‘So where can we find him?’ asked Tanya.
‘Probably at the branch up near Centraal,’ he said. ‘But I should warn you, he doesn’t like cops.’
‘You know what?’ said Kees, leaning closer to the man. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting him already.’
Back in the car Tanya was feeling light-headed. She hoped this was going to be the last stop; she wasn’t sure she could take much more smoke. Her clothes smelt of it, and she was starting to think it’d got into her hair as well. She’d insisted on driving this time, but was already regretting it.
‘You remember that time we did this?’ asked Kees suddenly, not turning to look at her.
She just nodded, not wanting to have the conversation. Something wasn’t right with her head, or stomach. The back of her skull, which suddenly felt detached from the rest of her body, found its way to the headrest.
She could smell someone else’s perfume on it, something old-fashioned and heavy; musk, rich spice and flowers. It made her feel even worse.
‘It was the next day you chucked me,’ he said as she pulled to a stop at some lights, tourists swarming across the road in front of them. ‘I always wondered what that was about.’
Tanya didn’t know what to say.
‘Because maybe it would help, you know, clear the air,’ he said, turning to look at her.
Tanya concentrated on driving, feeling her hands gripping the wheel too hard.
Not now, she thought. Please can we not have this conversation now.
‘Turn here,’ he said suddenly.
‘Left, right?’ Relieved to be able to say something mundane, something not connected to their old relationship. But she still didn’t manage to keep the irritation out of her voice.
‘Left.’
‘Too late.’
‘Jeez,’ he said, throwing up his arms, his voice full of exasperation.
‘You didn’t give me enough warning!’
‘I could say the same thing, remember?’
‘So what do you want to hear?’ She slammed on the brakes and turned to face him. ‘That I was messed up, unhappy, that I didn’t know where my life was going and that I thought you were kind of an asshole? That when I tried to talk to you you wouldn’t listen? Is that it? Is that going to help clear the air for you?’
Kees stared ahead through the windscreen.
Tanya did the same. She saw a dog sniffing around an overflowing rubbish bin, and watched as a rat darted out from under a crumpled bag on to the tram lines, the dog giving chase.
‘Not really,’ he said after a few moments. ‘No.’
After that they stayed silent until pulling up in front of the Coffeeshop. When Tanya got out of the car her head spun, and she stood for a moment trying to get air into her lungs, hoping it would reach her brain, refresh it, clear it out.
‘Better let me do the talking,’ said Kees as they made their way inside. ‘You seem to have lost your voice.’
Wouter was in, and judging by the look on his face when they were ushered into his office at the back, his colleague had been right.
He really didn’t like cops.
The room smelt of stale air, but was smoke-free at least.
Tanya was thankful for that. She looked around, clocking the general state of the room. Wouter appeared to use the same filing system Kees did on his desk back at the station.
‘I’m guessing you know why we’re here?’ said Kees, picking up a sheet of paper from one of the piles nearest to him and giving it the once-over before looking back at Wouter.
Tanya could see Wouter didn’t look well. He was totally bald, she hadn’t seen skin tone like that outside of a morgue before, and he didn’t appear to have any eyebrows either. His eyes were bloodshot, and a stubble of red, white-tipped pimples dotted either side of his nose.
He’s like a rabbit demon, she thought. An earless, albino rabbit demon.
She pictured him sitting there, chomping on a massive carrot.
The sick feeling had gone now. In fact, she had to admit to herself, she was feeling pretty good.
She found she was stifling a laugh.
‘I got a call saying you were coming, yes,’ said Wouter.
‘Great,’ said Kees. ‘So I don’t need to explain myself, you can tell me what I need to know, and then we can get out of here.’
He pulled out the photos and flipped them over to Wouter, who picked them up reluctantly and gathered them into a pile. Tanya watched as he looked at each, hearing the swish as he slid the top one off the stack and replaced it on the bottom.
Third photo in he nodded.
‘Yeah, he came here. Trying to sell.’
