Chapter Fifteen

I’ve seen the future and it is murder.

—Leonard Cohen

As Caitlin and Mandy sat together at breakfast the next morning, a large truck lumbered into the mission. A slogan was scrawled on its side: GOD SAVE THE TRAVELERS. Soon, one of the mission workers came to her, arms filled with flowers.

“Caitlin, these are for you,” she said. “Aren’t they beautiful? They are from Mr. Von Vermeer. And here’s a note for you too.”

Mandy chuckled. “You must have made quite an impression on your boss.”

“Must have.” Caitlin opened the envelope and read the note.

“What’s the lorry unloading?” Mandy asked.

“That’s the best news,” the worker replied. “Mr. Vermeer sent the mission a truckload of food and supplies—rice, palm oil, soap, pencils, paper, and even some battery powered games for the boys. The priests and nuns are ecstatic.”

“You said there’s pencils and paper too?” Caitlin asked.

“Yes, several boxes of colored pencils and four big cartons of paper. The pencils and paper were designated especially for your art program.”

“Okay, Caitlin,” Mandy said. “Enough suspense. Read the letter.”

Caitlin clutched the note to her chest. “No!”

Laughing, Mandy snatched the letter and read it out loud, holding Caitlin at bay with one arm:

Dearest Caitlin:

I hope you enjoy the flowers, and I trust the supplies will be useful for your mission and for the very important work you are doing. I know your time in Africa is limited, so take as much time off as you need from Vermeer Diamonds. Please allow me to take you to dinner this evening. I will pick you up at seven. During dinner we can talk about my art collection and possibly your using it for a show in Louisiana. I never thought I’d say this to any woman, but I love you, Caitlin. I’ve loved you since I first saw you.

Affectionately yours,

Von

Mandy scrunched her face. “I wuuvvv you, Caitlin? Christ, this note sounds like he’s a schoolboy who has his first crush!” She made kissing sounds. “I hope you aren’t seriously thinking about getting serious with this bobo. He’s got loser written all over his face. Did you know he pinched my ass at Paddy’s?”

Caitlin laughed at Mandy’s smooching sounds. “Mandy! You probably liked his pinching your butt. I admit, Von is a little frisky, but I don’t think he meant anything by it. Calling this date a sign of a serious relationship is stretching it. He’s just my boss taking me to dinner.” Caitlin turned and looked at the pile of boxes the workers had taken from the truck. She wished Von had left out the love words and she wished she hadn’t let Mandy read the letter at all. “It really was a generous thing for him to do for the mission. You know how badly we needed those supplies. He might think I’m ungrateful if I ’don’t go. Besides, I won’t be here much longer. I’ve worked hard, and I want to see something else of Freetown besides the mission. I’m entitled to have one night out with a handsome, rich man, even if he is my boss.”

That evening, Caitlin slipped on some jeans and a red button-down blouse and waited for Von by the compound gate. He arrived in a chauffeured Mercedes, and he wore a suit and tie.

“Hello, Caitlin,” Von said. “You look lovely. Allow me.”

When he opened the back door of the Mercedes, she said, “I’m a little embarrassed at my clothes, Von. I wasn’t expecting a formal evening. I feel very underdressed. I thought we might be going to Paddy’s. You’ll have to excuse me while I go in and change.”

“So, I’ve succeeded in impressing you?”

Caitlin couldn’t recall Hunter ever wearing a suit. “You’ve impressed me, Von, but I’m still going to go inside and change. I would feel out of place.”

“No need for that. Besides, we don’t have time.” Von extended his arm toward the car, and they slid into the backseat. He had hired a private driver for the Mercedes, and though it was not a limousine, it was air-conditioned, and Caitlin found the drive through Freetown very pleasant.

Von took Caitlin to the Bintumani Hotel and Casino. When they arrived, Von led her by the hand to the casino’s shop. “Let’s pick you out a dress. They have a decent selection.” He flipped through a rack of dresses and picked out a black, silk evening dress.

“Here,” he said. “Let’s see, you are about five-foot-five? This should fit you nicely.”

