A Cold Case in Amsterdam Central

by Anja de Jager

  ‘Thanks,’ I said. I left her paging through my work history and ran a bath. It took a good ten minutes before I was warm again.

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Half asleep, I waved my arm above the duvet to chase the fly away. The buzzing didn’t stop. I sat up. It wasn’t a fly; my phone was ringing. The display light was flashing. The display said Tessa. It was 0.36 a.m. I’d only gone to bed half an hour ago.

  I picked it up. ‘What’s up?’ I rubbed my eyes to chase the sleep away.

  ‘Help!’ It was a scream. A screech. ‘Help me!’ I could hear the panic in her voice.

  The surge of extra blood through my veins pushed the hair on my arms upright. ‘Tessa, where are you?’

  ‘I’m at—’ The call cut off.

  My skin crawled. I kicked the duvet to the floor and swung my body out of bed. I forced my legs into my jeans, pressed the button to call her back whilst my good shoulder held my phone to my ear. ‘Tessa?’

  Nothing.

  I rang again. This time it went to voicemail. ‘Tessa, where are you? Call me back?’ I got dressed, then grabbed my car keys and handbag and ran down the stairs. I tore the door of my car open. I shoved the phone in the hands-free holder. Through the dark, I raced to her flat. Street lights flew by, hurling their circles of light on ashen asphalt. Traffic lights flashed their danger signs on amber. All other cars had bled away throughout the evening until now in the dead of night there were only empty roads.

  I made it to her block of flats. I slowed down but I didn’t see her. I came to a stop. It was now 0.53 a.m. Had Tessa’s mother been right? Had Tessa cracked and gone off the rails? Had I pushed her too hard as her mother had warned me? I rang her doorbell but there was no response. I rang again, held my finger on the buzzer for over five seconds, but deep down inside I knew it was pointless. I was just about to ring Eelke’s doorbell in case Tessa was at his place when, through the window in the front door, I saw a tall man with dark curls walking towards me. He was zipping up his coat as he left the building. I caught the door as he came through.

  ‘Police,’ I said, to justify myself, but he just shrugged and put his collar up with a sheepish grin on his face. I considered asking him for his name, but my worry about Tessa and his total unconcern when I announced that I was police told me not to bother.

  I ran down the corridor to Tessa’s flat. I banged on her front door with a fist. There was no answer. It would be worse if I was too late.

  ‘Tessa!’ I shouted. ‘Tessa, are you there?’ Nothing.

  I knew she wasn’t going to open. I went to Eelke’s flat. ‘Police, open up!’ I screamed at the top of my voice. My fist connected with the door. I heard stumbling inside. Then footsteps approaching. I stopped the banging and stood aside.

  Eelke opened the door wearing just pyjama bottoms. He was more muscular than he’d seemed in the tracksuit.

  ‘Is Tessa with you?’ I said.

  He scratched his head. Sleep was hanging from his eyes. ‘What?’

  ‘Have you seen her? She called me, screaming for help. I’m worried about her.’

  ‘Hold on.’ He grabbed a T-shirt that was on the arm of the sofa. Why would anybody get undressed in their front room? He picked up his mobile. ‘I’ve got no messages from her.’

  ‘Do you have her keys?’

  He hesitated.

  ‘Eelke, I’m worried she’s . . .’ I swallowed. ‘That’s she’s done something stupid.’

  ‘Oh shit.’ He suddenly seemed more awake. He opened a drawer and got a set of keys out. He didn’t put any shoes on but walked out in bare feet. I let him open Tessa’s front door, then pushed past him. Where to look first? Bathroom. Empty. Bedroom. Empty.

  ‘She’s not here,’ Eelke said. I could hear concern in his voice. He looked at the coat rack. ‘The jacket isn’t here. She’s been wearing it constantly.’

  ‘Frank’s jacket?’

  ‘Yeah. She must have gone out.’

  ‘Do you know where she could be?’

  He paused, then made a decision. ‘Yes. Let me get dressed. I’ll come with you.’

  Eelke and I drove back to the centre. The streets were still eerily quiet. ‘Where are we going?’ I said. I thought about calling for backup, but didn’t want to spook Eelke. He seemed on edge. He held his mobile phone tightly. Every now and then he threw a glance at it.

