If only he knew who and what Caz Colijn really was. One moment he was convinced she was an archvillain after Ammie’s wealth, the next he regretted his mistrust and believed she only wanted Ammie to tell her where she came from. Felt sorry for her, pitied her for finding herself in such a mess.
He wished he could meet Caz face to face. Talk to her. Try to figure out who she really was. A con artist, or someone who had studied at the school of hard knocks and was just trying to get by?
Maybe Ammie’s curse had worked. Or maybe he found it so hard to believe Caz precisely because she was a slippery customer.
Tuesday, October 7
Caz
Ghent
Caz was surprised when she entered the church ten minutes before the start of Tieneke’s memorial service. About thirty people were already seated. Mostly women. Some dressed soberly, others informally. The majority didn’t look like regular churchgoers. Why she should think that she couldn’t really say.
The minister looked somewhat grim-faced as he took up his position behind the pulpit and announced that, consistent with Tieneke’s wishes, there would be no interment. Her will stipulated that, like Fien, she was to be cremated.
In the parts of the sermon Caz could follow, the man said good things about Tieneke. He praised her for her dedication to her mother over many years. He deplored the fact that she had come to such a violent end and earnestly pleaded with the Lord to have the guilty parties brought to book.
Caz had no desire to attend the tea after the service. She didn’t know a soul and everyone seemed to be avoiding her. No, not avoiding, looking straight through her as if she didn’t exist.
On her way to the bus stop, someone held her back by the arm.
“Miss Colijn?”
She recognized the notary from Fien’s funeral. What his name was she didn’t know. She had never been introduced to him.
“My sincere condolences. Tieneke was taken too soon.”
Caz nodded.
“I would like to hear when it would suit you to come to my office. We have to talk about Tieneke’s will.”
The will debacle had completely slipped her mind. “Mr. ... er ...”
“Kuyper. Jan Kuyper.” He held out his hand for Caz to shake.
“Mr. Kuyper, as implausible as I find it, I understand from Commissioner De Brabander that Tieneke changed her will in my favor. I presume nothing can be settled before the investigation has been completed?”
“That is indeed so. There must be no question of blood on the hands of the heir. But as you probably won’t be staying in Belgium indefinitely, we might as well complete the formalities while you’re here. If it suits you, we can go to my office right now. I made a tentative appointment for you for after the funeral. Unfortunately I didn’t have a contact number to confirm whether it suits you or not.”
Caz hesitated only a moment. “Fine.” The sooner she got it over with, the better.
The short drive to his office took place in silence.
The notary’s office was cramped and airless. Caz sat down, wishing he would at least open a window. She felt short of breath.
He reached for a file on his desk and drew it nearer.
“The detectives have probably showed you the copy of the will they requested. Are you familiar with the contents?”
“Commissioner De Brabander told me I’m the sole beneficiary and that Tieneke left a note declaring that she owes me nothing but has no other heirs.”
He nodded. “Good. The inheritance is made up of the two residences, a savings account, a cheque account as well as a few investments. The only outstanding debt is a pharmacy bill. The estimated value of the bequest, which includes a valuation of the two houses, is about six hundred thousand euros.”
“What? It’s ... it’s ...” She tried to do the conversion. “. . . something like nine million rand?”
“I’m not sure what the exchange rate is. Of course there are a few deductions we won’t go into now. But, providing the murder investigation is concluded to everyone’s satisfaction and the inheritance comes your way, I have to ask what you have in mind with regard to the fixed assets. The houses. Their contents.”
Caz was still trying to catch her breath. “Sell them, I suppose? Actually I haven’t the foggiest, Mr. Kuyper. I don’t know what Tieneke’s wishes were. And I don’t know what made her change her will. We weren’t close. Do you happen to know what she would’ve liked me to do?”
He looked at her pensively for a moment, then leaned forward as if he had come to a decision. “Let’s start at the beginning. Tieneke was effectively in control of her mother’s financial affairs long before Fien’s death. Tieneke would automatically have come into everything her mother owned, unless, of course, you laid claim to part of the estate. That didn’t happen.
“In her previous will Tieneke had made provision for Mrs. Colijn—for her care and so forth. But there was another bequest. One that had no longer been relevant for quite a while.” He hesitated slightly. “There had been someone in Tieneke’s life who would’ve been the main beneficiary of her will, but died about two years ago. In her grief at the time Tieneke had neglected to change her will.”
Caz’s jaw dropped. “There was a man in Tieneke’s life?”
Kuyper cleared his throat awkwardly. “You must understand this is confidential, Miss Colijn. Fien had no idea. No one did, except their closest friends. But no, there wasn’t a man in Tieneke’s life. It was a woman. She was childless as well, so ...”
“A woman?” And she had thought nothing could surprise her any more.
Kuyper nodded. “The woman’s relatives had cut all ties with her on religious grounds, so Tieneke obviously didn’t want them to benefit from her will. Tieneke and Elaine had a few good years together even though it was in stolen moments. I hope you won’t condemn her because of it?”
