‘We haven’t got enough to arrest Verhoef for Patrick’s murder,’ Thomas said.
I shook my head. ‘We won’t arrest him for murder.’ I turned to Stefanie. ‘We’ll arrest him for financial fraud.’
Chapter 37
We were outside Nico’s flat again. Even if there was still a full-scale terror investigation going on, that didn’t mean there weren’t enough officers to support us as we were about to arrest a murderer. I knocked on the door to the flat, my gun ready. There was no response. I waited. Nothing. On my signal, one of my colleagues bashed the door in.
The flat was empty. When I looked in the bedroom, the wardrobes were half empty too. I’d been wrong: even having Arjen in custody didn’t make Nico feel safe. He had run after all.
‘Call in his licence plate,’ I said to Stefanie. ‘We need to trace his car and stop him.’ She didn’t even say anything snarky like suggesting I do it myself. I called the Schiphol police and asked them to run the passenger list for a Nico Verhoef.
‘Singapore.’ The answer came back quickly. ‘He’s booked on a flight to Singapore in an hour.’
‘Whereabouts is he? There’s an arrest warrant out for him,’ I said.
‘He’s airside. He’s gone through security already.’ The man’s voice was calm. ‘Leave it with us.’
Nothing like an airport full of armed police to make a nice clean arrest. I wasn’t even nervous.
‘See,’ Stefanie said. ‘If it wasn’t for fraud, you would never have been on time.’
‘You’re right,’ I said. ‘If it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t have been able to arrest him.’
‘Let’s go to Schiphol,’ she suggested.
‘No,’ I said. ‘We should leave that to the airport police. We’ll stay here and do our job.’
I put on my nitrile gloves and began to search the flat to see if I could find something that linked Nico to Patrick’s murder. I only stopped to answer a call fifteen minutes later. The Schiphol police had picked Nico up and detained him.
I thanked the officer and went back to my search.
I found what I needed stashed in a corner of the wardrobe, hidden underneath a pile of jumpers. It was as if he’d kept it as a souvenir of what he’d done. Maybe he needed this reminder. I might not have thought anything of what I was holding in my hands if I hadn’t known the exact shape of what I was looking for. Even though it was washed clean, forensics would be able to find blood traces.
What made someone do something like this? Why leave this behind when you were leaving the country? Had he forgotten it was there?
Either way, here was the evidence we required.
He’d kept the brick.
Chapter 38
My mother looked beautiful in her pink dress – which she insisted on calling red. I had to admit that this wedding ceremony was rather sweet. I sat next to Mark and held his hand. It helped me not to cry. The registrar looked just as happy as the couple.
They had decided not to get married in church and I was pleased about that. Instead, it was just a small affair in the town hall. Elise and I were the witnesses. Richard had joked that we could be flower girls or maids of honour, but luckily Elise had been as little enamoured with that idea as I was. Instead, we signed the register as our parents got married.
The reception afterwards was an informal affair. There was no official line for congratulations; people just milled around. My mother and her new husband were doing the rounds. I saw them go up to Arjen and Nadia. I didn’t join her on their tour of the room. I stayed behind and chatted with Mark, Elise and Michael.
A few minutes later, Arjen came over. I made the introductions. ‘Michael you’ve met before,’ I said.
Michael grinned. Arjen didn’t get what we were laughing about, but I didn’t bother explaining.
‘Thanks, Lotte,’ he said, ‘for getting me out.’
I shrugged. ‘You didn’t do it. It wasn’t a big deal.’
‘We didn’t bring Iris.’
‘Iris?’
‘Our daughter.’
‘Lovely name. It’s a shame you didn’t,’ I said. ‘My mother would have liked to have her here.’
I wasn’t being magnanimous, just honest. My mother would have liked it, and I realised it didn’t hurt any more. Instead of the man I used to love, I now saw the current man in Arjen’s face. The thinning hair, the skin that sagged around his jawline. I’d successfully severed the ties to the past.
We talked amicably, like acquaintances at parties do, but quickly ran out of things to say.
‘Anyway,’ Arjen said after we’d fallen silent, ‘Margreet said hi.’
‘How’s she doing?’
‘Better now she’s finally arranged the funeral. Also we were relieved that Patrick had some life insurance so she can stay in the flat.’
‘I hope there’ll be a good turn-out.’
‘Will you come?’
‘I don’t think so,’ I said. ‘I have no reason to be there.’
Arjen nodded, and when I didn’t say anything more, he said goodbye and strolled over to Nadia.
The old part of my life walked away, and I turned away from him to go back to talking to Mark, Elise and Michael.
My new life.
Acknowledgements
I want to thank everybody who helped me with this book. I’m fortunate to work with a great team of people. In Allan Guthrie from The North Literary Agency, I have a fantastic writer as my agent. My editor Krystyna Green, editorial manager Amanda Keats, copyeditor Jane Selley and all at Constable and Little, Brown have worked hard to make this book the best it could possibly be.
Finally, I want to thank all the readers who continue to enjoy my books.
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