  ‘Take a left here,’ he said. His mobile pinged. He read the text and slumped down as far as his seat belt would allow him.

  ‘What’s up?’

  ‘I’d just hoped . . . Her mother hasn’t seen her either.’ He rubbed a hand over his eyes. ‘Next right, and then left at the lights.’ His voice was determined suddenly. As if he’d been re-energized by whatever he’d read in that text. ‘The last time she went through a bad patch, I found her there. On the floor of the toilets. Covered in puke.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘Before she met Frank. I’ve been worried about her too.’

  ‘She told me.’ The traffic light went red. I considered jumping it, but instead I stopped. ‘She mentioned you got back together.’

  ‘Is that what she said?’ His voice was bitter and I threw a quick glance at him, but he was looking straight ahead.

  ‘You haven’t?’

  ‘It’s not so great when someone shouts out your brother’s name. I guess I look enough like him.’

  I grimaced. ‘I’m sorry.’ The lights changed and I turned where Eelke indicated.

  ‘It was stupid.’

  What had Tessa’s words been? Either Eelke or alcohol. What if the sex had made her feel so bad she’d gone for the second alternative tonight? ‘When did you see her last?’

  ‘She came for a coffee after her mother had left. A pick-me-up to calm her down, she called it.’ He shrugged. ‘Her mother can have that effect on people.’

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘Here. Stop here.’ It was a dive of a pub, not the kind of place I’d normally go or where I would be comfortable having a drink. The windows were plastered with posters of heavy metal bands.

  At the door, Eelke paused. The green light of the pub’s sign made his face look pale under the red hair. With the dark shadows, his eyes were sunken like the holes in a skull. ‘Are you still investigating Frank’s death?’

  ‘We are,’ I said.

  ‘Frank shouldn’t have died. Those panels should have held his weight.’

  I narrowed my eyes and looked at him. He was right, but how did he know that? ‘If his death was an accident and you know what happened, you should tell me.’

  He took a couple of deep breaths. Whether it was because he was deciding to give me more or because he needed courage to step inside, I couldn’t tell.

  I waited, but he didn’t say anything else. I would push him later, but for now Tessa was my priority. I needed to get inside. ‘You don’t have to come,’ I said.

  He shook his head, then opened the door to a still-crowded bar.

  I checked my watch. 1.32 a.m. The noise level inside was deafening, as people shouted to make themselves heard above everyone else. The clientele here was mainly young. It made me feel ancient and also terribly conspicuous. About half of them seemed to have tattoos, both the men and the women. I scanned the area for any sign of Tessa. Nothing. I tapped Eelke on the shoulder. ‘I’ll check the toilets.’

  He nodded and moved towards the bar.

  In the ladies’, a dark-skinned girl was applying fire-engine-red lipstick. Her blonde-haired companion was rubbing her nose. Her pinprick pupils screamed that she hadn’t just been drinking.

  ‘Have you seen a brown-haired girl? Early twenties?’

  ‘Who are you? Her mother?’ The blonde moved towards me.

  I fished my badge from my handbag. The girl backed off.

  ‘She’s called Tessa Stapel,’ I said.

  The girl shrugged. ‘Never heard of her.’

  ‘Have seen so many brown-haired girls,’ her companion said.

&nbs
p; I pulled up Tessa’s Facebook profile on my phone and showed it to the girls. ‘That’s her.’

  ‘Sorry,’ the blonde girl said, ‘haven’t seen her.’ They both left, pretending not to rush.

  I pushed open the doors to all three stalls, but Tessa wasn’t there. When I got back to the bar, Eelke was holding a pint of beer in his hand. He had been absorbed by a group of men of his age.

  Two of them had shaved heads, including the one talking, with his back towards me. ‘I made this stupid woman jump into the canal the other day,’ he said.

  I recognized the tattoo. Coming here had been a seriously bad idea.

  Eelke was looking at the beer glass in his hand as if unsure how it came to be there. I took a deep breath, then joined the group and snatched the glass from him. I put it on the bar. ‘She’s not here,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’

  His eyes went from me to his drink.

  ‘Come on, Eelke. Please. We need to keep looking.’

