Death at the Orange Locks

by Anja de Jager

  ‘It’s all in the past. It’s been a while now. I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet your daughter last night,’ I said to change the topic.

  ‘She’s a teenager. She’s got better things to do on a Friday night than hang out with her parents, her grandfather and her grandmother-to-be. Fifteen going on twenty.’

  ‘Wow, fifteen. You and Michael don’t look old enough.’

  ‘I can get used to having a sister if she keeps giving me compliments,’ Elise said.

  ‘That can be my job description: official provider of compliments.’ I picked up my cup with my non-bandaged hand. Doing things with my left hand was awkward and I had to concentrate on not spilling my tea. All the talk about families and divorce had made me think about the problem I was trying to solve. ‘Can I ask you something about your work?’ I said. ‘I hope you don’t mind. It’s to do with a case I’m working on.’ I thought full disclosure was probably the best way to go.

  ‘Is this where you tell me what my rights are?’ She smiled to indicate that this was a joke.

  ‘You said something last night about strategy, and I wondered why companies would go for a new one.’

  She frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, if a company is looking for a new strategy, does that mean they’re in financial trouble?’

  Elise burst out laughing. My question must have been even funnier than the embarrassment around Nadia’s misidentification.

  ‘I’m guessing not,’ I said.

  ‘Sorry. No, it doesn’t mean that at all. It’s a natural thing for a company to do, to find new areas to sell to, new products, all of those things.’

  ‘Even if it’s a small firm?’

  ‘It’s a bit different if they’re trying to completely change everything they’re doing. That would be strange and a potential sign of trouble, but if they’re purely looking to add a new strategy, that would be good business sense.’

  ‘It’s a company that specialises in lighting. They’re not that big. Fewer than twenty employees.’

  ‘Are they profitable and expanding?’

  ‘I think so, but I’m not sure.’ I took a note of that question.

  ‘Are they keeping their old product lines and just trying out something new?’

  ‘I don’t really know.’ I wrote that down too.

  ‘Do they have trouble paying their bills?’ With every question, she was using easier language until she asked something that I could actually answer.

  ‘I talked to the woman who pays their invoices and she said not.’ I would double-check that with Karin.

  ‘To be honest,’ Elise said, ‘it sounds as if they’re fine. I would suggest talking to the person in charge of this new strategy. That’s the best way to find out.’

  That might be the best way to find out, but it was the one thing I really shouldn’t do.

  Instead, there was the perfect candidate to help me out. We didn’t get on and I had turned down the CI’s offer of her assistance, but I knew that it was time to eat humble pie.

  After I had left Elise’s house, I went directly to Stefanie Dekker’s office without even taking my coat off or dropping my handbag on my desk. Part of me wanted to avoid talking to Thomas for a bit longer, but also, if I had time to think, I might change my mind.

  Chapter 19

  ‘I need help,’ I said to Stefanie without preamble.

  ‘Really?’ she said. ‘I was told you were all set.’

  ‘Yeah, well, things have become complicated.’

  ‘Don’t they always?’

  ‘Even more than normal,’ I said.

  I could see that she had cut out and framed the article about her and hung it on the wall. It reminded me of the articles in Patrick’s office: whenever there was something to brag about, he seemed to have displayed it, and only the fact that the cut-outs weren’t recent indicated that currently there was nothing to celebrate.

  ‘Are you stuck with the financial side of a case? Is that why you’ve come running to me?’

  I already regretted coming here, but I didn’t say anything, because she was right.

  ‘There must be other people who can help you out, seeing as you were so adamant about turning down my offer of help in the first place.’

  ‘Don’t be like this.’

  She looked very smug. She was obviously enjoying herself. ‘Are all your friends busy doing something else? I thought you had that young kid traipsing around with you.’

  ‘Charlie? He’s not that young; I certainly wouldn’t call him a kid.’

  ‘He’s a kid compared to us.’ Stefanie tapped her pen on her notebook to get me to hurry up. ‘But you didn’t answer my question: isn’t he working with you?’

