The Library of Shadows

12

From his seat next to Kortmann, Jon had an excellent view of the reactions of everyone present. Lee's expression didn't change and he kept his eyes fixed on Kortmann, as if he were waiting to hear more. The teenage girl, Line, looked as if she didn't know how to react, and her flitting eyes sought help from the faces of the others. But there wasn't much help to be found there. The married couple stared at each other in shock, for the first time without smiles or romantic sentiment, while the librarian looked down at her hands, which were shaking slightly. Only Pau looked unconcerned. The whole situation actually seemed to amuse him.

'What do you mean, "In thebest case scenario, we may have a traitor among us"?' Henning Petersen wanted to know. He spoke the words slowly and with his eyes narrowed, as if it were taking all his concentration, but not for a moment did he take his gaze off Kortmann.

Katherina abruptly leaned forward.

'That it's not the receivers who are behind these events,' she replied before Kortmann had time to respond. 'And if it's not the receivers, then it must be you, the transmitters, but since you deny any knowledge of it, you're either lying or there are one or more traitors among you.' Katherina paused to take a breath. Jon watched her from the corner of his eye. She kept her green eyes stubbornly fixed on Henning; her expression was neutral but her breathing revealed how upset she was, and her chin with the little scar was trembling faintly. 'Of the two possibilities, we regard the latter as a more likely scenario than the former.'

Henning stared at her. His eyes blinked involuntarily, as if they couldn't believe what they saw.

'Ah, now I remember you,' he exclaimed. 'You're Katherina, right? The receiver?' He didn't give her time to reply before he went on: 'And one of the best, from what I've heard.'

Jon noticed that Katherina's cheeks turned a bit pink. She nodded and sent a defiant look towards Kortmann before she again spoke.

'That's right. My name is Katherina. I'm a receiver and have been for fifteen years now. Ten of those years I've spent with Luca Campelli and Svend Iversen, and they deserve all the credit if my powers happen to be better than most.'

'Okay, no offence,' said Henning, raising his hand. 'It wasn't meant to be an accusation.'

'No one should have any doubts as to Katherina's loyalty,' Jon interrupted. 'I saw how she fought the flames last night, and she's really the one you should thank for the fact that the bookshop didn't burn to the ground, not me.' Katherina leaned back with her arms crossed as everyone now turned their attention to Jon. 'Kortmann has asked me to undertake an investigation of recent events, including my father's death, and there's no one else I'd rather have helping me than Katherina. Right now she's the only one I trust.'

Looks were exchanged around the table, but most nodded their approval to both Jon and Katherina.

Kortmann cleared his throat.

'As Jon said, he's going to carry out an investigation among us, but also among the receivers. The purpose is to find out who's behind the attacks we've experienced lately – whether we like what he finds out or not.'

'But…' Birthe began hesitantly. 'Could anyone besides a receiver be responsible for Luca's death? No transmitter would be capable of provoking heart failure like that.'

'I wouldn't say that,' replied Henning calmly. 'A transmitter's powers could very well cause an elevation in the pulse and other physiological reactions in a listener. But no one has yet exhibited powers that are strong enough to kill someone outright in that way. Besides, it would be relatively easy to protect yourself against such an attack.' He shrugged his shoulders. 'All you'd have to do is cover your ears.'

'Forgive my ignorance,' said Jon, 'but is that all? Covering your ears?'

Henning nodded. 'A transmitter's powers depend on having the text heard by a listener. It's the text combined with the emotions that it evokes that open the channel and make the person in question susceptible to the Lector. So the best defence is to cover your ears, or simply walk away.'

'Does that mean we can rule out that it was a transmitter who murdered my father?'

'Well, it's very unlikely that it was done by using a transmitter's powers – unless Luca was tied down, but there was no sign of that, was there?'

Kortmann shook his head. 'It would have left marks.'

'Okay,' said Jon after no one else spoke for a couple of seconds. 'Luca's death indicates that it was the work of a receiver, but it could still be the result of natural heart failure, or possibly poisoning. None of the other attacks points exclusively to a receiver, so I don't want to rule anything out yet.' He scanned the faces of the people sitting around the table. Most of them had a more or less resigned look; only Line displayed something other than dismay. Her eyes shone with fear.

'Maybe we should discuss what the motive might be,' suggested Jon.