Tanya took the photo from Wouter, seeing it was Teeven.
For some reason she found this funny and laughed.
‘And did you buy?’ said Kees, ignoring her.
‘Had to. Our regular supplier was having some customer fulfilment issues.’
‘Okay,’ said Kees, collecting up the remaining photos once Wouter had gone through them and shook his head. ‘So who is your regular supplier?’
Wouter scratched one of the pimples. Tanya watched it burst.
Pus oozed, white with a speck of blood.
‘I’m not sure I’m really allowed to say, seeing as—’
‘You’re allowed,’ said Kees. ‘I promise.’
Wouter sighed, took his finger away from his face, inspected it for a moment before wiping it on his sleeve.
‘What the hell, I don’t owe them anything. The normal guy we buy from was in here last week, trying to find out where we were getting our current stock from. He was kind of agitated, said some things which made me happy to have switched supply. And anyway, the new stuff’s cheaper.’
‘Is it the same?’ asked Tanya.
‘Same cultivars, for the most part. The customers haven’t been complaining.’
Tanya and Kees exchanged a look. Tanya realized it was the first time that day.
‘Name?’ said Kees. ‘I want to know his name.’
Wouter sat back in his chair, peered at the ceiling.
Kees thrust a photo of Rutte at him, Wouter glanced down.
Tanya thought she saw him flinch.
‘Well?’ said Kees.
Wouter shrugged.
‘My memory’s bad,’ he said. ‘Must be all the smoke.’
36
Sunday, 9 May
19.23
The building was a seventeenth-century canal house, still standing strong after all these years, with tall elegant windows, all beautifully proportioned. It was bespoke, built for a wealthy merchant, just as all the buildings along this stretch were, and had been intended as a statement. Jaap wondered what the original owner had traded in; coffee perhaps, or spices or gold.
He also wondered what the original owner would think of the flickery neon sign which had been attached to the wall, a moving outline of a man thrusting back and forth into a woman, who was bent down, clasping her ankles, her head angled towards passers-by.
SHOW STARTS AT 20.00, said the sign on the railings lower down.
Jaap checked the door, but found it closed.
Blinker’s address was less than ten minutes’ walk away, so he headed there. He wanted to know why he’d been visiting Teeven in jail. And why Teeven had stopped seeing him.
Blinker lived in a houseboat on the quay leading up to the Nemo building, which jutted out into the IJ. The Nemo was a museum, and, judging by the clientele Jaap saw there in the day, it was for kids. But beyond that he had no idea what it was about, what was actually inside.
Guess I’d better find out, he thought. I could take Floortje there when she’s a bit older.
He loved seeing the look of fascination she got on her face when presented with something new. She was a bold baby, not scared at all, ever curious about the world around her. For a moment he was struck again by the fact that he had a daughter, that part of him had become a separate being. His job involved tracking down k
illers, people who ended life, and no matter how many of those people he caught it was never going to make up for the deaths they caused.
But now he had actually added something to the world, a life.
Jaap reached the steps leading to Oosterdok and went down, noticing a used needle near the bottom step. Kids came down here on their way to Nemo. He looked round for a bin, then kicked it into the water when he couldn’t find one.
On his left large yachts and barges – some converted into houseboats, some still seaworthy – floated. A man was scraping at a rust patch on the hull of one, just above the waterline, a cat sitting watching on the quay beside him. Jaap could hear the quiet friction of the man’s work. He suddenly felt a yearning for a simpler life.
Maybe I should give this up, he thought. Find a job which doesn’t mean I’m always chasing people, something which has normal hours. Spend more time with Floortje.
He found Blinker’s midway up, the Somni four-five-one. It was a barge, the hull above the waterline painted in a psychedelic array of colours; swirling rainbows, fantastical creatures and humanoid aliens with placid facial features and dark oval eyes.
Typical, thought Jaap. He’s a sex pest, and he’s into hippy shit.
