The Tulip Eaters

by Antoinette van Heugten

  The man she’d run into as she dashed from the Instituut—his eyes! In her panic, she’d fled before they could register. The last thing she’d heard as she bolted in the freezing rain was a single word. “Nora!”

  That voice was unmistakable—a scar in her heart. The same voice she’d heard the last time she’d fled Amsterdam.

  It was Nico.

  37

  Nora felt the wind along the canal lash one final time as she reached the massive stone entrance of the Instituut. It had taken her half an hour to walk back. She saw her blurred reflection in the glass front doors. Her hair was plastered to her head, her leather jacket black from the rain. The gargoyles above the doors seemed to look down upon her with wrathful eyes.

  She took a breath and pressed the buzzer. She saw the receptionist’s eyes widen. He picked up a phone and spoke to someone, never taking his eyes off her. Nora shivered. The temperature had dropped during her trudge back. She steeled herself as the guard got out of his chair and strode toward the entrance. He opened the door.

  “Dr. van Doren,” he said tersely. “Kom binnen.”

  As she walked in, she tried to put confidence into her words. “Ik zou graag Dr. Meijer zien.”

  The guard looked as if he wanted to put her in shackles there and then. “Blijf U daar staan.”

  She obeyed his order for her to stay put. Rain dripped from her and pooled on the floor. She rubbed her eyes. When she looked up, she saw Nico walking down the red-carpeted stairs. Her heart lurched—with hope for Rose, she told herself.

  He seemed taller and thinner, but his long, thoughtful face was the same. His dark hair made his green eyes stand out. It was those eyes that had captivated her and did not leave hers now. She felt something electric and unbidden go through her.

  She saw yesterday’s medewerker appear and move toward her. Without shifting his gaze from her, Nico held up a hand and Dijkstra stopped. The guard stood, glaring at her as if she were planning a terrorist attack on the Instituut.

  Nora stepped closer to Nico. In so doing, the green dagboek slipped from her jacket onto the slick floor and skittered a few feet away. She froze. Nico walked slowly across the room and picked up the diary. He scanned the first few pages and stared at her.

  “That’s it!” cried the young medewerker. “The NSB diary I told her she couldn’t have. She broke in and stole it!”

  Nico waved the medewerker away and walked the few steps to Nora. She could smell a faint trace of his spicy aftershave mixed with a scent distinctly his and then saw the small patch of stubble he always missed when he shaved. Now they were alone in the lobby. It felt to Nora as if they were the last two people in the universe, frozen in unbearable tension.

  His voice was low and harsh. “Kom.” He turned. Nora followed him up the stairs, down the hall and into an office different from his old one. He held the door open as she walked past him and then closed it. “Ga zitten.”

  There were two plain chairs in front of the desk. She chose one, sat and looked around. She saw the dark wooden desk he had used at home when they lived together. It felt so familiar—covered with books and papers opened to passages he had marked in the blue ink he used to buy at his favorite pen shop around the corner from his house. Two large windows offered a splendid view of the Herengracht. A silver frame faced away from her. She felt a stab knowing that the face must be his wife’s, not hers. She turned the small ring she always wore on her left hand so that the design of silver tulips was hidden. She did not want him to know she still wore it.

  Nico walked slowly to his desk. His face seemed shut down—tight. She had seen him like that only a few times. Times she had willed herself to forget. Nico placed the diary carefully on his desk, sat behind his desk and crossed his arms over his chest. “What in the hell are you doing here?”

  Nora pressed her palms together to keep them from shaking. “Waarom spreek je geen Nederlands met mij?”

  He glowered at her. “Why should I speak Dutch with you? You left Holland, if you will recall. You’re an American.”

  Nora started to speak, but he held up his hand. “Just answer my questions,” he said. “Why are you here? Why did you fake a letter of introduction to get into the Instituut? Did you really steal a diary from the archives?” His voice rose. “Have you lost your goddamned mind?”

  Nora stared back at him, stung. She would gladly take whatever he dished out, as long as he helped her find Rose. “Please stop yelling at me,” she said quietly. “I have excellent reasons for everything I’ve done.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said icily. “I’m calling the shots here. Let’s summarize, shall we? The guard tells me that someone I’ve never heard of shows up when I just happen to be on vacation and hands over a letter of introduction from me. Not only does she waltz into the research room, asking questions about people whose names are unfamiliar to me, but what am I greeted with the day I return?”

  Nora almost interrupted but decided against it. When Nico was angry, it was pointless to reason with him until he had gotten it all out. She focused on staying calm.

  “The day I get back, I try to open the door to my place of business and some crazed woman bolts out of the door and almost knocks me down. As if that isn’t astonishing enough, I look down and see you. The woman who swore to me that she would never set foot in Amsterdam again. Does she stay and tell me what the hell she’s doing here? No, she runs off like a criminal.” His face tightened. “Just like she did almost two years ago.”

