After the Silence: Inspector Rykel Book 1 (Amsterdam Quartet) (10 page)

Tuesday, 3 January
08.34

‘It’s got to be around somewhere,’ said Jaap looking in the glove compartment. ‘Check the boot, would you?’

Kees got out and checked.

‘Nothing here,’ he said after a few moments.

‘Well, I’m not paying the fine. When you take the car back check who had it last, and why they didn’t leave it.’

‘Probably took it home, I heard someone say they did that.’

The badges exempting unmarked cars from parking tickets had been introduced as a cost-cutting measure. The fact that they blew the car’s unmarked status hadn’t crossed the minds of whichever genius had come up with the scheme.

‘I need to make a call, then we’ll go,’ said Jaap, slamming shut the glove compartment door.

He dialled Karin, his beautiful, confident sister, who’d been working as an army medic for ISAF in Afghanistan. She’d been so excited to be deployed, and he’d seen her off.

Eight months later she came back.

But she hadn’t really returned.

They kept her on meds and gave her therapy, but she still had attacks which only Jaap’s presence seemed able to calm. And on Sunday she’d called, and he could tell by her
voice that she was worse than usual. Which was why he didn’t go with Andreas.

But she wasn’t answering her phone now. He knew that sometimes she didn’t get up until well past lunchtime.

‘Okay, let’s go,’ he said to Kees as they started out.

The air, honed overnight like a knife, cut into his face. Earlier Jaap had noticed ice starting to creep in from the canal edges, crooked fingers reaching out for each other. Another few days of the same weather and the fingers would meet in the middle and it might even become solid enough to skate on.

‘What background have you managed to get on Korssen?’ Jaap asked.

‘No record, but that’s not really a surprise. He’s rich, he has to be to live here. And he invests in businesses, often ones which need some kind of help. Carolien van Zandt said that Friedman’s business was in trouble a few years ago and that Korssen got on board to help out.’

They lapsed into silence as they walked and Jaap thought back to Saskia. She’d taken it hard. But then who wouldn’t? Everything was going well, she was with someone she loved and they were about to have their first child. Then her whole world exploded.

I should have gone with Andreas
, he thought as they found the address,
then he might still be alive.

As they stood in front of the building Kees whistled. The house was a late-nineteenth-century structure and the back would look over Vondelpark, a position which could make even the most level-headed Amsterdammer say
Hey
to the green-eyed monster.

‘Doesn’t look like he’s short of cash,’ Kees said as he
pressed the bell, holding his finger on the button, tip turning white from the pressure.

Two-tone bells oscillated back and forth.

Jaap could feel Kees’ impatience, though he got the impression that was more to do with the fact he’d thought the case was his.

After a few moments the door opened, and a figure, taller than Jaap, wearing a light pink-and-white striped shirt tucked into the kind of jeans that looked messy but cost a fortune, stood there looking down at them.

‘Yes?’ His tone of voice implied that a major inconvenience was taking place.

‘Rint Korssen?’

A siren zoomed behind them, the pitch drooping as it passed by.

‘Yes, are you the police?’

‘Inspector Rykel. And this is Inspector Terpstra.’ Korssen glared at Kees, who’d only just taken his finger off the bell.

‘Come in.’

He stepped aside and once they’d moved over the threshold into the warmth Korssen closed the door behind them.

‘Straight through to the end,’ he said and Jaap walked, followed by Kees, his shoes feeling like they were scratching the highly polished walnut floor.

Sure he can afford to get it fixed
, thought Jaap.

The back of the house, as he’d suspected, looked over the Vondelpark, but what he hadn’t expected was that the whole building had been remodelled on the inside, and instead of being made up of several different rooms as it would originally have been, there was now a modern, cavernous space.
And the far wall, instead of being brick with a few windows, was a huge sheet of glass giving not so much a view of the Vondelpark, but a feeling of being in it.

Korssen followed them, gestured to a table at the kitchen end of the room and asked if they’d like a drink.

Jaap refused, but Kees had accepted and they now had to watch as Korssen prepared the drinks from a stainless-steel machine which looked like it needed a degree in mechanics to operate.

Jaap took the opportunity to assess him. He was a large man, but not in any way slow. His skin was that of a Scandinavian nudist. Toned arms showed he worked out, and on first glance you might mistake him for a trim forty-year-old. But on closer inspection, a slight bulge of middle-age spread, and the skin on the backs of his hands not being as taut as maybe it could be, led Jaap to believe he was more likely at the upper end of his fifties.