A hand-painted sign gave times for ‘gatherings’, which were open to all seekers regardless of age, faith or sexual orientation. Someone had written below this in a much cruder hand, ‘Except fucking bankers.’
‘Please,’ said a voice from the stern. ‘Come on board.’
Jaap ascended the wooden ramp, which led at a steep angle up to the deck, and was greeted by Blinker, who looked different, and not only as he was fully clothed.
He’d cut his hair shorter for one, and was wearing clothes which made him look like a waiter in an expensive Indian restaurant, loose flowing trousers and a shirt which went down past his knees.
All white.
‘Inspector Rykel! I’m so happy to see you,’ said Blinker, his pale silver hair catching the light, sideburns sweeping down each jawline. ‘I’ve thought about you many times over the years, and I’ve been meaning to thank you for showing me a new way of living.’
‘I just arrested you for waving your cock about in front of women, didn’t I?’ said Jaap, surprised that Blinker remembered him.
Though at least more favourably than Teeven did, he thought.
‘It was so much more. I believe that people appear when we need them most, only most are not lucky enough to recognize these meetings for what they are,’ said Blinker, showing Jaap an open palm and motioning him to the stern, where a table with five chairs was set out. Buddha heads competed with flower pots on deck, the effect ruined by several bags of fertilizer strewn about.
Jaap sat and looked at the floating palace on the far side of Oosterdok, a massive Disneyesque interpretation of an oriental pagoda, which on its several floors served up a mismatch of pseudo-eastern dishes mostly drenched in the same gloopy MSG-laden sauce.
Tourists loved it.
‘So what, other than the long-overdue opportunity to thank you, can I do for you?’ said Blinker, sitting down on an armless chair and pulling his legs into a full lotus. The soles of his feet were dirty.
‘Thank me for what?’
‘Showing me what I was doing wrong. I didn’t see it at the time, but you arresting me, and getting me convicted, was the turning point, the fantastic moment which allowed me to pivot the fulcrum of my life towards more positive energy.’
Jaap knew that hallucinogenic mushrooms, usually imported from South America, had been banned in the Netherlands years previously after a young tourist took some and decided she could fly, testing her skill off the nearest canal bridge. Not only did the mushrooms not give her the power of flight, they apparently robbed her of the ability to swim.
Some must still be getting through, thought Jaap.
‘Do you charge for these gatherings?’
Blinker looked momentarily uncomfortable.
‘I … Just a small donation, to help cover costs.’
‘I see,’ said Jaap. ‘And you’re not waving it about during them?’
Blinker put on a hurt look.
‘Inspector, I’m a changed man, reborn if you like, a chrysalis which has burst open with the full potential of human life. Surely you of all people believe in the power of redemption?’
Jaap looked out at the water, a large patch of petrol marbling the surface with metallic colours. Having put countless people into the penal system, and seeing how many of them reoffended, he wasn’t sure he did.
‘Seriously? Come on, drop the act. I can see you’ve got something profitable going on here, so you just tell me what I need to know and I won’t feel compelled to delve into your set-up.’
Blinker sighed, uncrossed his legs, rummaged around in his clothing and pulled out a cigarette and lighter.
‘Look, I came out of prison and couldn’t get a job. I had to do something,’ he said as he flipped the cigarette into his mouth, cupped the lighter and guided the flame until the two met. ‘And I’m not hurting anyone, you know? Actually, I think I may have helped a couple of people.’
‘Quite coincidentally.’
‘Hey, help’s help, you know?’ said Blinker, blowing out smoke.
Jaap did know. Who was he to criticize? He’d spent all that time studying under Yuzuki Roshi in Kyoto, and there were plenty of people who thought that was downright strange.
‘Okay, let’s leave it. Tell me about Martin Teeven. I know you visited him in jail.’
‘Teeven … Yeah, I did, until the fucker stopped seeing me.’
A gull swooped down from the sky, hydroplaning webbed orange feet on to the water. Jaap watched the ripples expand out. He thought about small actions with big consequences.
