Is he a victim of amnesia? A con artist? The curious case of… Mr. Nobody.
He could have been anyone, standing in that Lisbon hotel lobby. He wore a black suit and black tie with black shoes. His hair was jet-black. His eyes from a distance seemed black, too, but perhaps it was merely the reflection off the glossy grand piano near which he stood. He could have easily passed as a financier or a diplomat waiting to take an important meeting, to report back to a man in a glass office in one of the other European capitals, someone of equal breeding and power, who might then direct this man here to enjoy a night in Lisbon and carry on in the morning to Brussels, Berlin, or Geneva, to the next high-level meeting for whatever concern they mutually held at stake.
-GQ