He appeared self-assured – he didn’t feel the pressure to talk, like most people who were confronted with two police Inspectors usually did to hide their nervousness – like a man happy with his place in the world.

Once he’d brought the coffee, served in the most delicate porcelain cups Jaap had ever seen, he sat down opposite and finally turned his attention to them.

‘What do you think?’ he nodded to the cup in Kees’ hand. ‘I’ve got a friend who imports this stuff, hideously expensive of course, but like they say, life’s too short to drink bad coffee.’ He took a sip and sighed before continuing. ‘But anyway, Jaap, you’re obviously here because of Dirk. Big shock to us all. When I heard
from Carolien I was …’ He paused, an ostentatious search for the right word with eyes roving the ceiling. ‘… devastated.’

His voice, changed now from its earlier aggressiveness, had the languid speech of those accustomed to getting their own way.

Why are these people always so arrogant?
wondered Jaap.

Was it because of their success, or were they successful because of that very arrogance, that quality of self-belief, their assurance that they were better, cleverer, stronger and more ruthless than anyone else?

Whatever it was, Jaap didn’t like it.

‘What was your relationship exactly? I hear you got involved with the business a few years ago, when it was in financial trouble?’

‘Dirk didn’t start out life as a businessman. He was actually a teacher, physical education, I seem to remember, and he inherited the business from his uncle. Totally out of the blue apparently. So there he was one minute running round a field blowing a whistle at some brats playing football or whatever, and the next thing he’s handed the keys to a business turning over millions of euros. And all credit to him he did become a great front man, though quite how he managed it I don’t know. His previous career choice wouldn’t have led anyone to believe he had the charm or guile needed for that kind of role. But finance was not his strong point, counting goals was probably about the extent of his abilities, and then his divorce cost him more than he could really afford, and he’d taken money from the business to cover it. Big mistake, as that meant he couldn’t meet some of the business’s obligations.’

Jaap watched the self-satisfied smile reach Korssen’s lips, two slugs parting after sex.

‘And so you stepped in?’

‘I was introduced by a mutual friend whom Dirk had asked for a loan. Which he’d refused of course. But he knows that I’m always on the look-out for investment opportunities so we were put in touch.’

‘I’m guessing that you didn’t offer him a loan though.’

‘What am I, a charity?’ he laughed. ‘No, the terms were very clear, I took a controlling interest in the business.’

‘What did Friedman think of that?’

Korssen shrugged. ‘He wasn’t jumping for joy, if that’s what you mean, but he was days away from the business collapsing, having to lay off all the staff, so he didn’t have much choice.’

‘Was the business in trouble because of the recession?’

Korssen took another sip and then dabbed at his lips with a napkin.

‘No more than anyone else. There has been a bit of a slow-down, but really it was financial mismanagement, by Dirk, which caused the problem.’

Jaap sat back slightly in his chair. By the sound of things he would have thought Korssen would be the one in line to be bumped off, not Friedman.

‘So what happens now?’

‘You mean to the business? Well, we had a clause that in the event of either of the shareholders dying his estate would inherit the shares.’

‘In Dirk’s case who would that be?’

‘You’d have to talk to his lawyer about that.’

‘Apparently he doesn’t have any children?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘Current girlfriend, partner?’

‘Again, I don’t really know. He divorced before I met him. But like I said, we weren’t close personally, we met once a month to discuss business and that was it.’

I bet
, thought Jaap,
those meetings were a whole lot of fun
.

‘There is one thing though,’ continued Korssen, as if just remembering. ‘I saw him at a restaurant last week, Tuesday I think it was, and he was with someone, a man. And he seemed really uncomfortable, nervous almost. Don’t know why really, I don’t care what sort of road he treads outside business hours, as long as it doesn’t affect his work.’

‘Is that what you had your argument about?’

‘And which one would that be?’

‘The one on Thursday evening, at Friedman’s office.’

‘You are well informed. Or rather, partly well informed. We had a discussion at the office, it’s true, but nothing out of the ordinary. It’s the kind of thing which has to go on in a business every now and then, work out differences, and I’m sorry to say that Dirk was never very good at taking orders – too pig-headed – which is why he ended up in financial difficulty in the first place.’

‘So the argument was about what, specifically?’

Korssen sighed, glanced at his watch.