“For being in a gay relationship? Good grief, no, of course not. But I must admit it’s a shock. Well, a surprise, actually.” Tieneke in a clandestine relationship. Regardless of her lover’s gender, Caz would never have suspected it.
“With her friend’s background in mind, Tieneke wanted to make the rental home available to women in the same position as Elaine had been. Gay women who, for whatever reason, had nowhere to go. It’s hard to believe that even today people are rejected on the basis of their sexual preferences, but believe me, it happens. Be that as it may, Tieneke couldn’t implement her plan while Fien was still alive. You probably know how ... conventional Fien was.”
The man had a talent for euphemism. Caz nodded.
“With Fien’s death, everything changed. Tieneke had to update her will. As an interim measure, she made you the beneficiary—merely so that she wouldn’t die intestate. It was supposed to have been only until she could set up a trust and establish the safe house. We designed a workable plan, but we hadn’t got to the finer details yet. Tieneke hadn’t signed anything either. With her premature death, everything was left up in the air. Of course, if you do inherit, you are completely within your rights if you choose not to go ahead with the project.”
It was all too much, too soon. Caz tried to gather her thoughts, to make sense of what she had heard. “Mr. Kuyper, I’m a bit overwhelmed, but can this project go ahead without my involvement?”
“As far as the transfer of the rental home is concerned, you would only have to sign a few documents. But you must understand that it would take a chunk of about two hundred thousand euros out of your inheritance. That’s more or less the value of the house. And I’ll have to find a way to finance the project.”
“Mr. Kuyper, how can I be worse off? The money was never mine to start with.”
She thought she could see a glint of approval in his eyes. “Do you intend to take occupation of the other house? Tieneke’s house? Temporarily or permanently?”
Caz shook
her head. “No.” She would prefer never to set foot in that house again.
He leaned forward. “Miss Colijn. I know where Fien and Tieneke’s money originally came from. We discussed it at length the last time Tieneke was here. Despite Tieneke’s note, I am convinced in the end she would have wanted to compensate you for the injustice done to you. Without short-changing herself while she was still alive, of course, and not with all of her estate either. As her executor, I suggest we handle the matter in the following way. That is, if you approve.
“We keep Tieneke’s house, renovate it and furnish it the way Tieneke and I had been planning to do with the rental home. We sell the rental home, because it would frankly be easier than trying to sell a house where a murder took place. With the proceeds we finance the project. You get the investments, which comprise about a third of the estate. If your information regarding the exchange rate is correct, it would mean that about three million rand would be coming your way.”
Caz gave a slight laugh. “Mother Fien would turn in her grave. And not only because of the money coming to me. Homosexuality, like so many other things, was an unforgivable sin in her eyes. ‘Conservative’ really doesn’t cover it.”
Kuyper smiled. “She was cremated. No grave to turn in.”
This time Caz laughed out loud. She was amazed she still knew how. “Well, I bet those ashes are quivering.”
“Do you agree?”
“I do. If you’re sure Tieneke really would have wanted me to benefit.”
He nodded. “As sure as I can be.”
“Then you may draw up the documents. I hope to fly back in a little less than a week. Everything will depend on the murder investigation, of course, but my visa expires in a week or so.”
“Agreed. I’ll put everything in writing as soon as possible. Your contact details?”
Caz wrote them down.
“Tieneke would have been proud of you, Miss Colijn.”
Caz smiled, but she doubted it. At most, Tieneke might be heaving a sigh of relief, wherever she was.
“Can I take you home?”
Caz shook her head. “I’ll take the bus, but thank you.”
When he held the door for her, Caz hesitated. “Mr. Kuyper, I don’t know how things are done in Belgium, but aren’t you almost too involved in Tieneke’s plans? For someone who is merely her notary and executor, I mean?”
“My daughter is also gay. My ex-wife rejected her. I’ve met a few of my daughter’s friends who have had the same experience, including Elaine. A number of them attended the service this morning. There comes a time when one has to do something. Reach out a hand. It’s what Tieneke wanted to do, and I would like to see it through. Thanks to you, we can go ahead.”
“What would happen if there’s evidence that I have blood on my hands?”
“Do you?”
She shook her head.
“Well, don’t worry about it then.”
Caz wished she could be so sure.
When she left the building, Grevers was leaning against a lamppost.
Thirty-six
Wednesday, October 8
Caz
Ghent
What a wonderful bodyguard and shadow she had. Grevers was asleep in his car. He nearly jumped out of his skin when Caz tapped on the window.
Grevers fumbled with the key in the ignition before opening the window.
“Good morning, Inspector.”
He nodded, mortified.
“I just want to inform you I’m meeting my daughter at the Graslei in an hour’s time. On the bridge near De Witte Leeuw. We’re going to have breakfast and for the rest of the day I’m in her hands. She’ll be staying at my guesthouse too, the one over there that you are watching.
“It would really mean a lot to me if you could leave us alone. It’s her birthday today and I haven’t seen her in ten months. We want to enjoy ourselves without someone trailing behind us. You can phone me if it makes you feel any better, but I hope you won’t.
