The Tulip Eaters

by Antoinette van Heugten

  “But Amarisa! Who took that child? And why?”

  “I have no idea what you’re babbling about. There is no child. I’m hanging up. Don’t ever contact me again.”

  Henny heard one sound before Amarisa slammed down the receiver. The faint cry of a baby.

  63

  Nora sat numbly with Nico in the train to Amsterdam. They were due to arrive in ten minutes. She had told Nico everything.

  “I still can’t believe it!” she cried. “What about all those years Hans loved me, took care of me, made me believe he was my father?” She dropped her head in her hands. “That must be why my birth certificate says my father was ‘unknown.’ If my mother had revealed it was Abram, she would have been marked as a non-Jew having relations with a Jew.” Her voice cracked. “And she would have been sent to a camp and killed.”

  “And if Hans murdered Abram,” said Nico, “it wouldn’t have been safe for him to claim to be the father. He would also have been arrested because of his relationship with a woman who slept with a Jew. And if he stayed in Holland after the war, he ran the risk that Abram’s family would have had him tried for murder.”

  Nora blanched. “After talking to Henny, I now think my mother loved Abram, but did she also love my father?”

  He took her into his arms. “It doesn’t matter, lieveling. They both loved your mother.”

  “And how can Henny be sure that I was Abram’s child? My mother could have been sleeping with both of them!”

  Nico shrugged. “She’s the only source we have.”

  Nora felt spent. “I wonder when my mother decided to leave with Hans? It had to be soon after I was born in Amsterdam.”

  “Look, all we know is that Abram was killed just before the occupation ended. Your mother must have been desperate. Her lover was dead. She was pregnant and then you were born. She trusted Hans. Everyone thought he was a murderer and she was a known NSB-er. Maybe he just took over at that point.”

  “But how did he get them out of Holland? It was almost impossible back then.”

  Nico shrugged. “Who knows?”

  “And why would he do that if he knew my mother was pregnant with Abram’s baby?”

  “Depends on how much he loved her.”

  She sat, trying to absorb it all. A thought struck her. “I forgot to tell you about the boy.”

  “What boy?”

  “Saartje said that a boy visited Abram while he was in hiding.”

  “Did she know his name?”

  Nora shook her head. “It probably didn’t mean anything. It was at the end of our visit and she was saying crazy things. I tried to press her, but she just crawled into bed and wouldn’t talk anymore.”

  “But she used the word ‘boy’? That means he wasn’t a baby.”

  “I don’t know. But she called him ‘Abraham’s promised son’. Abraham means Abram, but what did she mean by his ‘promised son’? I asked her if it meant that Abram had a son, but she said no. Who could it be?”

  Nico stared at her. “Is that precisely what she said?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t make any sense—”

  Nico slammed his fist on the table. “That’s it!”

  “What are you talking about?”

  He grinned. “You know I was raised by a Calvinist minister.”

  “What difference does that make?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “In the Bible, Abraham’s promised son is named Isaac.”

  “Isaac? But what does that mean?”

  “I think it means that Abram, Nora’s lover, probably had a father who was named Abraham.”

  “So that would make Isaac—”

  Nico grasped her hand. “Abram’s brother.”

  64

  By the time the conductor announced their arrival in Amsterdam, Nora was frantic. They rushed from the train onto the platform. Nora rooted around in her purse for the scrap of paper Henny had given her. She ran to a pay phone. Her hands shook so she could barely dial.

  “Henny? It’s Nora.”

  Nora heard a choked sob. “Thank God you called, child! I didn’t know how to reach you!”

  “What is it?”

  “After you left, I called Amarisa—my sister.”

  “You have a sister?”

  “Yes, and a brother—”

  “Isaac?”

  “Yes, yes. When you left, I thought I was crazy. It was so long ago.” Nora heard her cry louder.

  “Tante, what is it? Tell me, please!”

  “Amarisa—she said he didn’t do it, but I don’t believe her, I know when she’s lying—”

  “What do you mean?”

