Angela stood up from the sofa. ‘Leave this house right now.’ She moved to grab my arm, but I pulled away from her grip.
‘I’ll go. For now. I’ll come back once I have the evidence.’
She put a hand on my back and gave me a shove towards the door. ‘Leave! Now! I’ll call our lawyer!’
I went down the stairs before she could push me down. I paused at the bottom. ‘I just feel sorry for your son,’ I said. ‘For Remco, I mean. Your other son. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like to have his own family attempt to murder him.’
‘He tried to commit suicide.’
‘Okay, you keep telling yourself that. Good luck with it.’
Chapter 36
It wasn’t far to cycle to Dennis’s flat. I would just have this one chat and then I would go and liberate my car.
I paused outside the door. Maybe I shouldn’t have come here by myself. That I had my gun with me was only a small reassurance. I remembered Sandra saying that she had suddenly been scared after she realised she was dealing with a potential double murderer. I had met plenty of murderers before, but that didn’t mean I was entirely comfortable stepping into the lion’s den. I texted Charlie the address, and asked him to join me there urgently. Sometimes you needed extra muscle. I waited until he replied that he was on his way over, and double-checked that my gun was loaded before I rang the doorbell.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was surprised when Dennis opened the door and invited me in. I had been sure that he would leave me standing on the doorstep. Had his mother not called to warn him? I was hesitant about entering the flat, but set my phone to record our conversation and then joined him inside.
His flat was still a shrine to his father. I had half expected him to have dismantled it and taken all the photos down, but Ruud Klaver’s face was still smiling at me from a golden picture frame. Did his son not feel any guilt over what he’d done? That surprised me even more than the fact that Dennis had let me in.
I stayed standing in the middle of the room, wanting to be ready to act if I needed to. I didn’t particularly want to needle him – this was, after all, the man who had most likely hit his father in a stream of red mist – but I also knew that I might well be a trigger. He was much more likely to lose control and admit what he’d done if I was here by myself.
He looked at me with a smirk on his face. ‘Are you here to admit it?’ he asked.
I narrowed my eyes. ‘Admit what?’
The smile disappeared. ‘I’ve withdrawn my complaint. Now admit that you were wrong.’
‘Wrong about what exactly?’ I pushed my hands into my pockets.
‘My father was innocent! Admit it.’ His face was serious, as if he truly believed it. Was that possible? Had he pushed the truth down so deep that he had convinced himself with his own lies?
I frowned. ‘You don’t have to act in front of me,’ I said. ‘I know what happened. Your father killed Maarten Hageman and Carlo Sondervelt.’
‘What?’
‘You burgled Sandra Ngo’s house and you and your mother fabricated that alibi together.’
‘You’re unbelievable! Even now you can’t admit the truth. Everybody knows my father was innocent. It was on Right to Justice.’
There was something about the angry desperation in his voice that pulled me up. Even though I was still on my guard, I was no longer as nervous as I had been when I first stepped into the flat. All I needed to do was to stay calm, keep him calm and get him to accept what had happened. Because I now believed he still didn’t know. He still thought his father had been innocent. That was why his photos were still on the wall. That was why he was still asking me to admit that I’d been wrong. I would have time later to work out what that actually meant, but I also knew that here was my opportunity.
‘Do you remember the night of your father’s arrest?’ I said in the tone of voice I would use with a scared child.
Dennis shook his head. ‘Don’t change the subject.’
‘Do you remember your twelfth birthday party?’
He laughed on a single exhalation. ‘You’ve seen the photos.’
‘I’m not talking about what’s in the photos. Do you remember the party itself? What did you do?’
He looked surprised at the question. He was probably so taken aback by it that he answered without thinking. ‘We went bowling,’ he said. ‘We always did.’
I nodded. ‘When I was a kid, we did the same thing every year. I even had the same classmates. Did you?’
‘I guess so.’
‘It’s hard to tell what happened in which year. I sometimes know because of the clothes I was wearing.’
‘Right.’
‘This,’ I held out the photo, ‘this wasn’t your twelfth birthday party. It was your eleventh.’ My voice was calm. He’d been a kid at the time. What had he known about what his parents did? What had he known about the effect of stabbing someone? ‘Do you remember?’
‘Mum said . . .’ He bit his lip and scratched his chin through his beard.
‘Sandra Ngo called you first when she had evidence that showed that maybe your father was guilty. Did you tell your mother about that?’
‘Of course I did.’
‘Where were you on the evening of the tenth of October?’
‘The tenth? I was at home.’
‘By yourself?’
‘Yes.’
His mother had said that he’d been with her. She had given him a false alibi. But then immediately it struck me that maybe she had given herself a false alibi. What if she hadn’t lied on behalf of Dennis, but for herself?
Dennis looked at the photo. He studied it closely, as if he was seeing it for the first time. ‘I think I turned twelve here. I really do.’
‘You don’t remember the birthday party where your father didn’t show up?’
Dennis shook his head. ‘He was never there. He never showed up. I remember this one because he did. I was twelve.’
