‘And that must have really thrown the poor guy off balance. Enough to make him kill himself in disgust at having been played all that time.’
I was suddenly reminded that Carol had mentioned Andre talking about a chain of abuse. His relationship with Laurens must have felt like that in hindsight. Thinking about Carol also made me remember her saying that she’d had a pact with Andre about suicide; that he had promised he would call her if things got too much.
I wondered if he’d ever made an agreement like that with someone else.
Someone he’d called really early in the morning. Someone he’d hoped would stop him.
Someone who’d had a reason not to come when he called.
Then another thought popped into my head. What if it was someone who had come?
We needed to go back to the hotel. Maybe someone had seen Laurens Werda that day.
The Hotel Mondrian was quiet this afternoon. A couple in thick winter coats, a little too thick for the weather, were sitting in the lounge area. I guessed they were waiting for others to join them, to go out sightseeing. A young man in a suit was staring intently at his laptop screen at a table in the corner. On the opposite side, a woman pushed a trolley piled high with cleaning products. It was that time of day. She turned a corner and went into the ladies’.
‘Wait for me here,’ I said to Charlie, and followed the cleaner. Because I’d recognised her. She wasn’t wearing a pale green scarf this time, but one with a gold and orange swirled pattern. She was a block of colour in the otherwise stark surroundings of the hotel.
I pushed the door to the ladies’ open. The cleaner was an unpleasant reminder to me of that morning. Of how I’d felt when I’d seen Andre Nieuwkerk. Only a week ago, I had doubted his identity. How far we’d come since then, and how little had we achieved.
I could tell from the way she looked at me that she recognised me too. She made eye contact, then dropped the hand holding the cleaning cloth to rest it on the basin in front of her. ‘I saw,’ she said.
I met her eyes in the mirror. ‘What did you see?’
‘I saw on TV. That man, he was famous?’
Famous? He was now, I guessed. Famous for having died twice. No, for having been declared dead twice. There was nothing like a mystery combined with police failings to capture the imagination of the press.
That morning, the cleaner had made sure not to look into the room. She had looked at the floor in front of her.
Almost as if she knew what was inside.
That didn’t mean anything. This was a hotel. Guests died in their rooms; maybe not frequently, but it wasn’t as if it had never happened before.
After all, there had been two police detectives in the hallway.
No, she couldn’t have known that. Charlie and I hadn’t been in uniform; we could have been normal guests, accompanied by the manager. We could have just forgotten our key.
I rested my hip against the basin. ‘What did you see?’ I said again. ‘When did you see him?’
She grabbed a bottle of detergent and sprayed the glass, blurring my face.
‘Did you see his body? Did you find him?’
She rubbed the mirror as if it was her enemy. That first morning, it had been the street cleaner who had called an ambulance.
‘Why didn’t you call the police?’ I said.
‘He did.’
‘Who did?’
‘Manager. He called you.’
‘He called us after you’d opened the door. After you’d seen the dead body.’
She went back to rubbing her cloth over the glass.
‘You were the one who found him?’
She shook her head but didn’t stop cleaning. ‘The manager did.’
‘Did you take anything? Was there anything in his room?’
‘He was dead. We called you.’
‘Did you take anything?’ I asked again. ‘Did you find a note?’
‘No. We didn’t take anything. There was no note.’ She said it softly.
‘If only the CCTV hadn’t broken.’
The cleaner scoffed. ‘Wasn’t broken. It’s a fake. They’re all fake. To keep down cost. He has installed real ones now.’
‘Just in that corridor?’
‘No, all. All was easier, he said.’ She stopped cleaning and looked at me via the mirror. ‘Don’t tell him I said so. I’ll lose my job.’
‘I won’t.’
‘I was sad,’ she said, ‘because he was a nice man.’
‘A nice man? How did you know that?’
‘I talked to him on Saturday. I let him in; he’d lost his key.’ She rubbed her forehead. ‘I let him back into his room because I recognised him. He left me a big tip. Then I found him dead.’
