He was out the door but stuck his head back in.
‘And I also put something else on there, a little extra.’
She looked down, and sure enough, on the bandage which was now covering the wound, there were scrawled a name and phone number.
As she pulled into the street where Arend had his workshop, searching for number 19 among the small industrial units, the sun lifted above the building at the end of the road, making her grab for the sun visor.
After Geertje’s call yesterday evening all the fear that she’d felt before flooded back. She’d known there had been a child, but Bloem hadn’t taken her seriously. And thinking about it, maybe that was her fault, maybe she should have pushed it more, stood her ground, not let him waste most of her day with what amounted to little more than stupid errands.
An oily crow jabbed at something on the road, then launched itself into the air.
She found 19 and pulled the car to a stop just outside. Frost covered the concrete and she could hear the sound of a saw, buzzing somewhere off to her left.
The man who swung the door open – the metal screeching along the concrete floor – was short, shorter than her, with a head of loose black curls, and a jumper so splattered in what looked like mud it was hard to tell what colour it had started out.
‘Arend?’
‘Yeah, you must be Sergeant van der Mark? Come in.’
She followed him down a corridor into a wide-open room, the glass ceiling saturating the area with light.
‘So you’re a potter?’ she asked, making sense of all the equipment, and the two kilns at the far end of the room.
‘Yeah, hardly anyone does this kind of thing by hand any more, but you get such a superior finish that machine-made just doesn’t do.’ He picked up a round, delicate black bowl and handed it to Tanya, the swooping curves reminding her of a tulip with wilting petals.
‘I started about eight years ago, just me on my own, and now I’ve had to take on two apprentices to help with the work load.’
‘Beautiful.’ She handed it back. But she was not here to look at pottery.
As if reading her mind he placed it down and said, ‘But you’re not here for this. When Geertje told me about your visit yesterday … It made me remember about seeing them with this child, and I thought it was strange but then kind of forgot about it. I mean, we didn’t really know them, they could have been looking after someone else’s kid, or maybe a grandchild of theirs, though we thought they didn’t have children. So it wasn’t really any of my business.’ He picked a bit of clay off his sleeve, and crumbled it between forefinger and thumb. ‘But then when Geertje told me about your conversation …’ He shook his head. ‘I hope that they were just looking after her for the day. It would be terrible if she’d died in the fire as well.’
‘We’re pretty sure that she didn’t.’ She looked across at one of the kilns, the mouth revealing a deep, orange glow inside. ‘But that means that we need to find out who she was. Where exactly did you see them?’
‘There’s that cafe, on Gouverneursplein? The one by the art gallery?’
She knew the place, it was where she’d told Wilhelm that things weren’t working out between them.
It had not been a pretty scene.
‘I’d just dropped off a new piece for a customer round there on Saturday and saw them coming out. At first I didn’t recognize them, I guess the fact they had a child threw me, but as I walked past I could tell it was them.’
‘Did you talk to them?’
She could hear footsteps behind her, coming towards them.
‘No, it was weird, it was like they’d seen me and didn’t want to be noticed. I mean, we hardly knew them, but even so, we’re kind of the only neighbours they’ve got …’ He shrugged, then greeted the owner of the footsteps, who walked over to the right-hand kiln. ‘But, who knows, I guess they were just really private people.’
‘What time was this?’
‘Would have been about ten, ten-thirty?’
‘And you’re sure the child was with them?’
He nodded. ‘No doubt. Eva van Delft was doing her coat up for her.’
‘And what did she, the child I mean, look like?’
‘I couldn’t really see her face, her coat had one of those hoods with fur all around the rim, but I’m pretty sure she had red hair, like yours, kind of long.’
Bloem’s going to have to listen to me now, she thought, a tendril of excitement wrapping round her stomach,
‘Anything else noticeable about her? What sort of age do you think she was?’
He screwed his eyes up, before opening them again.
‘About five or six I’d say, same as my two.’
‘Can you think of anyone who’d want to burn down their house?’
He shook his head before answering.
‘No, I mean, we didn’t really know them so it’s not like we even knew who their friends were, let alone any enemies.’
Arend’s colleague dropped something; the loud clatter made them both jump.
‘So you think they had friends?’
‘Well …’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘… now you mention it, not really.’
She thanked him and made her way back to her car. As soon as she got moving her phone went.
Bloem.
‘I thought I told you to check this,’ he said when she answered.
‘Check what?’
‘The house, who owned it.’
‘You didn’t.’
‘Well, I did. But anyway, I’ve done it now and it turns out the Van Delfts were only renting, so I need you to go and talk to their landlord.’
‘Listen, I’ve had confirmation that the Van Delfts had a child with them over the weekend, so I really think we need –’
‘Just go and talk to this guy, I’ve spoken to him and he’s expecting you. And come back here when you’re done.’
He gave her the address on the east side of town, which Tanya was pretty sure did live sex shows.
Surprised he didn’t want to go there himself, she thought as she hung up and swung the car around.
As she pulled into the half-empty car park ten minutes later, crushed beer cans littering the ground like miniature ships on a grey frozen sea, she spotted a guy, beer gut bulging under his tight designer T-shirt.