She stepped into a changing room and slipped it on. The dress fit her perfectly. She felt as though Von knew the exact size of her clothes. Caitlin never remembered any man ever buying her a dress. It certainly was not something that Hunter would have done.

Caitlin smoothed the dress down and admired herself in the mirror, then stepped out.

“Stunning,” Von said. Von charged the dress to his room and sent a boy to deliver Caitlin’s clothes to his car. “We’ll send for your clothes when you’re ready to call it a night.”

Caitlin could hardly believe her eyes as she studied the cut of the dress. The dress felt expensive. She again ran her hand over the fabric in disbelief.

“Von, I can’t accept this dress.”

“Nonsense. We’ve had this talk before. It’s already paid for. If you don’t accept it, I swear I’ll throw it away.”

“How much does the dress cost, Von?”

“Don’t ask such things about a gift. It doesn’t matter. I’m embarrassed that I didn’t have time to find you a better one. Let’s move along to the restaurant. I hope you have a good appetite tonight.”

“I’m starving,” she replied. “Thank you, Von. It’s a lovely dress.”

Throughout the evening, Von showed himself to be extravagant and ostentatious, spending by Caitlin’s calculations nearly a thousand dollars on the meal and a few games of roulette and blackjack. Her conscience was piqued by the contrast between the wealthy who crowded the tables around them and the poor she knew to be the majority of the nation’s population. She wondered what the mission could have done for the boys with the money she helped Von squander.

Yet, Caitlin felt pampered and special, and her attraction for Von intensified. Handsome and a brilliant conversationalist, he didn’t seem to be the soulless beast Father Ambrose ranted about or the loser Mandy perceived him to be.

“What are you thinking, Caitlin?” Von asked as he scooted his chair a little closer.

“I just realized how nice a man you are for giving me such a wonderful evening. I’ve never had an experience like this before. These people here have so much money! I mean, I’ve lived a rather sheltered-on-the-poor-side type of life. I was sixteen when I learned that chester-drawers were really what people called chest-of-drawers. I was twenty-one before I found out that prime rib was a kind of steak. I feel a little bit like a Cinderella tonight.”

“I think you underestimate yourself,” Von said. “I already see you as a princess, and I want you as a part of my kingdom.”

After the dress, the meal, a great deal of drink, and the lavish attention Von showered on her, when he suggested they go to his room, she agreed. She had not been with a man since she had broken up with Hunter, and that seemed so long ago.

****

During her last week in Sierra Leone, Von came to the mission every day to see Caitlin. He seemed to enjoy watching her teach and work with the boys. At the end of the day, after she helped put the boys down for the evening, Von would take her to Paddy’s or one of the other Freetown restaurants for supper and drinks. One night, he offered to take her back to the casino, but Caitlin refused. Instead, Von drove her to his Freetown house so she could view his collection of art and artifacts.

Caitlin gasped when she entered the room. On one wall hung several handcrafted masks from the various secret societies of Sierra Leone, and Von spoke eloquently of each mask and its implied symbolism. There were various musical instruments, including a score of leather-wrapped rattles and a kele drum made of a hollow log with slits in its side. There were gourd castanets, various stringed instruments from the Fullas, and marimbas from the Kabala district. On another wall were paintings and tapestries created by Sierra Leone artists, as well as primitive and certainly ancient wooden sculptures that stood on small tables in each corner.

There was a judgment mask of the Poro secret society, made of wood and decorated with iron pins and cowry shells. Caitlin touched it. “Von, this collection is breathtaking. I had no idea that you possessed such an aesthetic eye.” Caitlin tried to imagine Hunter having and appreciating such a collection, but the thought was too difficult to hold on to.

“I only obtained it recently. I know you’ve been wondering what I’ve been doing while you’ve been the good Samaritan at the Mission. It seems I’ve been named a partner for a mining company. I had planned to sell the collection immediately upon my arrival in New Orleans, but I’ve told the interested parties that I wish to hold on to it a bit longer. I would like to loan this to your gallery for display, to go along with the African art show you have planned.”

“I’m speechless. This collection must be priceless.”

