’

‘What about if she should acquire a legal adviser?’

Sullivan burst out laughing and advertised the fact that he was short of quite a large number of teeth, despite his age.

‘Who on earth would want to advise her? And about what?’

Ana asked no more questions. She went down the stairs into the darkness where Isabel was sitting motionless on her bunk bed, looking as if she hadn’t moved since Ana’s visit the previous day. But the basket was empty: Isabel was still alive. She was eating.

‘Somebody will come to visit you,’ said Ana. ‘I think and hope he’s a clever man who might be able to help me to have you set free. He’ll pretend to be a doctor when he enters the fort. As he speaks the same language as you, nobody will be able to understand what the pair of you are saying, not even me.’

Isabel didn’t respond, but Ana had the impression that she was listening.

‘The next time I come I’ll bring you some clean clothes,’ she said. ‘By then it will be three months since you were locked up here. I’ll ask once again for them to give you sufficient water for you to get washed.’

Ana only stayed for a few minutes. The important thing now was not her visits, but whether or not Pandre would be able to change her situation.