Her dashboard thermometer read one degree; maybe it was the hair on his arms, so hairy he appeared to be at least two steps back down the evolutionary ladder, that allowed him to go outside without more on.
Once she’d parked he ambled over, she lowered the passenger side window, and he introduced himself as Saar Kloots. He looked like the kind of guy who would leer at her whilst she was out with friends.
I can’t even remember the last time I went out with them all, she thought.
Not wanting to go inside to talk she reluctantly leant across and opened the passenger door. He got in, bringing both the cold and a strong aftershave, polluting the entire airspace in the car within seconds. True to form his eyes slid up and down her body – a reptile on a rock – before he settled into the seat, legs splayed as wide as was possible, nudging the gearstick.
‘Work?’ asked Tanya, nodding towards the club, a red neon sign advertising ‘Live Sex’ pulsing above the door.
‘Purely pleasure,’ he grinned. ‘I have someone who looks after the day-to-day running of my properties, so I’ve got more leisure time than I used to.’ He coughed a tight cough and continued. ‘What happened?’
‘We’re not too sure at the moment, but the building went up in flames sometime yesterday, and the Van Delfts didn’t make it out in time.’
‘Do you know how the fire was started?’
‘Not yet.’
‘I’m going to have to get on to my insurance people. Have you got some kind of report that I can give them?’
‘My main interest is in the two people who died there,’ she said trying to get as much reproach in her voice as possible. He didn’t seem to
care that two people had burnt to death in one of his houses. ‘What can you tell me about them? How long have they been there?’
‘I can’t really remember, about three or so years I reckon. But I’ve been having problems with them. Serious problems.’
‘Really?’
‘Non-payment of rent. And that totally fucks me off, I mean I’m not a charity, I’ve got to pay the mortgage on that place, and if they don’t pay the rent I can’t. Leaves me in a bad position.’
‘So what did you do?’
‘First I dropped in on them, just for a friendly chat’ – Tanya had her doubts – ‘and when things didn’t get better I had to get my lawyers involved. We’re actually due to go to court next month, get this settled once and for all.’
‘Did they have a child?’
A man walking past on the pavement turned to stare at them. She could read in his eyes and the slight smile which tugged at the corners of his mouth he’d pegged them as a couple having an argument.
Girlfriend-catching-boyfriend-at-sleazy-sex-joint.
‘You know, now that you mention it, I remember. There was a child there, a little girl, I asked them about her and they were kind of coy about it. But I pushed them, they hadn’t mentioned anything about having a kid when we signed the tenancy agreement.’
‘And what did they say?’
‘That they’d only recently adopted her.’
Adopted. The word hit her like a boulder. The doll had been for an adopted daughter. So where was she now?
‘Maybe they torched it on purpose, just to get back at me.’ Kloots’ voice broke into her thoughts, a kernel of anger in his voice.
‘And killed themselves as well? Sounds like that would be more of a favour to you?’
‘Point taken.’ He reached down and scratched his crotch slowly, his overlong nails sounding like they were shredding the denim. ‘Maybe they got caught up in it by accident?’
‘I’ll need to talk to your lawyers about this, but if you think of anything else let me know.’
‘Yeah, okay.’ He opened the door and swung a foot out. ‘Don’t suppose you want to join me for a drink inside?’
Tanya stared at him until he swung out the other foot and stood up.
‘Okay, I get the message,’ she heard as he slammed the door shut.
By the time she made it back Bloem wasn’t around so she looked up adoption agencies. There was a local branch in Leeuwarden, which she called, but a recorded message told her that it was closed and to direct all enquiries to the Central Adoption Agency in Amsterdam. The recorded message didn’t extend the courtesy of telling her the number, so she had to search online.
Bloem came in just as she’d managed to speak to someone who was able to confirm that they had the Van Delfts on their system, but that if she wanted more info they’d have to pull the file.
‘Van der Mark, in here.’
Bloem indicated the incident room.
She joined him, the air of the room dense with stale sweat.
‘What have you got?’
‘I spoke to the landlord, and he said they did have a girl, they’d adopted, and I just got off the phone from the adoption agency in Amsterdam, they have the Van Delfts on file.’
‘And there was no trace at the scene, we’re sure she wasn’t just … burned up?’
‘I asked the forensics several times, they said no. I think we should put it out there.’
‘With what, a vague description of a young girl without a name? Unless you got that info from the adoption agency?’
‘They wouldn’t give it to me over the phone, some child protection legislation, but they said if I go in person, with a warrant, they can let me have a look.’
He stared at her.
‘I just don’t buy it. Why would someone kill them and take the child?’
The door opened and Lankhorst walked in.
‘Where are we up to?’
Bloem cleared his throat.
‘We’re concentrating on finding out who actually started the fire. I can’t find any reason why someone would want to murder these two, they were just an old couple who kept themselves to themselves. I think we need to look at the possibility that it might have been suicide.’
‘Do you really think they’d tie themselves up though?’ she asked. Bloem shot her a look.
‘I don’t believe any rope was found?’
‘No, but the position of their arms, they couldn’t have just lain there like that by accident.’
Bloem just glared at her.