‘Look at your haircut,’ I said. ‘Didn’t you have it longer later? Don’t you remember that it was almost down to your shoulders?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t know.’ For the first time, he sounded lost and unsure of himself.
‘Where were you when your brother tried to kill himself?’
‘I was at work. I know that because my mother called me. She said I had to come to the hospital.’
‘All day?’
‘Well, all morning, until she called. Then I left.’
‘And you’ve got witnesses to that, right?’
‘Oh yeah, my colleagues can tell you.’
‘Thanks, Dennis,’ I said. ‘Thank you for your time.’ I looked around me again, at the photos of his father, at the files on the shelves. ‘I’m sorry,’ I said. Such a wasted youth. ‘I’m sorry for what happened to you.’
‘You see,’ he said, ‘that wasn’t so hard.’ The smirk was back on his face.
He hadn’t listened to my words. He’d only heard what he wanted to hear.
I didn’t correct him. ‘I spoke to Barry Hoog the other day,’ I said instead. ‘He said that if you ever wanted to talk to him, he’d be happy to meet.’
All the blood drained from Dennis’s face. ‘You bitch.’ He balled his fists.
‘Don’t misunderstand me. I didn’t say it to attack you,’ I said kindly. ‘Barry’s doing well. I think he really would like to talk to you. Think about it. Call me and I’ll arrange it.’
I left him staring at the photo of his birthday party.
I called Charlie as soon as I was outside. ‘Sorry,’ I said. ‘False alarm.’
‘I’m nearly there now,’ he responded, and I could hear the disappointment in his voice.
‘I’ll see you back at the police station.’ I got back on my bike. I needed some time to gather my thoughts, because my assumptions had been wrong.
The wind gusted at my back and pushed me towards a crossing with a main road. There was no other traffic, and my light
was green. If I pedalled hard, I would make it through the light before it turned red. On the other side of the street, a man on foot was going in the same direction. To my right, the bookshop on the corner was closed and all the lights were off.
Suddenly a loud clunk came from my left. Had the wind brought down a tree? It hadn’t sounded loud enough for that. It had sounded like something insubstantial getting hit.
I thought all of this in a second, and that gave me the chance to veer sharply to the right. But before I could reach the pavement and get off my bike, I was struck from behind. The impact threw me forward over the handlebars. I flung my hands out to break my fall, but I couldn’t stop my own momentum. I hit the ground. I must have sounded insubstantial too.
The car stopped a few metres in front of me. It was a dark Mercedes. I was pretty sure I’d seen that car before. I blinked to get everything back into focus so that I could read the number plate.
But before I could memorise the digits, I saw the tail lights come on.
The Mercedes was reversing towards me.
Chapter 37
I scrambled back as quickly as I could, on hands and knees, to get to the safety of the pavement, but I was still on the ground, and more worryingly still, in the road, when I heard the engine of another car coming up behind me. It pulled in right in front of me, effectively blocking me from the Mercedes. The Mercedes’ tail lights went out and its engine roared, and I watched as it disappeared into the distance. Then I realised that I should have tried to get out of the way, because the right-hand door of the other car opened and a man got out.
I sat up and readied myself to make a run for it. The world spun for a few seconds and went black as all the blood rushed from my head. I had to put a hand on the ground to steady myself, and as pain shot through it, my vision came back and I recognised the man.
It was Charlie.
My breathing slowed and I dropped my head forward and laughed. I’d never been so pleased to see him before.
He stared at the tail lights of the disappearing car, then turned and looked at me with open concern. ‘Jesus, you nearly gave me a heart attack,’ he said. ‘I hadn’t even realised it was you at first. I just saw that there’d been a crash. Look at the state of your bike.’
‘What are you doing? Go after that car.’
He ignored me and knelt by my side. ‘Are you okay?’ He put a hand on my shoulder.
‘We need to get that car.’ I was happy that my voice didn’t wobble at all.
‘It’s gone. But don’t worry, I’ve got most of the number plate. We’ll find it. I’m more worried about you right now. Are you injured anywhere?’
‘I think I’m in one piece.’ The worst of the pain was in my hands, which had taken the brunt of the impact. They felt as if they were on fire. I carefully turned them palm upwards. Where there had been skin, there was now a mixture of grit and blood. It was nasty and painful, but not serious. I carefully moved the various parts of my body, my arms, my legs, and was relieved when they all did what I wanted them to do. There was a large gash in my jeans and I could see a cut in my leg where the pedal of my bike had hit me. That wasn’t too bad either. It wasn’t even deep enough to need stitching. ‘Just tore my jeans and lost some skin on my hands.’ I quickly turned them over again so that I wouldn’t have to see them. My left wrist was painful – I had probably sprained it breaking my fall – but it was bearable and I could move it. ‘The bike got the worst of it.’
That was an understatement. The bike was a write-off. The front wheel was folded double and I thought that maybe the Mercedes had driven over it.
‘Let me have a look at your hands.’
I held them out to him.
He carefully turned them over and grimaced. ‘Let’s go to the hospital. Get those cleaned up.’ He wrapped his arm around my shoulder and helped me upright. ‘I’ll drive you.’