  Nora heard a choking noise and then Henny’s broken voice. “Nora, I don’t know how to tell you this. It was Isaac who killed your mother. He’s dead. Amarisa confirmed it.”

  “Oh, my God!” The image of the dead Dutchman lying on Anneke’s floor flashed through her mind. “I saw him! But who took Rose then?”

  “I don’t know, really I don’t. The only thing I can think of is that it was Amarisa. She hated your mother as much as Isaac did.”

  “Quick! Give me her number, her address!”

  “Ach, kind, I only have the number of her service. She screens her calls. She wouldn’t even tell me where she lives.”

  So close, so damned close! “Isn’t there anyone who knows where this woman lives? I’ve got to go there right now!”

  Nora heard rustling on the end of the line. “Isaac has a son—Ariel. I don’t know where he lives, but I have a wedding announcement here somewhere. I’ve been looking for it since I spoke to Amarisa—”

  “Please hurry!” Nora whirled around to Nico. “A pen!”

  Nico fumbled in his jacket and produced one. Nora took it and clutched the receiver.

  There was a maddening delay. “Here! I have it! Tweede Leliedwarsstraat 624. But I have no idea if he still lives there—”

  “I’ve got it. He has to know his own aunt’s address!”

  “Go, child. Go now.”

  “What about my Rose?” Nora struggled to breathe. “Did she say anything about her?”

  “Oh, Nora, she didn’t, but—”

  “What? What is it?”

  “I think I heard a baby crying.”

  65

  Two days after Ariel’s return, he and Leah sat hunched next to each other on the couch after their morning coffee. Ariel was about to raise his shoulder but thought better of it. Even though Leah had meticulously tended his wound, it was still sore as hell.

  They had spoken of nothing but their options. Last night, Ariel had made his final decision. He had the Amsterdam address where Nora was staying. He would tell her where Rose was. Because Leah had called Amarisa to ask that they keep Rose tonight, they knew that she had not yet fled. Of course, she had refused their request.

  They both stared at the telephone on the coffee table. Ariel looked at Leah, she nodded. He breathed deeply, picked up the receiver and dialed. The service picked up and put him through.

  “Met Ariel.”

  “Ach, my long-lost nephew.” Amarisa’s words were nails being clipped. “I haven’t heard from you lately. How are you? And Leah?”

  “Don’t give me that shit, Amarisa. I’m sitting here with a bullet hole in my shoulder.”

  “Oh, my God!” she cried. “What happened?”

  “You know goddamned well what happened. You sent that goon to kill Nora and he shot me!”

  “Why, Ariel, how could you think such a thing?”

  “Listen, you bitch, you’ve gone out of your mind. Killing people? Having me shot?”

  “Don’t talk to me that way, you little pisher. You better remember who puts bread on your
plate.”

  Clenching the receiver, he focused on the white of his knuckles. Now he would drive spikes into his words. “We don’t give a damn about your money. I’m calling the police, telling them where the baby is and turning myself in.”

  “Ha!” she chortled. “I can just see you rotting in jail with that whimpering wife of yours passing you a nail file in an appelgebak through the visitor slot! You don’t have the balls for it, Ariel. Stop bluffing.”

  “Fuck you.”

  He heard only a silence, then a clipped voice. “In the time it takes you to hang up, Jacoba and I will disappear where no one will ever find her again—not her mother, not the police and not you, Sherlock Holmes.”

  “I’ve called the police already, Amarisa. I’ve told them I know where Rose is. And who murdered Anneke. They’re conferring with the American Embassy and the FBI as we speak.” He let that sink in. “In fact, I told them you confessed that you went with Isaac to Houston, murdered Anneke and stole Rose. And that now you’ve hired an assassin to kill her mother—and me.”

  “You bastard!” she screamed. “You’ve just sealed your own coffin!”