  The man with the tattoo grabbed hold of my arm. ‘I recognize you. You look a lot cuter in your pyjamas.’

  ‘Shut up.’ I pulled my arm free. ‘Eelke, let’s go.’

  Tattoo took a firmer hold of my wrist. ‘I don’t care who you are, but my friend is staying here.’

  My heart was racing. With my free hand I got my badge out, hoping it would work as well with him as it had done with the girls in the toilet.

  Tattoo released me. ‘He doesn’t want to go.’

  People were pushing against my back, making room for a woman with a round of drinks elbowing her way from the bar to where her friends were standing.

  ‘You should leave,’ Eelke said calmly. His voice was clear over the background noise. He took his glass from the bar. ‘If Tessa wanted to be found, she would have come here.’ He drank half the pint in one gulp. It was as definite as if he’d stepped off a roof terrace on the seventh floor of a building. ‘We’ll get through it together again. You’ll see. Her problems are my problems.’

  ‘This is stupid. Don’t do this.’

  ‘This is what I want. Just go. There’s no point any more,’ he said. He took the jenever chaser that stood ready for him and downed it in one. ‘I was with him.’

  Tattoo laughed loudly, just as he’d done when he’d thrown Pippi into the canal. I wanted to get to Eelke, but Tattoo stepped in front of me and blocked my route. He pushed his face in my space. ‘What are you going to do? He wants to stay here and get drunk. There are no laws against that, are there?’

  I felt sick, because he was right. There were no laws against an alcoholic deliberately getting drunk. ‘Who were you with, Eelke? With your brother?’

  Tattoo pushed me out of the bar and I didn’t resist. It was better to leave now and get someone to come and help me. Through the window, I saw Eelke pick up another pint, as though he was on autopilot, while he stared at his phone in the other hand. Reading another text. I remembered that he had opened the door to Tessa’s flat. He had the keys. He could easily have put that leather jacket back. He knew about the glass panels and he’d possibly admitted he was with his brother.

  I called Thomas. Even though it was after 2 a.m., he answered his mobile at the second ring. I apologized for calling at this time but he replied that he was still working anyway.

  ‘Can you come here with some backup?’ I said. I gave him the name of the bar. Inside, Eelke was texting, then he picked up another jenever chaser and downed it. ‘We need to arrest Eelke Stapel on suspicion of the murder of his brother.’

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Tessa’s mother came to the police station around eight o’clock the next morning. I’d called her. We were still waiting for Eelke’s lawyer to turn up. He probably wouldn’t be here until nine, and then he would need some time to talk to his client. I hadn’t been surprised that Eelke had demanded a lawyer as soon as Thomas and I dragged him out of that bar. The main surprise had been that his friends hadn’t put up much of a fight. He had also mysteriously lost his phone.

  The leather strap of Vanessa Koning’s handbag folded double under the pressure of her now white fingers.

  ‘Thanks for coming in. Come through.’

  ‘Tessa sent me a text last night.’ Her eyes closed for a second. ‘I’m worried. It said she was going to sort it all out.’

  I frowned. ‘Sort what out?’

  ‘Who knows. I’ve just come from Eelke’s flat. He didn’t answer. I’m afraid.’ She rubbed the line between her eyebrows with the palm of her hand, as if that would smooth it out. ‘I’m afraid he’s drinking again.’

  I didn’t say that I knew where he was. ‘And Tessa?’

  Vanessa put her handbag on the table. The logo was pointing towards me. I didn’t recognize it but I understood that I was supposed to. It was understated, a small picture of a tree stamped into the leather. ‘Eelke was probably out all night looking for her.’

  ‘Did he say how he knew she was missing?’

  ‘No, but he texted me to ask if I knew where she was.’

  Those must have been the texts he was sending from my car. ‘She called me last night. In distress.’

  Vanessa closed her eyes. ‘Was she drunk?’ She sounded resigned.

  I shook my head. ‘It didn’t sound as if she was.’ When she’d screamed ‘Help! Help me!’ it had been the voice of someone in trouble, not the sound of someone who was drunk.

  ‘She wrote on Facebook last night,’ her mother said. ‘She wrote: I just want to die.’ She covered her mouth with her hand. Her eyes glistened with tears. ‘Can you look out for her? I’m so worried that she’s tried to kill herself again.’