Lankhorst turned to Tanya. ‘And the kid? Where are we at?’
‘They adopted, I’m going to go to Amsterdam to try and get a name, and I’ll meet with Inspector Rykel, the one who knew Haak?’ she felt Bloem’s eyes might actually start a fire on her skin.
‘What kind of age was she?’
‘About five or six, it seems.’
‘Check the schools, see if the name Van Delft comes up. Update me before I leave today. Anything else?’
They both shook their heads, Lankhorst left, and Tanya headed towards the door in his wake.
‘Sergeant van der Mark.’ She turned back to see Bloem lounging back in his chair, twirling a pen between his fingers. ‘A word of advice, I’m going to be in his position soon, so if you want to get ahead …’
He cupped himself through his jeans with his spare hand, and stared at her.
Why are men such assholes? she wondered as she held his gaze for a few beats, then turned and left.
22
Tuesday, 3 January
10.11
Jaap felt the tension in the room as soon as he stepped into Smit’s office.
What’s the matter with him? Jaap wondered as he watched Smit stride from the window and assume the throne behind his desk.
He didn’t invite Jaap to sit.
‘Is there something I should know, about Andreas?’ Smit’s voice confirmed something was wrong.
‘I … I don’t know what you mean.’
‘What I mean is …’ Smit leant forward. ‘Does he have any “extra-curricular” activities that I should be worried about? Because I just gave a press conference and a lunatic journalist from a tabloid asked me if Andreas was into child porn.’
‘What?’
‘And if I’ve been out there’ – he jabbed a finger towards the corridor – ‘waxing lyrical about an officer who turns out to have been a rotten apple then the repercussions for everyone in this department are going to be severe.’
‘I’ve no idea what’s going on, Andreas wasn’t into por—’
‘Are you sure? I’ve got his record here, and about five years ago he ran a child porn case, and I’m wondering if he acquired a taste for it.’
‘No way.’ Jaap shook his head. ‘There is no way that Andreas was into that.’ His voice rising but he couldn’t help it. ‘And I can’t believe you’d even consider it. Who was this journalist?’
‘Now that I’m not going to tell you – if you start putting pressure on a journalist then this thing is going to be worse than it already is. And I want to stress that you’re not to be involved in the investigation in any way. You have your own investigation to run and if I find that you’re getting in De Waart’s way’ – his voice raised, his eyes like bullets – ‘your career is going to take a swift trip down the shithole, is that clear?’
A car horn blared from the street below.
Andreas is being buried on Friday, Jaap thought, and now this.
‘I really –’
‘Is,’ said Smit emphasizing each word like he was chipping them from stone, ‘that clear, Inspector Rykel?’
23
Tuesday, 3 January
10.59
Kees kicked a can, which skittered across the bricks and over the edge into the canal. He heard it hit ice.
After they’d left Korssen, Jaap had fobbed him off with the jobs of interviewing Friedman’s ex-wife, checking up on Korssen’s alibi with his lady friend,
Heleen de Kok, and, worst of all, trying to find out who Friedman’s dining partner had been. De Kok wasn’t answering her phone, but he did manage to track Friedman’s ex to an address in Haarlem. Which meant at least an hour’s drive. The restaurant wasn’t open this early so he’d have to leave that till later.
Typical, he gives me the shit jobs, just like all the others, he thought as he made his way to the car pool, which was fifty metres away from the station on Prinsengracht. But just as he got there his phone rang, Smit requesting an immediate meeting.
‘Kees, good of you to come,’ said Smit as Kees arrived.
What the fuck’s he talking about, wondered Kees as he sat in the chair indicated by Smit’s plump hand, he’s the one who ordered me here?
‘My pleasure, sir.’
‘Tinged with a bit of disappointment, no doubt?’ Smit lowered himself into his chair – hands on the arm rests, elbows in the air – as if his backside were made of porcelain and needed to be treated with care. ‘A young Inspector like you would have been hoping to take that case on himself.’
‘Well, yeah, I did figure Jaap would be pulled from it, given the circumstances.’
Smit nodded slowly, as if Kees had just said something profound.
‘It isn’t about ego, this job.’
Kees hid his disbelief; the man sitting in front of him was reputed to have the largest ego in Amsterdam.
‘It’s about making sure the guilty are brought to justice in the quickest way possible, it’s about teamwork, it’s about results.’
Where’s he going with all this crap? Kees nodded, feigning interest.
‘I’ve been looking over your file.’ He picked up a folder from his desk and flipped through it. ‘Great results, near the top of your class at the Netherlands Police Academy, and excellent references supporting your transfer here. Settling in well?’
That was just because they wanted rid of me.
‘Yes, thank you, sir.’
Smit put down the folder and adjusted it so it squared with the edge of the desk.
‘You know, when it comes to progressing in the police force, all these things’ – he waved his hand over the folder as if trying to disperse a noxious scent – ‘are a great start, but they are only the start. I read your reasons for transferring, that you thought you were able to contribute more in an urban setting, meaning, presumably, that where you were things were a bit slow?’
After the Silence: Inspector Rykel Book 1 (Amsterdam Quartet) Page 10