After another few seconds of silence Henning cleared his throat. He shut his eyes tight for a moment before he spoke.

'That's what doesn't make any sense,' he said, clasping his hands on the table in front of him. 'No Lector, either a transmitter or a receiver, has anything to gain from all this. It's simply too risky. The connection between these events may not be obvious to so-called normal people, but if the attacks continue, we're going to be exposed, and none of us wants that.'

'Why not?' asked Jon. 'Why all the secrecy? Couldn't your powers be of use to everyone if they became known?'

'Let me answer that by asking you a question,' said Henning. 'How do you feel about the fact that there are people like us who can influence your decisions and opinions without you having any control over it?'

'Well, everything's rather new to me,' Jon began. 'I haven't really thought through all the consequences, but I have to admit that it does make me uneasy.'

Lee broke in by leaning forward and jabbing his index finger at the table.

'That's exactly the reason,' he said earnestly. 'That's the normal reaction. Maybe in the beginning people would be fascinated. We'd become exhibits in a freak show – wearing brilliantly coloured robes, we'd "mind-read" what the people in the audience were reading, or we'd make people do silly things by reading to them, like in one of those phoney hypnotist shows. But after a while people would start to worry; they'd be afraid of being manipulated, and maybe they'd even refuse to read anything unless they were sure they were alone, or at least among friends.'

Jon saw how Henning and the married couple exchanged glances, and Thor smiled indulgently. But Lee didn't notice, or at least refused to be deterred and went on with his explanation.

'Anyone with powers would become an outcast, as if he were a leper, because people would be constantly on guard around him. The growing paranoia would end up forcing the Lectors to be registered, maybe even wear a special symbol so that people on the street could recognize them and take precautionary measures. Before long, society might come to the conclusion that the easiest and safest thing would be to lock us up, put us somewhere far away from other people, and maybe even prevent us from having any access to books and texts.' Lee stopped his tirade for a moment to allow Jon to catch up.

'Soon new Lectors would try to hide their powers,' Lee went on with a shrug. 'Just like we do now, actually, and regular manhunts would be carried out to find those who weren't registered or those who had managed to escape from the prisons. A great deal of energy would be expended to detect the existence of powers, even in infants, and "bloodhounds", either electronic or in the form of trained traitors, would track us down like hunted animals. Underground movements would be created by those of us who had managed to get away, and before long the groups would be forced to defend themselves using violent means. Wars would break out-'

'All right, thank you,' said Kortmann. 'I think we get the point, Lee.'

Lee blushed. 'I guess I got a bit carried away,' he said apologetically. 'But it was just to illustrate that none of us has anything to gain by becoming known. Neither transmitters nor receivers.' He leaned back in his chair.

'Even though Lee's version may seem a trifle exaggerated, he's right,' said Kortmann. 'We're different, and as such we can expect to be treated differently, and not in an especially good way, if what we're capable of doing ever gets out.'

'Hasn't anyone ever given you away?' asked Jon. 'It seems to me very unlikely that something like this could be kept secret for what – a hundred years?'

'Oh, much longer than that,' exclaimed Birthe. 'We're talking about centuries. Our best guess is that the first Lectors were in charge of the libraries of antiquity long before the birth of Christ. Back then it was considered prestigious to be a librarian,' she added with a touch of bitterness in her voice. 'They were regarded as statesmen and scholars. People who had influence on the development of society, whose opinions carried weight, and who were consulted regarding all sorts of issues. As you probably realize, that would be a prime position for a Lector who knows how to make use of his powers.'

'But there are no instances when you've ever been exposed?'

Birthe shook her head. 'There is very little concrete evidence that points in our direction. During certain periods some suspicion was directed at scholars who could read and write, but that was probably rooted in envy and ignorance rather than any justifiable fear. If we look at more recent times, no one has ever even hinted at the existence of our powers.'

'Could that be the motive? Exposing the Society?' Jon suggested.

'A hell of a complicated way to go about it,' said Henning. 'I mean, why not just expose us outright? The chances are slim that anyone would ever figure out the connection between the actions that have been carried out up to this point. If the intention is to expose the Lectors, only a complete revelation would do it.'

Lee nodded eagerly. 'I agree with that. An exposй could only come from someone who's part of the group, and only by demonstrating the powers. So if that's the motive, we would have already read about it in the newspapers, seen it on the talk shows and gone to the premiere of the movie.'