  He took a deep breath. Nora saw the pain on his face. “Then I’m greeted by a medewerker who is about to fall on his sword because during his shift, a dagboek of some NSB woman has disappeared. Apparently not only is the dagboek missing, but so is the mystery woman. This esteemed professor of Netherlands Studies, from Stanford no less.” Nico pushed back his chair. His eyes were fierce.

  Nora felt a flush of anger. “Are you finished?”

  Nico sat back. “For the present.”

  “Good. Then if you’ll listen for just five minutes, I’ll tell you everything you want to know.”

  “Wouldn’t that be amazing?”

  The sarcasm brought tears to her eyes. She felt so damned tired. And the horrible, horrible things she had read about her mother. She pointed at a small table in the corner. “Could I have a cup of coffee before you have me arrested?”

  Grim faced, Nico walked to the coffeepot, poured a cup, added two sugars and brought it to her. He hadn’t forgotten. His fingers touched hers as she took the cup. She tried to ignore the sudden spark she felt. She took a sip. Her hands trembled. She knew he saw her pain, but his face remained unchanged. She took a deep breath. “First, you have every right to be annoyed with me.”

  “Annoyed?”

  “I should never have fabricated that letter,” she said quietly. “I tried to call you, but they told me you were on vacation.”

  “It must be something very important indeed for you to contact me.” His voice was glacial. “I’m fascinated, particularly since you made it clear you never wanted to see me again.”

  “Please, Nico. I need to talk to you about something critical. I really must have your help.”

  “And why did you think I would help you?”

  Nora felt like screaming. “Because even though you’re still mad as hell at me for leaving, I knew I could count on you.”

  “The Nico you knew would have done anything for you,” he said quietly, “but not the Nico I am today.”

  She stared at the thin gold band. “You’re married.”

  “That, Dr. van Doren, is none of your business. Not anymore.”

  Nora looked away, trying not to break down, but tears now streamed down her face. Not only did Nico not care for her anymore, he despised her. He would not help her. She stood and Nico’s face blurred, the furniture spun and t
he dark waves of the Herengracht disappeared as she looked through the window.

  Suddenly everything tilted. She imagined Nico moving toward her in slow motion, just as he had in the dreams that never, ever went away. The arms that reached out for her seemed so strong, so safe—no, she wouldn’t faint. Not here, not now. She had to tell him about Rose. He had to help her.

  Nico put his arm firmly around her waist as he walked her back to her chair. She collapsed into it. He stood over her. She saw the concern on his face. “What is it? Are you ill?”

  She took a breath and shook her head. “No, just a little dizzy.”

  “Not eating again?”

  “It’s not that.” She grasped his arm. “Please sit down, Nico. I have to talk to you. So much has happened.”

  Nico took his seat, his face brooding, wary.

  “I really need your help.” She hated the desperation in her voice.

  “So you said. Now what is this all about?”

  “My mother is dead—murdered.”

  “What! Murdered by whom?”

  Nora felt more tears start. Her voice shook. “That’s the problem. I don’t know who did it.”

  “Nora, this is crazy!” he said. “Who would want to kill your mother?”

  “That’s what I’m here to find out.”

  “What could possibly be here that would lead you to discover that?”

  “It’s a long story, Nico, and I will tell it to you.” She paused. “But even more horrible is that someone with the murderer, kidnapped—” she paused for another breath “—my daughter.” Nora felt a sharp pang seeing the shocked expression on his face.

  “You have a daughter? When did all this happen?”

  “After I moved back to the States.”

  “Obviously,” he said coldly.

  With shaking hands, Nora pulled her wallet from her purse and opened it. The photo of Rose she always carried smiled up at her. Silently, she handed it to Nico.

  He took it, stared at it and then handed it back. He cleared his throat. “What is her name?”

  “Rose,” she whispered.

  “But why do you need my help?” Now his voice was normal, even businesslike. “Surely the police are investigating?”

  “The Houston police, the FBI, the Dutch authorities—they haven’t found anything.” She started crying. “Rose has been missing for over two weeks now. They tell me that she may never be found—that she may be dead.”

  Nico moved his chair closer to hers and took her cold hands into his. His warmth sparked hope into her.

  “Nora, I am so sorry,” he said softly. “But what does that have to do with your coming here and doing all these crazy things?”

  “The killer had to be from Holland—someone from the war. He murdered my mother for revenge.”

  “What?”

  “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise to help me! It’s as much for you as it is for me.”

  Confusion filled Nico’s eyes. “What does that mean?”

  “It’s Rose.”

  “But Nora, where is the father?”

  “I’m looking at him,” she whispered. “Rose is your daughter.”

  38

  Nora sat with Marijke in her living room after a simple dinner. As Nora related her confrontation with Nico, Marijke was rapt.

  “What did he say when you told him Rose was his daughter?”

  “He was shocked, as you might imagine. He must be sitting at a café having a few strong drinks before he has to go home and tell his wife.”

  “No question about that! But is he going to help you?”