“Oh, you have no idea of its value.” Von’s blue eyes scanned the room. He lifted a rattle from its holder, shook it, and placed it in her hands. “For example, Caitlin, I have a buyer who is willing to pay me one hundred thousand dollars for this one rattle.”

“Just for one rattle?” In spite of herself, she shook the rattle, listening to the stones inside make their delicate music against the hard skin of the gourd.

“So, you’ll use the collection in your show?”

“Von, I couldn’t… I couldn’t take a collection this valuable. What if something were to happen to it?”

“It’s insured. You can take it. Please? For me?” He returned the rattle to its holder and slipped his arms around her waist and drew her close. “I’ll pay for the shipping. All you have to do is keep it on display until I can make arrangements to pick it up.”

Caitlin contemplated the magnificent pieces of Von’s little museum, picturing the items in her gallery. This collection would be an excellent illustrative backdrop for her show on her African experience and would certainly help draw a huge crowd. “Thank you, Von. You do know how to find a lady’s weak spot.”

Caitlin called and left a message for Mandy that she was safe but wouldn’t return to the mission that evening. She spent that night with Von in his Freetown house.

****

The night before Caitlin was scheduled to leave, Von came to the mission.

“Well,” he said. “Shall we go to dinner?”

“No, Von. I told you yesterday that I’ve got to pack tonight. I’m glad you came to see me though.”

“I’m going to miss you, Caitlin,” he said as he took her hand. “Let’s at least go for a walk.”

“Sure.”

After they had made their way to the beach, Von said, “I want something more than casual employee contact, Caitlin. Much more. The next time I see you, I want to talk about our future.”

“Von, I am so flattered, but as far as our future together, let’s just take it slow, okay? I can’t promise that we’ll ever have more of a relationship than we have now. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of commitment. I just don’t want to promise too much, and anyway, you probably will forget about me a week after I’m gone. As handsome and rich as you are, the moment you return to New Orleans, you’ll have women climbing all over you.”

“Caitlin, you’re the only one I want climbing over me.” Von pulled her close. “A kiss before I leave?”

Caitlin discreetly glanced around them to make sure no one was watching and kissed him. “Now, you’ve got to leave and quit distracting me. I must pack.”

“I’ll drive you to the airport tomorrow.”

“No, Von. I promised Mandy the whole morning. She’ll take me there, but you can meet us and see me off.” She shooed him away. “Go on now.” When he reached the gate, he turned to look at her and she blew him a kiss.

****

Von drove his Landrover to the Lungi airport and walked directly to customs. There, a man sat on a stool reading a copy of The Pool, a Sierra Leone newspaper.

“How are you, Bashir?” Von extended his hand.

Bashir took his hand. “I am doing well, sir, very well.”

Von thrust a small envelope and a wrapped package into his plump hand. “An American lady will come through here to take the weekly flight to London.” He took a picture of Caitlin from his pocket and handed it to him. “This lady is very special to me. Her name is Caitlin Johnson. Please give her the package. It’s a rattle from a tribe in the interior in case you’re wondering. I trust she and her baggage can get through customs speedily with no problems. And this envelope is for you and your family. Be sure and give my wife your best.”

“Thank you, sir.” Bashir smiled as he slipped the money into a small briefcase at his side. “My wife will be very happy that you came to see me. This Miss Johnson will one day be your own missus?”

“Without a doubt.”

“I will take care of my friend and his future bride.” He held up the envelope and the package. “I will deliver this to her myself, as she boards the plane. And thank you.”

“There’s one more thing, Bashir.”

“Yes, sir?”

“I am shipping my art collection with my fiancée to America. Please send your men to my truck when it arrives and have them load it carefully on her flight.”

“I will see to it immediately, sir. The plane is filled to capacity now, but if necessary, I can remove some luggage to make room for your collection. Those suitcases can follow on the next plane.”

“Excellent.” Von returned to the airport later, in time to watch Caitlin and Tejan board the plane.

****

Caitlin was about to board when she heard a voice calling, “Madame! Missy!” She turned and saw the Lebanese man who had checked her through customs running her way. “This is for you.” He handed her a wrapped package.