“I’m getting on the bus now. Don’t follow me. Leave me alone today. We can talk again tomorrow. Okay?”
He stared at her, astonished. Caz pointed a warning finger at him and crossed the street to where the bus had just stopped.
Grevers remained in his car.
Attaboy. Good dog.
Luc
Ghent
It was hard to believe. The same Ammie who had wanted nothing to do with her daughter now wanted to meet her granddaughter.
Luc wished Ammie had kept refusing to see Caz. It would have made life so much easier. For him anyway. His see-sawing thoughts about the woman was exhausting.
The truth was, whether she was virtue personified or evil incarnate, Caz wasn’t his responsibility. Ammie was.
Luc picked up his phone and dialed.
“Good morning, Commissioner. Luc DeReu.”
“Good day, Professor. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
“Cassandra Colijn. She eventually met my stepmother on Sunday.”
“I’m aware of it, yes. Grevers took her there. We checked the address.”
“According to her carer, Ammie has got it into her head that she wants to meet her granddaughter. I haven’t heard from Caz yet, but apparently Ammie told her to arrange it with me. Ammie wants to see her on Friday. The granddaughter. Caz will presumably accompany her.”
“And?”
“I’m worried Caz may be after my stepmother’s money and that she’s in danger.” He blurted out the words.
“Is your stepmother exceptionally wealthy?”
“I can’t say, but she’s wealthy enough to pay for a private carer, and she lives in a spacious apartment in a good neighborhood. She wants for nothing.”
“Is your stepmother convinced that Ms. Colijn is her biological daughter?”
“It seems so. Lieve, the carer, says it’s obvious. I’ve only seen Caz from a distance, so I can’t say.” All he could say was that she had Africa in her walk and hair that made one’s fingers itch to touch it.
“Well, what’s your problem, Professor? As her biological daughter, Ms. Colijn is surely entitled to be her mother’s heir? Wouldn’t you say so?”
Now the man probably thought he himself was after the inheritance. “But, Commissioner, you suspect that she had Tieneke murdered to get her hands on her money.”
De Brabander kept silent for a while. “I can’t remember telling you that but, seeing that you seem to know about it anyway, that aspect of the case has more or less been resolved.”
“How’s that?” He hoped he hadn’t created a problem for Grevers.
“Cassandra Colijn undertook to sign away two-thirds of Tieneke’s estate for a charitable purpose and there’s no reason to think she won’t stick to her word. The amount she’s signing away comes to about four hundred thousand euros. I can hardly imagine she would do so if she had Tieneke murdered for her money.”
Luc was speechless.
“In sceptical moments I have wondered whether she might be doing it precisely because she knows she’s been caught out and wants to allay suspicion, but overall it doesn’t make sense. Yes, you might be out of an inheritance yourself. No, I don’t think Cassandra will have her birth mother killed for her money. Yesterday afternoon she asked that her passport be returned to her. Her visa expires shortly, and I have no further reason to keep her here. Now you’ll have to excuse me.”
Luc said goodbye and sat gazing through his dusty office window. He had so many questions, but with Caz on her way back to South Africa, he would probably never learn the answers. He would never find out whether Africa was in her eyes as well.
Caz
Ghent
Caz saw Lilah from a distance. Her first instinct was not to hurry towards her, but rather to take her in with her eyes, make Lilah her own again.
> She was not the only one watching the lithe black woman with legs that went on forever. You couldn’t miss her, and not only because she was tall and striking. The way she walked revealed an energy that seemed to rush through her veins. Her smile radiated an unmistakable inner joy.
“MamaCaz!” she cried over a crowd of heads when she saw Caz. She waved excitedly and, despite her killer heels, broke into a run. Her braids bobbed up and down, her short flared skirt fluttered around her thighs.
Caz hurried towards her and, laughing, they fell into each other’s arms.
“I missed you so much!” Caz hugged her child so tightly that she was short of breath herself.
“And me!”
“Thirty-one today. Congratulations, Lilah.”
“I’m getting old.” Lilah let her go. “Champagne. French. That’s what we need.”
“Your birthday. Your call.”
Seated at a restaurant after Lilah had tried to order Veuve Clicquot but had to make a different choice from the wine list, she gave Caz the once-over. “Fuck it, MaCaz, that must have been a helluva shiner if it still looks like that.” Lilah frowned.
“You know just how to make a girl feel gorgeous.” She should have known Lilah would see right through the thick layer of make-up.
“It’s a knack I have. Don’t you dare tell me you walked into a door. What the fuck is happening in your life that turned you into a murder suspect with a black eye?”
“How do you know about ...” Caz stopped when Lilah held up her iPhone.
“It’s called the worldwide web. If you google ‘Colijn’ to try to find out something about the family tree, you hit on a murder your mother didn’t tell you about. The online newspapers are full of innuendoes I can decode because I know who they’re talking about. I’ve been waiting for you to tell me, but all I’ve heard is the wonderful news that I’m not a twig of the Colijn family tree after all.”
“I would have told you. Tomorrow, after your birthday.”
“That makes me feel so much better. Out with the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.”
Sacrificed Page 37