‘The hospital? Are you kidding me? We don’t have time for that.’
Two other cyclists came by and stopped. ‘Are you okay?’ one of them said. ‘Did this guy hit you with his car? Do you need help?’
‘I’m fine,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t him. He stopped to help me. The car that drove into me took off. It’s long gone.’
After various exclamations of disgust, they got back on their bikes and cycled away.
‘Did you see who was driving?’ Charlie said.
‘I’m pretty sure I know who it was.’ I plastered a fake smile on my face. ‘Do you want to come with me and arrest her?’ Of course I was shaken up after having come off my bike, but adrenaline would keep me going. I didn’t want to think about what could have happened if Charlie hadn’t arrived just in time.
‘Did it hit you on purpose?’
I remembered those tail lights coming on. ‘She would have reversed into me if you hadn’t turned up.’
‘Are you sure you won’t go to the hospital?’
‘And give her time to get rid of her car? Let’s go.’
‘You keep saying her. It wasn’t Dennis Klaver, then? I thought that maybe he’d followed you after you left there.’
‘No, I’m pretty sure it was his mother. Angela.’
‘What about your bike?’
I stared at the useless lump of metal. ‘Let’s leave it here. If someone wants it, they’re welcome to it.’
Charlie dragged it out of the road. Then he changed his mind, popped the car boot open and swung the bike’s skeleton inside. He opened the car door for me, and I even had to ask him to do my seat belt up because my hands refused to cooperate.
‘Where are we going?’ he asked.
I gave him the address. As we sped through Amsterdam’s streets, I called for backup. ‘You were really lucky,’ Charlie said after I’d disconnected the call.
‘I know. I heard her hit something before she clipped me. I managed to get out of the way. She must have waited for me outside Dennis’s flat.’
‘Do you think she killed her husband?’
‘Yes, I think she did. Stop here.’ From where we sat in the car, we had a perfect view of Angela Klaver’s front door. ‘We’ll keep an eye out, but we’ll wait for backup.’
A dark Mercedes was parked outside. It was the same car that I’d pulled Remco’s unconscious body out of. A large scratch ran along the hood on the right-hand side. It was from either the handlebar of my bike or maybe the pedal. The house was dark. There were no lights on.
‘I don’t think she’s here,’ Charlie said.
‘That’s the car that hit me.’
Charlie got out and I followed him. He studied the scratch, careful not to touch it. ‘With a bit of luck, we can match that up with your bike. And you were going to leave it behind to get stolen. That’s important evidence. It’s a good thing I was there.’
‘I’ll make sure I have a traffic cop with me every time I get into an accident,’ I said.
Just then, another car pulled up in front of the house and Dennis Klaver got out. He looked up at the dark window, then took a set of keys out of his pocket.
I thought that he looked back at me as he opened the front door to his mother’s house.
Chapter 38
‘What do you want to do?’ Charlie whispered.
‘Mum!’ I could hear Dennis shouting. The lights on the first floor came on.
‘Are you armed?’ I asked Charlie.
‘No. What are you thinking?’
I looked at my hands. I had my gun but I didn’t think I’d be able to use it. I could see that the front door was still open. Dennis had looked back at me. He’d left the door ajar on purpose, I was pretty sure of that. If this situation had come up a couple of days ago, I would definitely have stayed outside and waited, because I’d been convinced that Dennis and his mother were in it together. I would have suspected that she’d called him after she’d failed to kill me, and that I was going to walk into some kind of trap.
Now I wasn’t so sure.
I felt more secure for having Charlie here to
back me up, but I would have felt even better if I’d been able to hold my gun.
Did Dennis understand that his mother had been lying to him? Did he now know that his father hadn’t been innocent? Should I be worried for his mother’s life? But then why had he left the door open?
Was I supposed to stop him, as I should have stopped him ten years ago?
At that thought, it was no longer possible for me to stay outside. I walked up the path at the side of the house and approached the open front door.
I heard shouting as soon as I got into the house. Hand on my gun, because it made me feel safe even if I wouldn’t be able to aim it, I went up those stairs again.
Angela Klaver was cowering in the corner of the sofa. Dennis loomed over her, imposing like a bear raised on its hind legs. I was about to get in between them, but instead I paused, giving myself a few seconds to read the situation.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ he screamed. ‘You let me believe that he was innocent. And he was guilty all along.’ He made a visceral roaring noise and punched a cushion that rested on the side of the sofa. It was not so close to his mother as to make me want to interfere, but it felt as if things could tip at any minute. My muscles were tensed and I was ready to jump in as soon as it was needed. I had to be careful, though. This woman had tried to kill me earlier, but I shouldn’t let that cloud my judgement about what I was going to allow her son to do. If anything, I should err on the side of caution.
But I also wanted to let this play out. I wanted to hear what these two people were going to say to each other.
I was aware of Charlie behind me, and I motioned to him to stay back and keep quiet. He could act as my safety valve. He would let me take the lead on this, but if at any point he thought that my assessment of the situation was off, I expected him to say something. Do something even.
A Death in Rembrandt Square Page 24