“Thank you,” Caitlin said. “What is it?”

Bashir wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. “It is a gift. You should be honored. The gentleman who sent you this is a very important and powerful man. I must go now. Have a good flight to America.”

Caitlin glanced at the package. For Caitlin and Rattled was neatly written on the front. “Who is this from?”

“A Mister Von Vermeer, Missy,” Bashir said. “You must excuse me now. I must return to my work.”

After Bashir left, she opened the package

Inside was an African leather rattle. The handle was made of a dark hardwood and the gourd bell was leather covered. The leather was etched, painted, and beaded. Caitlin was sure that it was the rattle Von said was worth over a hundred thousand dollars. “My, oh my,” she said. “Would you look at this?”

“What’s going on?” Mandy asked. “Who is it from? No, let me guess. It’s from your boss and lover boy, Von.”

“Yes, it must be a goodbye present. Get this. He says that I rattled him. See?” She shook the rattle at Mandy. “Look Tejan!” She handed the rattle to Tejan.

“I have often seen such rattles. It is very beautiful, Mamá.” Tejan shook it in a rhythm, then frowned. “This does not make music as it should, Mamá.” He shook it again. “Something is wrong on the inside.”

“Let me see it, Tejan,” Mandy said. She shook the rattle a few times, then handed it back to Caitlin. “Yes, a very nice rattle.”

“You are such a stick-in-the-mud, Mandy. Von said it’s our destiny to be together. Do you think he’ll really propose to me? He asked me if I believed in love at first sight.”

“I don’t believe in love at first sight, Caitlin, especially when at least one of the parties involved is blind! Von’s assuming a lot, isn’t he? I mean it’s not like you slept with him or anything.”

Caitlin’s face took on a squeamish, embarrassed expression.

“No!” Mandy said. “You didn’t! Caitlin, I’ve got a bad feeling about this man, and it’s not just from what Father Ambrose says either. Von is too clingy. He’s too eager to latch on to you. You’re not in love with him, are you?”

Caitlin laughed. “No… At least I don’t think so, but oh, the time with him as been so wonderful! It’s been so long since I’d been with anyone. And he was so sexy and charming, and I just felt weak and vulnerable. At first, it was just a one-night-fling-thing, Mandy—I think, then it turned into something else. I’m not sure I can call it love, but I am extremely attracted to him. And he’s shipping me his whole art collection to display at my next show.”

Mandy slapped her forehead in disbelief. “What is it about Africa that makes white people so crazy? You are absolutely nuts for leading this idiot on.”

“I’m not leading him on. I told him that if he came to see me in Louisiana, we’d talk about a relationship. Imagine. Somebody as rich and handsome as Von proposing to a Southern country girl like me.”

“Well, get married if you want, but I’m going to stay single as long as I can. Give me a hug, Caitlin. The room will be lonely without you and your stack of stinky paintings. Say a prayer that the rest of us can get out soon. I’m getting nervous as hell about this place.”

For some reason Caitlin thought again about the man-shadow near her window during the rainstorm. “You be safe, Mandy. Get another roommate. I don’t want you living alone. And call me as soon as you arrive in London.”

“No, I don’t think I’ll look for a roommate. With my luck I’d get another artist who paints all night long. Being alone for a while actually seems appealing. But I will call or write you when I get the chance. Don’t be stupid and marry Von when he comes to Louisiana.”

“Mandy, I’m flattered by his attention, but to be honest, I don’t know what I’ll say if he proposes seriously.” She gave Mandy a hug and kiss. “Goodbye, Mandy!”

****

That night, Von went to Paddy’s. Mandy was there also, sharing a table with two female Peace Corps workers. They were very drunk, laughing and talking loudly. He walked up to their table.

“May I buy you ladies a drink?”

The two with her tittered but said nothing. Mandy curtly replied, “No.”

Von felt his face redden as Mandy ignored him and resumed her conversation with the women sitting with her.

He tried again. “There’s fewer Westerners in Freetown every day.”