  “He said he would do everything he could. He has the dagboek and I explained about my mother—that she was an NSB-er, Abram Rosen’s murder, the judgment and how I suspect that her murder was a revenge killing. He promised to stay at the Instituut until he had put all the wheels in motion with his staff and that he would let me know the minute he finds anything. God, I’m so relieved.”

  “That he is going to try to find something?”

  “Definitely that. But also because he finally knows about Rose.”

  Marijke shook her head. “I wouldn’t want to be his wife right now. Is he angry at you for not telling him?”

  Nora felt again the fury Nico had unleashed upon her. How could she not have told him, he’d yelled. She had no right! “Angry is too mild a word. He couldn’t believe that, despite what happened between us, I would deprive him of the chance to make a different choice because of the baby.”

  “He’s right, you know.”

  “I know,” she whispered. “I guess I didn’t feel I had any other option.”

  Marijke put her wineglass on the coffee table and shrugged. “Well, at least it’s all out in the open.”

  Nora nodded. But she did not tell Marijke that when she stood to leave, he had walked her to the door. Before she could open it, he’d grabbed her and given her a rough kiss. As she’d walked away, the joy of his lips on hers remained. She didn’t know if he still had feelings for her or if knowing that they had a child together had prompted the kiss.

  Marijke looked at her watch and stood. “I have to go. I’m meeting my boyfriend at his place.”

  “Quite a fiery romance you have going on there, judging by how many nights you spend with him.”

  Marijke laughed. “I do rather like the man.”

  When she left, Nora gave in to her exhaustion, put on her robe and drew a hot bath. Before she could step into it, the phone rang. Shit.

  “Met Nora de Jong.”

  “Nora, it’s Lieutenant Richards.”

  “I was just thinking of calling you! Have you gotten anywhere?”

  “No, neither the P.I. nor I have found anything new.”

  “So what now?”

  “We keep looking. Are you coming back soon?”

  “Not yet. But I’ve found someone to help me and I think we’ll move forward more quickly now.”

  “Who?”

  “The head of the Dutch War Institute, Nico Meijer. He can research this far more quickly than I ever could.”

  “How do you know this guy? Is he legit?”

  Nora was glad he couldn’t see the flush she felt on her cheeks. “He’s—well—he’s Rose’s father.”

  “What?”

  “It’s hard to explain.” She felt flustered. “I lived with him in Amsterdam, but it didn’t work out and I went back to the States.”

  There was a short silence. “Well, do what you need to do. Maybe you’ll get somewhere. We certainly haven’t. And don’t worry, I’ll keep you informed about the investigation here. You let me know if you find something.”

  “I will.”

  “Goodbye, Nora.”

  She stood wearily and went back upstairs, added more hot water and sank gratefully into the steaming tub. But even then she couldn’t relax. In her mind’s eye she saw Rose resting on her legs, wriggling in the soapy water and laughing as Nora planted kisses on her tummy. Would she ever hold her again? Where was she now? Was she sick, dead? She closed her eyes, sank down farther in the tub and willed herself to believe that Nico would solve this. They would find Rose. God couldn’t be so cruel, not before her baby had even begun her life.

  Just as the tenseness in her body began to melt, she heard steps on the creaky stairs. “Marijke?” She must have forgotten something. But she heard no answer, only footsteps creeping up the stairs. Nora felt the hair on her neck prickle. She jumped out of the tub, almost falling on the slick tiles, threw on her robe and locked the door. She tried to keep the terror out of her voice. “Who is it? What do you want?”

  She heard heavy breathing and saw the knob spin, but not open. She looked around the tiny bathroom for something to use as a weapon
. All she saw was a nail file, a plunger. What could she do?

  She heard a hard bang against the door. It was a man, cursing under his breath. At that moment, the doorbell rang.

  “Help!” she screamed. “Someone has broken in!”

  She heard steps racing down the stairs and a shattering of glass. Was it safe for her to dash downstairs and run to the door for help?

  A loud voice yelled through the front door. “Nora! It’s Nico! Are you all right?”

  She ran down and flung open the door. Nico grabbed her and held her close. “What’s happened? Are you all right?”

  “A man!” She gasped and pointed to the rear of the house. “I heard a window break.”

  “Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  Nora stood shivering in the doorway until he returned. “You’re right. There’s glass all over the floor.” She buried her face in his neck. “It’s all right, he’s gone now.”

  He led her into the living room, sat her on the couch and poured her a Scotch. She gulped it down and spluttered. “Nico, I’m so scared.”

  He sat down beside her. When he put his warm, strong arms around her, she finally caught her breath.

  “It was just a burglar,” said Nico. “Happens all the time in Amsterdam. We should call the police, although I doubt it would do much good.”

  Her mind now flashed on the night at the café. “Someone attacked me in an alley a few days ago.”

  “God, did he hurt you?”

  “No, but he ran off before anyone could catch him. The bartender in a café across the street looked for him. He said it must have been a drug addict or just someone looking for money.”

  Nico held her tightly. “That must be what it was. Poor sweetheart.”

  Nora drew back. “What if it wasn’t a coincidence? What if someone is after me?”