"Rammy," he said suddenly. "Rammy was my tool. I willed him into throwing that knife. I gave him the knife. It was my own knife. I had kept it in a box, nobody knew I had it. I worked on Rammy for a long time, told him his sister was evil. A whore. A witch. He had to kill her. lb keep the world clean. He knew where she lived, he had been there once, a long time ago. He hated her, he was jealous of her. She was a real child of his father, he wasn't. Jealousy makes people very easy to handle.
"My wife forgave me," Drachtsma said. "Do you forgive me, commissaris?"
"Yes," the commissaris said.
"There are others, too many others. Rammy is one of them. I can't ask them. And there is no other chance, I would like to have another chance."
Drachtsma drank more tea.
"Shon Wancho," the commissaris said.
Drachtsma's eyes opened again.
"The witch doctor," Drachtsma said. "Yes."
"Did you know him?"
Drachtsma shook his head. "No. I never went to . I didn't want to go and I don't think she wanted me to either."
"What do you think? Is he an evil man?"
Drachtsma shook his head. "No. Not evil."
"A good man?"
"Yes," Drachtsma said. "He warned her. She told me he warned her. She talked about him in her sleep."
"So what did she learn from Shon Wancho?" the commissaris asked.
"Insight," Drachtsma said and coughed. "Just insight."
"And she had to find out what to do with it?"
"Yes. Magical insight. Strong. Can be used the wrong way. She did."
"What happens if you use it the wrong way?" de Gier asked. He couldn't help asking it. He would have preferred to sit quietly, waiting for the ordeal to be over.
"If you use it wrong," Drachtsma said slowly, "you go wrong."
There seemed nothing else to say and the commissaris looked at Mrs. Drachtsma and pointed at the door with his head.
"Yes, commissaris," Mrs. Drachtsma said.
De Gier was at the door when Drachtsma called him. He walked back and bowed down to the slack body in the large bed. The white hand came up slowly and closed on de Gier's wrist.
"Don't win," Drachtsma said. "To try to win is childish."
De Gier wanted to go but the hand held his wrist.
"Sergeant," Drachtsma whispered.
"Yes, Mr. Drachtsma."
"Don't ever try to win. You are still young. You can unlearn a lot."
"Yes, Mr. Drachtsma," de Gier said.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born and raised in Amsterdam, Janwillem van de Wetering moved to South Africa when he was nineteen. After living and working there for six years he went to London, where he studied philosophy for a year. From London he went to Kyoto, Japan, and lived in a zen monastery for the next two years. His travels next took him to Peru and Colombia in South America, where he got married and spent three years. From South America he went to Australia for a year and then returned to Amsterdam. He went into business and joined the Amsterdam Reserve Police force, where he swiftly rose through the ranks. Van de Wetering and his wife moved to Maine nearly twenty years ago and still make their home there.
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