Mandy’s eyes bored into his and she said in a loud voice, “I think you are confusing me with someone who wants to have a conversation with you.”

Mandy’s friends laughed.

“I just want to talk to you about Caitlin,” Von said. “You must believe that I’m very sincere when I say I care for her. She needs me.”

“Oh, I know. I read the letter you gave her. I wuvvv you, Caitlin. Jesus, man. Just in case you’re more out of touch from the real world than I think you are, let me say this: Grown men don’t come on to women with premature declarations of love and marriage. She was attracted to you and all that, but she has a new son to take care of and a life to rebuild in Louisiana. Let her do that. She’s bright, talented and independent, and she doesn’t need you or your money at all.”

“Who are you to say?” Von said.

“I was her best friend here. And I know more about her than you’ll ever know. Just so you’ll understand my true feelings about you, I told her you were a loser and that she shouldn’t have anything to do with you. I’ve already talked to Father Ambrose about you, and I’ve heard some other things just today that just might make her totally lose interest. Now, get lost.”

“Caitlin won’t believe anything you say about me.”

“I’m calling her as soon as she arrives in Louisiana and gets a phone. Would you care to wager a bet on which of us she will listen to?” Mandy held up a wad of bills. “But if I were you, I’d keep your money in your pocket.”

Von walked back to the bar, anger burning in his gut.

“You bitch,” he hissed. “You stupid bitch.”

****

Inside her apartment that night, Mandy dressed for bed, then wrote Caitlin a letter telling her the latest news about the mission and about her most recent confrontation with Von. She missed Caitlin already. She put on one of Hunter’s CD’s that Caitlin had given her and contemplated Hunter’s photograph on the CD jacket. She quietly said, “Caitlin, what were you thinking when you let this one go? And God, his voice, so much feeling in it.”

After she finished the letter, she addressed the envelope and laid it on the table. She lay down, buried her face in the pillow, and lost herself in Hunter’s music. She imagined herself the girlfriend of such a creative man, wondered if the poetry in his music could be seen in his eyes and heard in his voice when he talked, wondered what such a man would say when they made love. She turned out the light, fell back on the bed, and allowed Hunter’s Southern voice to be the lullaby to pull her into sleep. Her last conscious thought was about how bad it would be to die alone, without ever knowing the kind of love she felt a man like Hunter could give.

****

The man-shadow outside Mandy’s window watched as she fell asleep, and he hated this woman with a hatred as great as the love he felt for Caitlin. He tried the door first, although he knew it would be locked and braced. Then he examined each of the windows. One was open. He cut the screen and crawled inside. Mandy had left music on, and he wondered how one could sleep listening to such horrible music. He moved closer and listened to her tired breathing, then opened the mosquito net and sat on the bed next to her. He placed one hand on her mouth. Her eyes opened, and he growled, “Not a word. Nod your head. Do you understand?”

He felt her head nod. She whimpered, and he leaned closer. “Shhhh. Oh, Mandy, Mandy, you and that insulting mouth of yours. You really should have let me buy you a drink. We could have had a wonderful evening together. There was so much I wanted to ask you about Caitlin.” He pressed the pillow over her face until she stopped struggling. When he left, her brown eyes were still open.

****

Mandy’s death jolted the psyche of the mission staff and reminded them how quickly the situation in Sierra Leone was deteriorating. Rumors spread that one of the newer boys had strangled her in her room that night. Others were sure that the RUF leaders had sent assassins into Freetown and that for some reason the rebels had targeted the rehabilitation school and its workers. One nurse suggested that since she was smothered, it had been done by a secret society.

Father Ambrose arranged for a small unit of UN soldiers to be stationed at the mission for added protection and dutifully wired Mandy’s family the sad news of her murder. That evening, as he mulled over a bottle of Scotch, he wondered if he should try to contact Caitlin, who seemed to be Mandy’s closest friend here. After several drinks, he realized that he didn’t have the heart at that moment to face any more hurt or to talk about anyone’s death. Besides, the evacuation order had been issued. The mission workers would all be gone and the school closed within a week anyway, so he put off this delivery of bad news till a more convenient time.