  ‘It’s a bit tricky,’ I said. ‘He and Thomas are working on one angle and they wanted me to work on the financial side.’

  Stefanie frowned. ‘You? But you’re terrible at that.’

  ‘I know,’ I said through gritted teeth.

  ‘You’re bad at it and it bores you to tears.’

  ‘I know.’ That was the issue, otherwise obviously I wouldn’t have been there.

  ‘Okay, well if it’s such a problem for you, I can make some time. Give me what you’ve got and I’ll look into it.’ She gave a theatrical sigh. ‘See, that’s the nice person I am. Plus, I think it would put me in your CI’s good books.’

  ‘That’s not quite what I had in mind,’ I said.

  ‘Why not? Didn’t you want me to check this for you so you can join Thomas and Charlie on whatever angle they’re pursuing?’

  I looked behind me. The door to the office was open and everybody in the corridor could hear what we were talking about. I got up and shut it. ‘They don’t want me involved in their part of the investigation.’

  ‘Oh, poor Lotte, have the boys excluded you?’ She couldn’t have been more sarcastic if she’d tried.

  ‘Yes, but that’s not it.’

  ‘Do they think you’re not good enough?’

  ‘It’s got nothing to do with that. It’s because I think they’ve got a suspect and I know the guy.’

  ‘Friend of yours?’

  ‘Hardly.’

  ‘Someone you slept with?’

  That made me laugh. ‘Yes, someone I slept with. My exhusband, in fact.’

  Stefanie gave me an open-mouthed stare. ‘Your exhusband? Didn’t he cheat on you?’

  ‘Yup. And the father of the girl he cheated on me with is the man who’s been murdered.’

  Stefanie grinned. ‘Why didn’t you say this at the beginning? It sounds too good to miss. Count me in. I guess you want me to help prove that he’s guilty?’

  ‘Guilty? No, I honestly can’t see him killing someone.’

  ‘Do you still like the guy?’

  ‘I hate his guts, but I can’t think of a single motive for the murder. Plus, I can’t see him bashing someone’s head in and then throwing his body in the canal while he’s still alive.’

  ‘Is that what happened?’

  ‘I think it’s Thomas’s working hypothesis right now, but we don’t even know yet where the victim was murdered.’

  Stefanie stared at me. ‘I understand why they’re keeping you away. You’re trying to pick holes in their investigation already.’

  ‘I don’t mean to. I just want to do my part of it properly.’

  ‘Because that could throw up a different suspect.’

  I shrugged. ‘Either way, it needs to be done.’

  ‘Sure, but now you suddenly care. You didn’t before, and you told the CI that you didn’t need my help. Now your ex is in the picture for it and you want to do it right.’

  ‘It’s also because Charlie is working with Thomas, leaving me by myself and—’

  ‘You protest too much,’ Stefanie interrupted me. ‘If what you’re actually asking me is to investigate this with you, I’ll happily help you out. Especially if it means seeing you squirm. Are we going to meet the new wife?’

  ‘God, I
sincerely hope not. My part is to focus on what happened in the victim’s company. There’s the financial side that I need your help with, but I think we should also follow up with a case of sexual harassment.’

  ‘Sexual harassment?’

  ‘He had one of the women working for him pinned up against the wall during a company do. Had to be pulled off her.’

  ‘Who? Your ex-husband?’

  ‘No, the guy who was murdered.’

  ‘Jesus. Well, that’s definitely an angle to look into.’

  ‘Yes. She has a boyfriend and he works for the same company.’

  ‘Was he there that evening?’

  ‘No, but he came to pick her up.’

  Stefanie nodded. ‘Okay, and then you want me to check if everything is all right with their financial situation?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘I have a feeling there were issues – they’d brought in a strategist to explore other avenues, but I have no idea what they were. I don’t even know how the company makes its money.’

  ‘You know none of that means there are financial problems, right?’

  ‘Yes, people keep telling me that. It’s just a niggle. You can set me straight immediately. Rule it out and that’s fine.’