‘He’d lost his key? Did you have to make him a new one?’
‘No, the second one was in his room. Guests always have two keys.’
‘And you said this was Saturday?’
‘Yes, Saturday morning. Maybe eight o’clock? Half past eight?’
‘Thank you,’ I said. ‘Thank you for telling me.’
She went back to wiping the mirrors.
On my way out of the ladies’, I bumped into the hotel manager. ‘How’s your CCTV now?’ I said. ‘All fixed?’
‘Yes.’ He smiled his super-professional smile. ‘It’s working perfectly again now.’
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that I knew they’d been fakes previously. It would have been satisfying to wipe the smile off his face. The only reason I didn’t was because the cleaner reminded me of the street cleaner that first morning, the man who had called the police when everybody else had ignored the slumped body of Peter de Waal. However my decisions that morning had worked out, that man had done a brave thing in the face of his fear. Just like the hotel cleaner had been brave to tell me. She needn’t have done. She could have kept quiet.
Keeping quiet was so often the easy solution. Keeping quiet about someone having been beaten up; keeping quiet about your boss being the first person to open the door to a hotel room and find a dead man; keeping quiet about interviewing a suspect and noticing his hands.
I knew only too well how difficult it was to speak out. I knew how it could make your life so much harder. I could only imagine what would happen to the cleaner if I didn’t control my tongue right now. If I did anything other than smile.
I shouldn’t make life unnecessarily difficult for the people with the guts to speak out.
‘I’m glad to hear that,’ I said to the manager. ‘Having working CCTV is really important.’
I walked away so that I didn’t need to hear his response, found Charlie and tapped him on the arm. ‘Let’s go,’ I said.
‘Didn’t you want to talk to the manager?’
‘Nope,’ I said. ‘Don’t need to talk to him any more.’
‘What happened?’
‘Let’s go,’ I repeated, ‘and I’ll fill you in.’
Once outside, I told Charlie about the CCTV.
‘Leave it with me,’ he said.
I liked the determined look on his face as he scanned the other buildings on the street.
My phone rang. It was Ingrid. I hesitated before picking up, but there was no point in avoiding her.
‘What the fuck?’ she screamed. ‘We had to let him go because of you.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. Having just done the same with Laurens, I understood only too well how upset she must be.
‘You know he most likely did this, don’t you?’
‘You know he didn’t.’
‘He was there, Lotte. He was in the vicinity of the Lange Niezel on the night of the assault.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘His mobile phone. He was there.’
I pulled my hair away from my face. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that last night?’
‘Why didn’t you just trust me?’
I started to say again that I was sorry, but she’d disconnected the call.
Chapt
er 35
I went straight to the traffic department when I got back to the police station. Mehmet was at his desk and gave me a huge smile. ‘Thanks, Lotte,’ he said. ‘They let Erol out.’
‘We need to talk to him,’ I said. ‘Right now.’
‘Why?’
‘Did you know that he was actually there that night? You’re coming with me. Let’s clear up this mess.’
‘He was there?’ Mehmet said. ‘Shit.’
‘Call him,’ I said. ‘Tell him we’re coming to his place right now.’
To be fair, Mehmet didn’t argue. He made the call.
When we got to Erol’s flat, he didn’t seem pleased to see me, but at least he didn’t look as if he wanted to beat me up. It was interesting that I’d tried so hard to get justice for someone I didn’t particularly like.
‘Thanks,’ he said with seeming reluctance. ‘My lawyer said your testimony made all the difference.’
‘You should have taken photos of your hands as soon as we’d been to see you. As soon as I told you to.’
Erol smiled. It changed his face. ‘I’ll know for next time. Instead I had a detective testify for me. That was a first.’
‘If you’re so grateful,’ I said, ‘you can tell us what happened that night. You were there.’
He folded his arms. The shutters came down again. ‘I had nothing to do with the assault.’
‘They’ve got your phone at the location.’