  “Now you listen to me, and listen well.” His voice crushed ice. “I called them, but I haven’t given them your address—yet. I’ve made an appointment to be at the station in twenty minutes. Told them I’m afraid to reveal my identity over the phone. And that you’re a flight risk.”

  A harsh laugh. “I knew you were bluffing, you little shit!”

  “I don’t think you understand, Tante. You bring the baby here this instant and maybe we can make a deal. You can have Rose, but Leah and I want to say goodbye to her and start a new life in another country. And that will be very expensive.”

  “Half-wit! You’re setting a trap. You’ve probably got the cops sitting there with you right now.”

  “Look at this sensibly.” He struggled to make himself speak calmly. “It is in my best interest to make an arrangement with you. As you say, without your money, I can’t afford to live here. And I am in danger of going to jail for a very long time.”

  He heard nothing. Then the viper was back. “You go to hell. I’m taking my baby and leaving right now.”

  “Do that, Amarisa,” he said evenly. “The police station I called is one block from your house. Even you can’t fly to the airport.”

  “Godverdomme!”

  “And don’t bring that hit man of yours here with you. If I so much as see his face, I’ll call the cops.”

  “You son of a bitch!”

  “Clock is ticking. You’ve wasted five precious minutes.”

  “If you have the cops waiting for me, I’ll tell them the real story and you’ll be the one behind bars! That you forced me—an old woman—to hide her, take care of her—”

  “Move your ass.” He paused. “By the way, how’s that for balls?”

  66

  Amarisa slammed down the receiver. “Godverdomme!” She felt trapped. And by that imbecile!

  She rushed into the nursery, where Jacoba lay sleeping. Surely the dolt was bluffing. Still, she’d never have dreamed he’d have the guts to try something like this! But why should she be surprised? He was only threatening because he himself had given up. Weak little shit.

  She looked at her watch. If he wasn’t bluffing, she had to get the hell out of Amsterdam fast. And if he had the police waiting for her?

  She took out a suitcase and hurriedly packed a few things for her and Rose. Didn’t matter. Money bought anything, anywhere. Switzerland was no exception. She then whirled the dial on the safe hidden in her closet. It sprang open and she grabbed the cash, flipped through it. More than enough.

  She dialed from the nursery phone, the receiver crammed between her neck and shoulder, as she stuffed the money into her purse. “Met Amarisa.”

  A groan. “Christ, Amarisa, what the fuck do you want now?”

  “Shut up and listen. Ariel’s trying to set me up. Get over to his place—now. I’m on my way.”

  “Slow down. Set you up how?”

  “It doesn’t matter,” she snapped. “But I may need to get out of there fast. Your job is to make sure I do.”

  “Does this involve the cops? If it does, count me out.”

  “Get your ass over there! If you’re such a pussy, you can wait outside.”

  “Fuck you. I’m done.”

  Amarisa glanced again at her watch. She had no time for this crap. “Look, I’m leaving tonight—for good. You do this one last thing for me and I’ll pay you so much money you can do whatever you want with your shitty life. You’ll be rid of me forever.” The shit, he was making her wait.

  “All right, goddamn it. But this is it. I’m not killing anybody. And you bet your ass I’ll wait outside. And you pay me up front before you go in there.”

  “Deal. And bring your gun.”

  “On my way.”

  Amarisa called a limo service she had never used. Told them to pick her up. If things went wrong, the car would be waiting around the corner. She’d pay the driver more than he’d ever seen and she and Rose would race to Belgium and fly out of Antwerp. She’d be an idiot to leave from Schiphol, which would be crawling with cops.

  And she was no idiot.

  67

  Nora held Nico’s hand tightly as the taxi crawled to the Jordaan. Her heart beat with a wild rhythm. She’s alive, oh, God—Rose is alive! The son, Ariel, must know where his aunt lives, where Rose was! She leaned forward. “Can’t you hurry? This is an emergency!”

  The driver just shrugged and pointed at the traffic jammed in the narrow streets all around him. Nico’s extravagant tip may as well have been pitched into the canal.