  ‘Okay,’ Stefanie said. ‘Okay, I’ll help. I just want to ask one thing: what are you going to do if your ex actually did it?’

  Chapter 20

  ‘What the hell did you do to yourself?’Thomas said as soon as I walked into our office. Without breaking eye contact, he closed a folder on his desk and pushed it to the corner.

  He had found out something he didn’t want to share. I might try to have a peek when he went for lunch. I knew better than to ask him about it.

  ‘Oh, this?’ I said instead. I waved the hand with the bandage that the A&E nurse had so carefully put on. ‘I cut myself on some glass yesterday. It was a stupid accident. Four stitches.’

  It was of course possible that there was nothing in the folder about Arjen, but that Thomas wanted to exclude me in general.

  ‘That’s a big bandage for four stitches,’ Charlie said.

  ‘I’m sure it would be fine by now with just a plaster, but I got a seat on the tram this morning, so I might just keep it for a bit longer.’

  ‘I once had a cut on my hand,’ Charlie said. ‘They stitched it and put one of those kiddie plasters on. You know the ones I mean: with teddy bears. I looked like an idiot. I think it was the doctor’s idea of a joke.’

  ‘Had you been in a fight?’ Thomas said.

  ‘Nah, I came off my bike on a patch of ice and cut my hand on the brake levers. It was really nothing.’

  ‘Falling off your bike is a kiddie accident,’ Thomas said. ‘That’s why you got a kiddie plaster.’

  ‘I got my foot on the ground but my shoes were slippery too and there was no grip.’

  There was something unnatural about their conversation and the tone they were using.

  ‘I did some work this morning,’ I said brightly. ‘I talked to someone who works in product strategy to see if that would point towards financial issues. She said that the best person to ask is the one in charge of the new strategy, so that we can see what the purpose of the change was. Did you talk to Arjen about it when you interviewed him?’

  ‘You know what we talked about.’ Thomas’s voice was sharp. ‘You were watching every second of it.’

  There was no point denying it. ‘They established the exact time of death, then? You were focusing so much on that company dinner.’ At least I could pretend that I didn’t know he saw Arjen as a suspect.

  ‘We haven’t managed to locate the victim after the Clipper,’ Charlie said. ‘He didn’t use his card anywhere, made no calls. We tracked his phone. Unless he left it behind or switched it off, he didn’t go anywhere.’

  ‘But he was found on the opposite bank. That’s a three-hundred-metre drift. Isn’t it more likely that he crossed the river and was killed on the far side?’

  ‘He didn’t get on the ferry. It was the first thing we checked. There were only three crossings he could have taken before the ferry stopped running.’

  ‘He could have driven,’ I said.

  ‘His car was parked outside his apartment. It had been there all day.’

  ‘So he was murdered as he walked home.’

  ‘I think it happened behind the restaurant,’ Thomas said.

  ‘By a stranger? Someone he met?’ I obviously knew that this wasn’t his theory. ‘All the people from the company had left already.’

  ‘Someone could have come back,’ Thomas said.

  ‘What, on the off-chance that Patrick was still there?’

  ‘It was well known that he’d have a smoke before going home.’

  I could piece Thomas’s hypothesis together: Arjen had come back to the restaurant and killed Patrick as he was having a cigarette outside. ‘I think I should have a chat with the people at the Clipper. Look into their CCTV footage.’

  ‘I told you before that they don’t have CCTV at the back,’ Thomas said.

  If Thomas thought that Arjen had come back, had someone actually seen him? Or maybe he’d made a call from there and their suspicions were based on his mobile records. No, that didn’t make sense, because they would only have pulled his phone location records after they’d got suspicious about him.

  ‘I’d like to hear what the staff at the restaurant noticed about the group that night,’ I said. ‘Have you checked all of that already? Requested the CCTV footage from the restaurant area itself?’

  He shook his head.

  ‘Okay, let me look into it. We shouldn’t rule out the sexual harassment angle. Maybe I can see what happened during the dinner itself.’

