She closed her eyes again.
'Did the two of you meet there?'
'No. We met in my country-the Sudan. I'm from a village in the South.
My father was the head of our community. I was schooled in Kenya and England because the big universities in Khartoum and Omdurman are Islamic and my family was Christian. The South is 'No... I don't believe so. A long name-something German.'
'Huenengarth?'
'Yes, that's it. He was very nice, said kind things about larry.'
Her gaze shifted, distractedly, to the ceiling. Are you certain I can'tget you something to drink?'
'Water would be fine.'
She nodded and rose. 'If we're lucky, the Sparkletts man has come.
Beverly Hills water is disagreeable. The minerals. Larry and I don't drink it.'
While she was gone, I got up and inspected the paintings.
Hockney verified. Watercolor still life in a Plexiglas box frame.
Next to that, a small abstract canvas that turned out to be a De Kooning. A Jasper Johns word salad, a Jim Dine bathrobe study, a Picasso satyr-and-nymph gambol in China ink. Lots of others I couldn't identif', interspersed with the earth-toned batiks. The wax pressings were tribal scenes and geometric designs that could have been talismans.
She returned with an empty glass, a bottle of Perrier, and a folded linen napkin on an oval lacquer tray. 'I'm sorry, there's no spring water. I trust this will be acceptable.'
'Of course. Thank you.'
She poured the water for me and took her seat again.
'Lovely art,' I said.
'larry bought it in New York, when he worked at SloanKettering.'
'The cancer institute?'
'Yes. We were there for four years. Larry was very interested in cancer-the rise in frequency. Patterns. How the world was being poisoned. He worried about the world.'
Christian and animist-do you know what that is?'
Ancient tribal religions?'
'Yes. Primitive, but very enduring. The northerners resent that-the endurance. Everyone was supposed to embrace Islam. A hundred years ago they sold the southerners as slaves; now they try to enslave us with religion.'
Her hands tightened. The rest of her remained unchanged.
'Was Dr. Ashmore doing research in the Sudan?'
She nodded. 'With the U.N. Studying disease patterns-that's why Mr. Huenengarth felt the donation to UNICEF would be an appropriate tribute.'
'Disease patterns,' I said. 'Epidemiology?'
She nodded. 'His training was in toxicology and environmental medicine, but he did that only briefly. Mathematics was his true love, and with epidemiology he could combine mathematics with medicine.
In the Sudan he studied the pace of bacterial contagion from village to village. My father admired his work and assigned me to help him take blood from the children-I'd just finished my nursing degree in Nairobi and had returned home.' She smiled. 'I became the needle lady-larry didn't like hurting the children. We became
