The Snowman ( PDFDrive )

‘I’m Sylvia’s sister. We’re twins.’
Harry began to cough.
‘This is Inspector Harry Hole,’ he heard Katrine say behind him. ‘And I’m Katrine Bratt. We were
hoping to find Rolf here.’
‘He’s at the funeral parlour.’ Ane Pedersen paused, and at that moment all three of them knew what
the others were thinking: how do you actually bury a head?
‘And you’ve stepped into the breach?’ Katrine rallied.
Ane Pedersen smiled briefly. ‘Yes.’ She stepped down from the chair with care, still holding the
wooden mask.
‘Ceremonial or spiritual mask?’ Katrine asked.
‘Ceremonial,’ she said. ‘Hutu. Eastern Congo.’
Harry looked at his watch. ‘When will he be back?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Any guesses?’
‘As I said, I don’t –’
‘That really is a beautiful mask,’ Katrine interrupted. ‘You’ve been to the Congo, and you bought it
yourself, didn’t you.’
Ane sent her a look of amazement. ‘How did you know?’
‘I can see by the way you’re holding it, not covering the eyes or mouth. You respect the spirits.’
‘Are you interested in masks?’
‘Sort of,’ Katrine said, pointing to a black mask with small arms at the side and legs hanging
underneath. The face was half human, half animal. ‘That’s a Kpelie mask, isn’t it.’
‘Yes, from the Ivory Coast. Senufo.’
‘A power mask?’ Katrine ran a hand over the stiff, greasy animal hair hanging off the coconut shell
at the top of the mask.
‘Wow, you do know a lot,’ Ane said.
‘What’s a power mask?’ Harry asked.
‘What it says,’ Ane answered. ‘In Africa masks like these are not just empty symbols. A person
wearing this type of mask in the Lo community automatically has all executive and judicial power
bestowed upon him. No one questions the authority of the wearer; the mask confers power.’