  Thomas threw me a look that meant that he was considering stopping me, but he didn’t say anything.

  I went into the ladies’ and undid the bandage on my hand. The cut and the area around the stitches were deep red, but the rest of my finger felt fine. I did the exercises they’d given me at the hospital, then replaced the bandage with a sticky plaster. It was a huge improvement, even if it would no longer get me a seat on the tram. It looked far less dramatic now.

  I got on my bike and cycled over to the KNSM Island. It was a nice ride along the water on a sunny day. Even though it was still chilly, the air had a hint of warmth in it, a promise that spring was close. A band of thick dark cloud was looming on the horizon. On days like today, it was almost compulsory to be outside, because you never knew how long this weather would last. In a couple of hours, the rain might be back. I kept my hand safe in my pocket and let the afternoon sunshine caress my face. One of the advantages of being a police detective was that you weren’t stuck at your desk all day. I didn’t think I could do that. Cycling through the city was one of the perks of my job, and it gave me a sense of freedom.

  I locked my bike to the railings of the Clipper. I noticed the waiter who had served Karin and me the day we’d met there. He still had his hair tied back in a man bun. He smiled at me and came over. It was hard to tell if he recognised me or if that was his professional greeting for anybody who entered the place. It was a large space, too big for the number of people who were here this afternoon. Apart from me, there were only two other customers. That didn’t warrant the Clipper’s two floors. If a place like this wasn’t filled on a regular basis, it would go bust quickly.

  The waiter noticed that I was looking around but interpreted it in the wrong way and said I could sit anywhere I liked. I showed him my badge and told him I had some questions for the manager. His demeanour hardly changed. He’d call her over, he said. In the meantime, would I take a seat? I asked if he could bring me a cappuccino.

  It arrived with the message that the manager would be with me in a few minutes. I didn’t mind waiting. It gave me the chance to check out the place in more detail. When I’d been here with Karin, I hadn’t realised that this restaurant was going to be of importance. There was an open staircase in the centre. The upstairs are
a was half the size of downstairs and all the tables were at the back, by the window. It would be the best place to sit, giving a view over the water. If I hadn’t been here for work, that was where I would have wanted to sit. Staring at ships was endlessly fascinating. I’d probably caught the bug as a child, when my mother would take me to watch the boats clear the Orange Locks; or maybe she took me because I already loved watching the boats so much. Maybe I’d been unfair when I thought that we only went there because it was free of charge.

  It dawned on me how little I actually knew about what had happened the night of the company dinner. I didn’t know where the group had sat; I didn’t know at precisely what time everybody had arrived and left. I understood why Thomas had asked Arjen all those questions, but there was a much better way of doing this part of the investigation. In the corners I could see the round eyes of the restaurant’s CCTV system.

  I had just taken a note of where all of them were when the manager came over. She was a dark-skinned young woman, dressed in the black trousers and black shirt that seemed to be the uniform for this place.

  I introduced myself. ‘Can I ask you a couple of questions?’ I said. ‘Please have a seat. I’ll keep it short.’

  She reluctantly pulled out the chair opposite me. I got my notebook out. ‘Were you working on the night that Patrick van der Linde and his group came here?’

  ‘I was.’

  ‘Did you know him? Did he come here a lot?’

  ‘Yeah, this place is really close to his office, so they were here often.’

  ‘They were good clients.’

  She frowned. ‘He brought big groups here; they would have dinner and drink quite a bit, so yes. Good clients in that way.’

  I caught the edge of what she was saying. Her facial expression belied her words. ‘But not in other ways?’

  ‘Last time he was here, his credit card bounced and he got very angry.’

  ‘His card bounced? On the night of the company do?’

  ‘Yeah. And all the others had already left. He said he’d come back the next day to pay and that it was purely an issue with the bank. I said that wasn’t possible; that I was very sorry but it was such a large bill. If it had only been a bottle of wine, I would have let him off. But dinner for eight and drinks – it was too much.’