‘I didn’t beat him up.’ Erol sighed. ‘I don’t want anything bad to happen to them. I never went to their house. I didn’t harass them. I didn’t do most of the things they said I did.’
‘But they got a restraining order.’ I was puzzled.
‘Based on no evidence whatsoever. I didn’t send Peter de Waal anonymous emails. I never said I was going to kill him.’
‘You sure?’ Mehmet leaned forward. ‘You never sent threatening emails?’
‘Never.’
‘Did you make any threats towards them at all?’ he asked.
Erol pulled both hands through his hair. ‘I really don’t think I should tell you any of this.’
‘All these things are on record,’ I said. ‘According to your file, you’ve done them all already anyway. Tell me what you did do.’
Erol frowned. ‘Okay. The only time I said I was going to kill him was when I signed the divorce papers. He was there with Caroline, being all smug, and just got on my nerves.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘To be honest,’ he said to Mehmet, ‘if you hadn’t held me back, I probably would have punched him.’
Mehmet had neglected to tell me about that. So forgetful, that man. He must be closer to his cousin than he had implied.
‘But I didn’t do any of the other things. I didn’t send any anonymous emails. I didn’t stuff dog shit through their letter box either. I didn’t break their windows.’ He looked me in the eye. ‘And I didn’t beat the living daylights out of him. Peter came to pay me a visit. All friendly like. We had a chat. I thought it cleared the air but then they started claiming I’d been harassing them.’ He sighed. ‘I’ve kept my distance and he still got me anyway, didn’t he?’
‘Your phone,’ I repeated. ‘They’ve got you at the scene of the assault.’
Erol scratched the back of his head and pulled a face.
Mehmet pointed to me with a thumb. ‘You can trust her. She testified for you.’
‘Trust? She’s still a police officer. It’s in her best interests to turn me in as soon as she gets a chance.’
‘Believe me,’ I said, ‘I really don’t want to see you arrested again. But help me out here.’
‘Okay, yeah, I was there.’
My jaw tightened as my teeth locked together. I had to force myself to relax. ‘You were there?’ I knew I sounded incredulous. I threw an angry look at Mehmet, even though it wasn’t really his fault.
‘I didn’t beat him up,’ Erol said quickly. ‘I came around the corner and I saw a group of guys kicking a man on the floor. They took his stuff and ran.’
‘You saw it?’
‘There were four of them.’ He fell silent.
‘Then what?’
‘Then … I realised that the victim was Peter and I walked away.’
‘For fuck’s sake, Erol.’ Mehmet’s sharp voice took me by surprise. ‘You walked away?’
‘I know, I should have called an ambulance, but … I knew he’d try to lay it on me. I never harassed them, and I didn’t want to get involved.’
I kept my temper under control. I didn’t say that he’d been a coward, unlike the street cleaner. There was no point in going on about what was morally right and wrong. Instead I focused on what was useful. ‘You saw them?’ I said. ‘The guys who did this, you actually saw them?’
Erol nodded.
‘Any chance you recognised them?’
‘I took their number plate.’
‘You fucking idiot,’ Mehmet said. ‘Why didn’t you tell us any of this before?’
Erol shrugged. ‘Nobody would have believed me.’ He didn’t even sound angry about it.
Mehmet and I were back in the little café where we’d first talked, the one just behind the police station. The only difference was that Ingrid was here instead of Charlie. I’d asked her to join us for a coffee. This strategy had worked well enough for Charlie last time. Part of me was surprised when she agreed to talk to me, and she definitely looked pissed off with me when she walked through the door. It didn’t get any better when she spotted Mehmet.
‘What the hell is this?’ she asked. ‘Some kind of weird ambush?’
‘If we can get you evidence to arrest the real people who are carrying out those assaults, would you like it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘There’s evidence. Someone saw the number plate of the car.’
‘You found a witness?’
‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘There’s a witness.’