'So what are you saying?' asked Jon.

Lee looked at Katherina for a moment. 'I think,' he began, casting a glance at Henning before he continued. 'Wethink that there's something bigger going on.Someone is up to something big, and this is just a preliminary manoeuvre meant to wear us out, confuse us or divert our attention – maybe all three. The question you should be asking now is who thissomeone might be, and for me it's obvious.' Again he looked at Katherina. 'Everything points to the receivers.' He waved his hands towards her, making the gesture seem both dismissive and apologetic. 'I'm not saying that you're involved. It could very well be that you've been kept out of it because of your relationship to Luca.'

'So what's our big plan?' asked Katherina. 'World domination, I suppose?'

Lee studied Katherina for a moment with a hint of satisfaction but then shifted his gaze to Jon.

'I have no idea what they're after, but at least I'm searching for the answer.'

'You're searching?'

Lee nodded. 'Every chance I get. The clues are out there, on the Internet, it's just a question of finding them and figuring out the connections. So far it hasn't produced any result, but it will. It's a little like the wreckage of a ship – something always pops up, even though the beach may have been empty the day before.'

'How long has this been going on?' asked Kortmann in surprise.

Lee shrugged. 'A couple of weeks, I suppose. I didn't think it was necessary to ask permission.'

'No, no, not at all. It would just be nice to know.'

'I didn't realize you wanted to start up this… investigation,' Lee added. 'And it didn't look like anyone else was thinking of doing anything. So since the Society didn't have any more pressing work for me to do, I permitted myself to show a little initiative.'

Kortmann nodded appreciatively. 'Good work, Lee. I suggest that you continue your searches.'

'That's certainly what I intend to do,' said Lee, his words barely audible.

'And keep us updated,' Kortmann emphasized, pointing to himself and to Jon.

'What about the rest of us?' asked Henning sharply.

'You'll be informed, of course, provided there's some definitive result. The most important thing is that we don't panic or start a lynch mob without having any proof to go on.'

'It sounds more like you don't trust us,' said Henning.

'So we're still under suspicion?' Pau interjected.

Kortmann gestured dismissively. 'As you've all said yourselves, there's no firm proof. All possibilities remain open, even the worst of them.' He glanced briefly at Katherina. 'The possibility that one of us is a traitor.' A murmur of discontented voices arose, so Kortmann had to raise his own voice to be heard. 'But I don't believe that. Even so, we're being forced to take every precaution. This isn't a matter of one person maligning someone else or swiping money from the till. People have been hurt – even murdered. Keep that in mind.'

Everyone stopped talking, and for several seconds it was completely silent in the room. Many avoided Jon's eyes when he looked in their direction.

'I think that we should end the meeting here,' said Kortmann calmly. 'The point was for everyone to introduce themselves and for all of us to understand the importance of this investigation. I hope that's been accomplished. Jon will have access to your names and addresses so he can contact you directly if necessary. That's up to him. As I said, I expect all of you to help as best you can.' He clapped his hands together. 'Thanks for coming.'

Everyone stood up amid the scraping of chairs and parting words offered right and left. When Jon said goodbye to Kortmann, the man took a brown envelope out of the side pocket of his wheelchair and handed it to him.

'Keep me posted,' said Kortmann, giving Jon a wink.

Jon nodded in agreement and headed outside with Katherina. Kortmann remained behind with Birthe.

In front of the entrance Pau, Lee and Henning were having a muted conversation, but as soon as Katherina and Jon came out, they broke up and went their separate ways. Pau came sauntering over to them.

'Would you like a lift?' asked Jon.

'No, thanks,' replied Pau. 'I'm on my bike. Besides, I wouldn't want to get in the way of the Dynamic Duo.' He laughed.

'New friends?' asked Katherina, nodding in the direction that Lee had headed.

Pau shrugged. 'I've always thought that Lee was cool. He's going to show me some of his Internet tricks some day.' Pau watched Lee go. 'I suppose he was a little miffed at what Kortmann said. The last time anyone talked to him like that, it was his old man. The Bibliophile Society has turned into a pensioners' club with reading aloud, bingo and all that crap. We've got to recruit some new blood soon – I agree with Lee about that.' He shifted his glance to Jon. 'What do you think, Jon?'