  “Nora, I still think we should call the police.”

  “I know, but we don’t have time! Remember when I got my passport stolen? First, I had to sit in line for an hour while the proper Dutch officer made me fill out a form a mile long just to establish who I was. Then I had to talk to everyone in the station and convince them I wasn’t fencing passports on the black market. And then—the last straw—they took a two-hour lunch and told me to come back in a week!”

  “Maybe you’re right. Look.” Nico pointed to crowds of young picketers with dyed green hair carrying garish signs and chanting as they marched around the Dam. “Greenpeace. You couldn’t find a cop if you wanted one. They’re all out on horseback.”

  She grabbed his arm. “We should have taken the tram!”

  “We’d just be standing in line. Trying to get out of the crowd like everyone else.” He put his arm around her. “Hold on, schat.”

  She couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe. They had to find Rose now! Her baby was with a madwoman. Crying, said Henny. Hurt? Sick? Oh, God, this Ariel—was he her darling’s only hope?

  As they made painstaking progress toward the Jordaan, Nora’s eyes flitted upon scenery that did not seem so changed since the war. Buildings that had seen the terrors of the razzias now displayed shops brimming with Holland’s finest flowers, excellent restaurants and posh art galleries. They were going back to the neighborhood where the Jews had been corralled, beaten and taken away. How ironic it would be if she found Rose’s kidnapper in the very neighborhood where her grandfather had been killed.

  Tweede Leliedwarsstraat 624. Nora looked at Nico, feeling overwhelmed with fear and hope. The flat looked just like the others lined up neatly in a row, a simple stoep that led up to a recessed wooden door. The typical bay window. She hoped to God that the nephew still lived there. That he could lead them to Amarisa...to Rose!

  Nora again gripped Nico’s hand as they walked up the few stone steps. She could barely control herself. She wanted to break in and tear the place apart. Hold on Rose, hold on.

  With a trembling finger, Nora pressed the doorbell. No answer. She w
aited a few torturous moments and then turned to Nico. She rang it again, longer this time. Nothing.

  “No!” cried Nora. She banged her fists on the door.

  It opened.

  68

  A short, stocky man with black hair smiled at Nico until his eyes fell upon Nora. Shock swept his face.

  “Are you Ariel Rosen?” asked Nora.

  He tried to slam the door, but Nico thrust his foot forward and stopped him.

  “You have to let us in,” cried Nora. “Your aunt has my daughter! Where is she? What is her address?”

  “Stop!” he cried through the slit of open door. “The baby’s fine, she’s safe, but my aunt—” He whipped his head around and then back to them. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You go, I’ll bring the baby to you, I promise, but—”

  “Nico!”

  Nico flung open the door and he and Nora pushed their way inside. Nora barreled into the living room. The first thing she saw was a young woman on a couch, crying, holding Rose!

  “Oh, my God!” Nora leaped forward, but just as her fingers almost touched Rose’s skin, an old woman in black who Nora hadn’t noticed wrested the baby from the woman on the couch and bolted to the other side of the room, gasping and staring at Nora with venomous eyes and an ugly purple scar from mouth to ear.

  It was the old woman from the train station. “You! You tried to kill me! Give me my baby, you bitch!”

  The man who had been at the front door grabbed Nora’s arm. “Nora, I’m Ariel! Please let me explain!”

  “Get your hands off me, you bastard!” She twisted but couldn’t break free.

  “Let go of her!” Nico landed a powerhouse punch on Ariel’s shoulder. He gave a howl of pain and fell back onto the couch. “Leah!” he gasped. The woman held him to her, wailing.

  Nora saw the older woman dash to the open bay window near the front door, screaming “Dirk! Dirk!”

  Before Nora and Nico could move, a brown-haired man burst in. Nora saw his bloodshot eyes dart from Amarisa—huddled in a far corner with Rose screeching in her arms—to Nora, to Nico. He drew a gun from his jacket and pointed it at them. “Don’t move.”