"What about e-mail?"
"She has no e-mail anymore. Her computer had a cardiac arrest on the day after she attempted to publish her article, and it has not recovered."
She sat pink and stoical in her vexation.
"And therefore?" Justin prompted her.
"Therefore we have no document. They stole it when they stole the computer and the files and the tapes. I telephoned to Lara in the evening, five o'clock German time. Our conversation finished at maybe five-forty. She was emotional, very happy. I also. "Wait till Kovacs hears about this," she kept saying. So we talked a long time and laughed and I did not think to make a copy of Lorbeer's confession until tomorrow. I put the document in our safe and locked it. It's not an enormous safe but it is considerable. The burglars had a key. As they locked our doors when they left, so they locked our safe after they had stolen our document. When one considers these things they are obvious. Until then they do not exist. What does a giant do when he wants a key? He tells his little people to find out what safe we have, then he phones the giant who made the safe and asks him to have his little people make a key. In the world of giants, this is normal."
The white Mercedes hadn't moved. Perhaps that too was normal.
* * *
They have found a tin shelter. Rows of folded deck chairs stand chained like prisoners to either side of them. The rain rattles and pings on the tin roof and runs in rivulets at their feet. Carl has returned to his mother. He lies sleeping on her breast with his head tucked into her shoulder. She has unfolded a parasol and is holding it over him. Justin sits apart from them on the bench, hands linked between his knees in prayer and his head bowed over his hands. This is what I resented about Garth's death, he remembers. Garth deprived me of my further education.
"Lorbeer was writing a roman," she says.
"Novel."
"Roman is a novel?"
"Yes."
"Then this novel has the happy end at the beginning. Once upon a time there are two beautiful young woman doctors called Emrich and Kovacs. They are interns at Leipzig University in East Germany. The university has a big hospital. They are researching under the guidance of wise professors and they dream one day they will make a great discovery that will save the world. Nobody speaks of the god Profit, unless it is profit to mankind. At Leipzig Hospital there are arriving many returning Russian Germans from Siberia and they have TB. In the Soviet prison camps the prevalence of TB was very high. All the patients are poor, all are sick and without defenses, most have multi-resistant strains, many are dying. They will sign anything, they will try anything, they will not make trouble. So it is natural that the two young doctors have been isolating bacteria and experimenting with embryonic remedies for TB. They have tested with animals, maybe they tested also with medical students and other interns. Medical students have no money. They will be doctors one day, they are interested in the process. And in charge of their researches we have an Oberarzt — "
"Senior doctor."
"The team is led by an Oberarzt who is enthusiastic for the experiments. All the team wants his admiration so all take part in the experiments. Nobody is evil, nobody is criminal. They are young dreamers, they have a sexy subject to analyze and the patients are desperate. Why not?"
"Why not?" Justin murmurs.
"And Kovacs has a boyfriend. Kovacs has always a boyfriend. Many boyfriends. This boyfriend is a Pole, a good fellow. Married, but never mind. And he has a laboratory. A small, efficient, intelligent laboratory in Gdansk. For love of Kovacs, the Pole tells her she can come and play in his laboratory whenever she has free time. She can bring whom she wants, so she brings her beautiful friend and colleague Emrich. Kovacs and Emrich research, Kovacs and the Pole make love, everyone is happy, nobody talks about the god Profit. These young people are looking only for honor and glory and maybe a bit promotion. And their studies produce positive results. Patients still die but they were dying anyway. And some live who would have died. Kovacs and Emrich are proud. They write articles for medical magazines. Their professor writes articles supporting them. Other professors support the professor, everyone is happy, everyone congratulates his neighbor, there are no enemies, or not yet."
Carl shuffles on her shoulder. She pats his back and blows softly on his ear. He smiles and goes back to sleep.
"Emrich also has a lover. She has a husband whose name is Emrich but he is not satisfactory, this is Eastern Europe, everyone has been married to everyone. Her lover's name is Markus Lorbeer. He has a South African birth certificate, a German father and a Dutch mother and he is living in Moscow as a pharma agent, self-employed, but also as — as an entrepreneur who identifies interesting possibilities in the field of biotechnology and exploits them."
"Talent spotter."
"He is older than Lara by maybe fifteen years, he has swum in all the oceans, as we say, he is a dreamer as she is. He loves science, but never became a scientist. He loves medicine but is not a doctor. He loves God and the whole world, but he also loves hard currency and the god Profit. So he writes: "The young Lorbeer is a believer, he worships the Christian God, he worships women, but he worships also very much the god Profit." That is his downfall. He believes in God but ignores Him. Personally I reject this attitude but never mind. For a humanist, God is an excuse for not being humanistic. We shall be humanistic in the afterlife, meanwhile we make Profit. Never mind. "Lorbeer took God's gift of wisdom" — I guess he means by this the molecule — "and sold it to the devil." I guess he means KVH. Then he writes that when Tessa came to see him in the desert, he told her the full extent of his sin."
Justin sits up sharply.
"He says that? He told Tessa? When? In the hospital? Where did she come to see him? What desert? What on earth is he saying?"
"Like I told you, the document is a little crazy. He calls her the Abbott. "When the Abbott came to visit Lorbeer in the desert, Lorbeer wept." Maybe it is a dream, a fable. Lorbeer has become a penitent in the desert now. He is Elijah or Christ, I don't know. It's disgusting actually. "The Abbott called Lorbeer to account before God. Therefore at this meeting in the desert, Lorbeer explained to the Abbott the inmost nature of his sins." This is what he writes. His sins were evidently many. I don't remember them all. There was the sin of self-delusion and the sin of false argument. Then comes the sin of pride, I think. Followed by the sin of cowardice. For this he does not excuse himself at all, which makes me happy actually. But probably he is happy too. Lara says he is only happy when he is confessing or making love."
"He wrote all this in English?"
She nodded. "One paragraph he wrote like the English Bible, the next paragraph he was giving extremely technical data about the deliberately specious design of the clinical trials, the disputes between Kovacs and Emrich and the problems of Dypraxa when combined with other drugs. Only a very informed person could know such details. This Lorbeer I greatly prefer to the Lorbeer of heaven and hell, I will admit to you."
"Abbott with a small A?"
"Large. "The Abbott recorded everything I told her." But there was another sin. He killed her."
Waiting, Justin fixed his gaze on the recumbent Carl.
"Maybe not directly, he is ambiguous. "Lorbeer killed her with his treachery. He committed the sin of Judas, therefore he cut her throat with his bare hands and nailed Bluhm to the tree." When I was reading out these words to Lara, I asked her: "Lara. Is Markus saying that he killed Tessa Quayle?"'"
"How did she reply?"
"Markus could not kill his worst enemy. That is his agony, she says. To be a bad man with a good conscience. She is Russian, very depressed."