'Hard to say, since I'm not even a member.'

'There shouldn't be any problem about becoming a member since you're Luca's son. But maybe Kortmann won't let you in. Have you thought about why he won't activate you?'

'Not particularly.'

'The others think he's afraid you'll want to take his place.'

'I haven't exactly got the feeling that he's trying to get rid of me – on the contrary,' replied Jon in a neutral tone.

'Yeah, okay,' said Pau, sounding resigned. 'I've got to go. See you!'

They said goodbye and watched Pau cycle away into the darkness, riding an ancient men's bicycle with no lights.

'What do you think?' asked Jon.

'He's just a kid,' said Katherina.

'I meant about the meeting.'

She laughed but quickly turned serious. 'They're scared.'

For the first time in what seemed like ages Jon allowed himself to sleep eight hours straight. Even so, he could tell that he was still suffering from a lack of sleep, but he was alert enough to go through his morning routine without skipping the shaving.

In light of all the recent upheaval in his life, his usual activities and rituals had taken on a new purpose. It was as if he were putting on a different identity – lawyer by day, investigator of secret conspiracies by night. When the two worlds collided, he could see the absurdity, respectively, of going to work when he ought to be investigating his father's death, or of playing amateur detective when he was facing the breakthrough case of his career.

On that particular day three such collisions took place.

The first one happened when he rang a glass company to order new windows for the bookshop. He'd chosen the one that was located closest to Libri di Luca, and it turned out that the glazier had known Luca. Jon introduced himself as the new owner with such ease that afterwards he had stared at the phone for a long time and had to resist the temptation to look at himself in the mirror.

The second collision came in the form of a phone call after lunch.

'Campelli? Remer here,' he heard on the other end of the line, despite the bad connection.

'I'm glad you rang,' replied Jon. 'I assume you received my letter?' After Remer's last visit, Jon had compiled the questions that hadn't been resolved when they met and sent them off to Remer.

'Letter?' repeated Remer. 'No, I didn't receive anything, but I'm in Holland at the moment, so I may be a little difficult to reach. Send an email instead – I usually get those.'

'I did that too,' remarked Jon.

'Oh. Well, that's not the reason I rang you up,' Remer said quickly. 'Do you remember that bookseller I told you about? I met him here in Amsterdam at a reception. Smart guy. He told me what happened at the shop. A very sad story. How serious is the damage?'

'It's not so bad,' replied Jon. 'The wooden facade and the windows have to be replaced, and a bunch of minor things need repair inside, but otherwise not much happened.'

'That's good to hear, Campelli. I can't have my lawyer getting his fingers burned.' Remer laughed loudly on the line while Jon wondered whether the real reason for the call was so that Remer could deliver that punchline.

'It's nice of you to think of me, Mr Remer, but I'd rather have you answer some of the questions I sent you.'

'Oh sure, I'll take a look at them,' said Remer. 'I just wanted to say that he's still interested in buying the place – the bookseller, I mean. He's even willing to overlook any fire damage.'

'As I said-'

'Don't tell me you're still considering becoming a bookseller yourself, Campelli?' Remer interrupted him. 'It does look as if it's more exciting than we both thought, but of course you know where your real talent lies. As I said before, just sell the place and get out of that business. It's much too unpredictable for laymen like us; recent events have proven that clearly enough.'

'Mr Remer,' Jon cut him off. 'Ihave made a decision. Libri di Luca is not for sale. And if you don't mind, I'd like to get back to my job of keeping you out of prison.' He hung up before Remer could reply.

But it wasn't easy to concentrate after that call. He managed to write yet another email and a letter, but Jon's thoughts were more on the conversation than on his work. As he replayed Remer's words in his mind, he sometimes came to the conclusion that Remer had been trying to coerce him into selling for business reasons, but at other times he thought the man had made an outright threat.

The third collision took place during these speculations.

Katherina rang him from the bookshop. On the phone her voice sounded both fragile and gentle, but there was also a note of uncertainty, which Jon noticed at once.

'There's a claims assessor here in the shop,' she told him.

'Yes?' said Jon, as his brain made connections between fire damage, insurance policies and compensation.

'Is this something you requested?'

'No,' replied Jon. 'I think they just show up automatically, don't they?'

There was a pause on the other end of the line.

'The thing is,' whispered Katherina, 'he wants access to the basement.'