‘Why were you seeing him?’
‘It’s kind of complicated,’ Blinker said, fiddling with his cigarette.
‘I’m sure I can cope.’
Blinker looked out across the Oosterdok to the footbridge crossing the water like a taut bow.
‘We shared a cell for a bit, and despite the fact he was a total asshole we kind of struck up a relationship. And then we found out we’d both been busted by you. I tell you, he really hated your guts. Like serious hate, totally wound up over it.’
‘Did he ever talk about getting revenge?’
‘Are you kidding? He basically talked of nothing else. He was obsessed, really obsessed. Mania doesn’t do it justice.’
I guess I should be relieved he’s dead, thought Jaap.
‘And the thing is,’ said Blinker, ‘it was sheer displacement, or whatever the word is.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, the person he was really angry with was the one who he’d gone to jail for.’
A picture was starting to form; Jaap was getting the feeling he’d been wrong.
‘Bart Rutte?’ he asked.
Blinker looked surprised.
‘You know him?’
‘Not personally. So what did Rutte threaten him with?’
‘He never talked about it, there was just one night, he’d got into a fight and had a bunch of stitches. I think they totally overdosed him with painkillers or something ’cause he was all slurred, and he mentioned it, right before going to sleep. Something about he was only there because Rutte had threatened to kill his mother. But he never said anything about that again. And the thing is, I heard his mother died a few weeks before he got out. Some cancer. Probably caused by the worry of her son being in prison, negative energy and stuff.’
Jaap could feel a tingle in his stomach. He’d been wrong, but it was now starting to come together.
‘So Teeven had worked for Rutte before?’
‘Am I getting paid for this or what?’
‘Had he?’
‘Yeah, Rutte had a drug thing going, Teeven was kind of like his right-hand man. Funny how these business relationships always go sour in the end.’
The tingle amped up from low
to high.
‘So when did you last see Teeven?’
‘Has he gone missing?’
‘You’re not a news man?’
‘Why?’
‘Because Teeven was killed yesterday. Are you telling me you hadn’t heard?’
‘I … Killed? I don’t listen to the news. It’s all bad, you know?’
Jaap thought Blinker was telling the truth, he seemed genuinely shocked.
‘So when did you last see him?’
‘Hey, this isn’t going to come back on me, is it? I don’t want anything to do with …’
‘If you know anything I’ll keep your name out of it.’
Blinker peered out over the water, rubbing an ear lobe between thumb and forefinger.
He turned back to Jaap.
‘Couple of months back, I got a call out of the blue and we met up.’
‘What did he want?’
‘Well …’
‘He’s dead, right? So you need to tell me.’
Blinker went back to his ear lobe.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘You’re right. Okay, he came to offer me in on a job, but I turned him down.’
‘And I’m guessing this job had something to do with drugs.’
‘Seemed pretty dangerous to me. He said he knew all these houses where cannabis was being grown, and he needed a few people to help him break in and steal the crop.’
‘How did he know where the houses were?’
‘I dunno, I didn’t ask. But he did tell me they were Rutte’s. Not my kind of scene really. Flashing guns around and everything. I heard he hooked up with some people, foreigners, got them interested in it. Looks like it didn’t turn out so well.’
37
Sunday, 9 May
19.39
After the Coffeeshops Tanya suggested they go back to the station, and Kees had driven, in silence, and was now at his desk across the room from her.
She was feeling bad about snapping at him earlier.
But the fact was, he’d provoked her. And she was tired. Tired and frustrated and being pulled in so many directions she didn’t know which way to turn.
Which wasn’t fair.
But, as Staal had used to say, neither’s life.
And maybe it had been something to do with all the cannabis she’d inhaled second hand, opening things up. The effect, she had to admit, hadn’t been unpleasant in the end.
Into the Night: Inspector Rykel Book 2 (Amsterdam Quartet) Page 15