  ‘Have you tried the hospitals?’

  ‘Yes, she’s nowhere. Her flat is empty too.’

  ‘Show me the text she sent you.’

  She held her mobile out. The text had come in at 00.12. That was almost half an hour before she’d called me. Gonna sort it all out.

  ‘Maybe something to do with Frank’s death?’ I said.

  Vanessa shook her head. ‘He just had an accident.’

  ‘Did she talk to you? About the skeleton?’

  ‘She didn’t talk to me at all. But that’s what she had you for. To come round and talk to her.’

  ‘I interviewed her.’

  ‘You helped her with the cards, were so supportive, but really you missed that she couldn’t cope.’

  ‘Vanessa—’

  ‘I tried to call her all night. I think she’s killed herself. That’s her way of sorting things out.’ She closed her eyes. ‘After Frank died, I worried this was going to happen. That she was going to end it.’ Her voice was soft. ‘We’ll keep trying the bars. But when you find her . . . somewhere else . . . can you call me? Straight away?’

  ‘Of course.’ Sometimes people took an overdose and changed their minds. Called us, called for an ambulance. Realized they’d made a mistake. But Tessa’s call last night had not been like that. She’d been about to tell me where she was when the call had cut off. So unless she’d dropped the phone, there had been someone else with her.

  Ingrid and Thomas were looking at me as I stepped through the door. The sudden silence told me what the topic of conversation had been.

  I sat at my desk. I started up my PC.

  ‘Lotte,’ Ingrid said.

  I looked up.

  ‘She . . .’ Ingrid’s voice trailed off. She looked at Thomas. He remained silent, didn’t answer her plea. ‘She wrote on her Facebook page. Look here.’ She turned the screen towards me. Tessa’s smiling face. The last posting: I’ve been wrong about everything. I just want to die.

  ‘Remember when we interviewed her?’ Thomas said. ‘She cut herself with that Stanley knife. She was self-harming.’

  Tessa, at the table, cutting her thumb, looking at the blood that welled up. I shook my head against the memory. ‘How come you can see her page?’ I asked Ingrid.

  ‘It’s on her timeline.’

  ‘We’ve put her description out to all cars,’ Thom
as said.

  My eyes were burning. My throat was swollen; it felt so thick I could hardly swallow. Thomas put an arm around my shoulder. My instinct was to recoil, but his proximity was unexpectedly calming. ‘She screamed, Thomas.’

  ‘You’re a mess,’ he said, but his voice was gentle. ‘I know you like the girl.’

  ‘I’m worried I pushed her too hard.’

  ‘She could just have drunk herself into a stupor.’ His eyes looked straight into mine.

  I shook my head. ‘I went to see her last night. Yesterday evening really. We talked.’

  ‘About . . . ?’

  ‘About the leather jacket.’

  ‘How was she when you left?’

  ‘Not suicidal.’

  ‘You could judge that?’ Ingrid said.

  ‘I’m not an expert, but yes, I can tell if someone is about to kill themselves. She was fine when I left. Her mother came.’

  ‘After you’d gone?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So maybe it’s the mother who drove her to it.’

  ‘The first time I talked to her, at Centraal station, she said, “It’s so unfair.” Now she’s saying, “I just want to die.” It’s teenage talk.’

  ‘She wasn’t a teenager.’

  ‘You know what I mean. Whatever they call it when you’ve moved into your twenties. It’s just how young women speak. It doesn’t mean she’s killed herself.’

  I left to get some coffee. Halfway down the corridor, the boss called me into his office.

  ‘What happened, Lotte? What happened with this girl?’ He was standing at the window, staring at the raindrops that were falling again. He had his hands in his pockets.

  ‘She’s missing,’ I said. ‘I’m concerned.’

  ‘The parents are voicing some very strong allegations.’ The grey of the clouds was only a little lighter than the dark grey of the CI’s suit. He scratched the back of his head.

  ‘All I did was talk to her yesterday evening. She knew something.’

  ‘You pushed her too far. Why didn’t you take Ingrid with you?’

  ‘It was evening. It was on an impulse. To have a chat.’