‘And the problem is …’
I didn’t say anything. ‘I know you too well, Lotte,’ Ingrid continued. ‘You wouldn’t be here with this guy if there wasn’t a problem.’
‘You’re not going to like my witness.’
She narrowed her eyes. ‘You’re talking about Erol Yilmaz. I knew he’d been there around that time.’
‘What do you want to do, Ingrid?’
‘Are you saying Yilmaz was there when de Waal was assaulted? He knew the guys who did it?’
‘He saw them. He took down their number plate.’
Ingrid shook her head. ‘What the hell, Lotte, you can’t believe he was there by accident?’
‘I did a trace of the number plate; the car belongs to someone with a lot of previous. These guys would fit for all the assaults. All we need to do is talk to Peter de Waal. If he confirms what Erol said, we can get the guys who really did this.’
‘What if it was Yilmaz?’
‘He said he never sent those emails. That he never harassed the de Waals.’
Ingrid swore under her breath and then took a sip of her coffee. She looked out of the window, as if the answer to how to deal with a stubborn colleague could be found in the water of the canal.
‘Fine,’ she said finally. ‘I’ll double-check the emails. Give me some time. If there’s anything out of the ordinary, we’ll go talk to Peter de Waal again. Is that good enough?’
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes, that’s great.’
Chapter 36
I hadn’t been to Peter de Waal’s house before. The only time I’d talked to him was when he was still in the hospital. It was an average house in this row, which meant it probably belonged to the ten per cent most valuable pieces of property in Amsterdam. It had that solid square shape that screamed of money. It was larger than Mark’s place.
‘Thanks for not saying anything to anybody about that morning,’ I said as we arrived at the front door. ‘About Andre Nieuwkerk.’
‘We’ve all messed up sometimes,’ Ingrid said. ‘I wasn’t going to rat
you out.’ She threw me a glance. ‘I’m still annoyed with you for testifying for Yilmaz.’
‘I know.’
‘But I also know that that morning you chose to help me.’ She rang the doorbell. ‘Even if Peter retracts his statement, we can’t arrest anybody on Yilmaz’s say-so. Not after what’s been in the papers.’
‘Once you know who they are, you can trail them. Wait until they mug someone else.’
‘Do you think we’ve got all the time in the world?’
‘Not all the time in the world.’ I grinned. ‘But I think you’ve got time to do that.’
Before Ingrid had time to reply, Peter de Waal opened the door. Last time I’d seen him, his face had been badly bruised, but it had gone back to a normal patrician shape and colour. He’d probably been very attractive a decade ago, but now the skin was slack around his jaw and there was weakness in the bags under his eyes.
‘Caroline isn’t here,’ he said.
‘That’s fine,’ Ingrid responded. ‘We wanted to see you anyway. Get some things clear.’
‘Sure, we can go over everything again.’ He pulled the door open and invited us to follow him. He pointed towards a sofa in the middle of the light, airy room.
‘This time,’ Ingrid said after she’d unzipped her coat, ‘when we go over things, can you not lie? That would be really helpful.’
Peter looked as if he’d been punched in the face again. His features mainly reflected total shock.
‘We checked those emails that you printed out, the ones you claimed Erol sent you,’ she said, ‘and they actually came from an IP address in your wife’s office. So either the two of you have sent them to yourselves, or your wife really hates you.’
‘We …’ Peter’s eyes shifted from mine to Ingrid’s and back, like those of a dog following a tennis match. ‘We didn’t lie. She forwarded them from her work email address to my private one. That’s what you must have seen.’
‘Don’t,’ Ingrid said. ‘Just don’t. Stop lying. I’ve checked it all.’
‘Why are you doing this?’ he said. ‘Is it because we talked to the press? Because we made you look bad?’
‘Your wife is at work,’ I said. ‘If there’s anything you want to tell us without her here, now’s a good time to do it. We want to stop those assaults. Get the people who are really doing it.’
A Death at the Hotel Mondrian (Lotte Meerman Book 5) Page 24