‘We’ve been planning an expansion for a while now, but Dirk kept putting up reasons why it wouldn’t work. Russians are enjoying a new prosperity, and we need to have a presence there.’

‘And he didn’t agree?’

‘He was coming round to see my side of things.’

‘You can give us the name of this restaurant?’

Korssen gave it to him and Jaap wrote it down, not one he knew. In all probability one he’d never be able to afford to know either.

‘And if it was you who’d died?’ he asked Korssen.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Who would inherit your share?’

Korssen looked at him for a moment, nothing changing in his gaze.

‘I’m not sure how that’s really relevant?’

‘It’s relevant.’

For a moment Jaap thought he wasn’t going to answer.

‘In the event of my death my share would pass to my brother, though he doesn’t know that.’

‘Can I take it you’re not married or in a relationship then?’

The smile which blossomed this time was real and he laughed the laugh of an alpha male, the leader of the pack whose duty it was to always come first in whatever endeavour he undertook.

‘I have what you would call a rich and varied social life.’

‘Meaning that you get through women quickly.’

‘You make it sound so cold, but yes, there is …’ He coughed gently. ‘… a rapid turnover.’

He’s totally in love with himself
, thought Jaap,
but is he a killer?

He got up to leave, pushing the chair back, Kees doing the same.

‘Last question, where were you Sunday night?’

‘At an event.’ Korssen slipped the watch off his wrist, the right, Jaap noticed, and slid it across the table. ‘One of my other investments is Helmstok.’

Jaap looked at the watch. It was huge, with all sorts of, as far as he could tell, useless extra dials and numbers littering the face. Telling the time on one of these would be problematic at best.

‘We were launching a new watch, and we had a party at the Hotel De L’Europe.’

‘And you were there all night?’

‘It started at eight but I was there from about four making sure that everything was in place, and at the event, which was very successful, by the way, there were at least a hundred and fifty of Amsterdam’s richest people.’

‘And what time did you leave?’

‘Probably about one in the morning. You understand that there was a certain amount of champagne being drunk so it’s hard to be totally exact, but I was with a close friend afterwards, I went to her place, stayed for a couple of hours, and then got a cab home.’

‘You’ll be able to give us the cab company’s number, and that of your close friend?’

Jaap saw his eyelids flicker.

‘To be honest I can’t really remember, I picked one up just outside her place, in the Jordaan.’

‘Did you call for it?’

‘No, I’d decided to walk but then I saw a cab and thought I’d rather do that. I had had a few drinks after all.’

‘So in that case why not just stay there with your friend, whose details I’d like by the way, rather than coming home?’

‘I love women, Inspector,’ said Korssen, stretching his arms over his head, making something click, ‘but I’ve reached the age where I like to sleep in my own bed, you know?’

Tuesday, 3 January
08.41

Tanya was sitting on a bed.

A hospital bed.

Her jeans were draped over the back of the chair in the corner of the room. A mobile screen – folds of institution-green fabric against the far wall – partially obscured a frosted window which looked, if she guessed right, out over the car park.

She felt slightly embarrassed by her underwear, firmly in the designed for comfort not looks category, but when she’d dragged herself out of bed, her leg throbbing with each heartbeat and hot to the touch, she’d had other things on her mind.

She had so much to do, talking to Geertje’s husband about the child he saw with the Van Delfts, and then getting down to Amsterdam, a good two-hour drive, to meet Inspector Rykel.

She’d wondered about bandaging the leg up herself, but once she’d flicked the light on and looked at it properly she decided it needed a professional and drove herself straight to the hospital, every time she braked a new shot of pain running up her leg.

The junior doctor was, she had to admit to herself – at
least on the basis of the last twenty minutes – just the kind of guy she would be happy to spend some time with, if, of course, she was looking.

Which she wasn’t.

Definitely wasn’t.

But still, it was a real shame she’d not put on something at least a little more glamorous, if nothing else just for her own sense of pride. He’d spotted her tattoo, the two-headed snake coiling up her inner thigh, though he’d not commented.

She’d had it done when she was seventeen, an act of defiance which hadn’t gone unnoticed at home. And later, every man she’d been with had been fascinated by it, though she’d never told any of them its real significance.

As he pushed the needle into a spot just above her knee she flinched, her leg jerking upwards, hitting him in the shin.

‘Sorry.’

‘No worries, it’s practically impossible to stop that reflex. I did have a patient a few years ago though, a really old guy, and he didn’t react at all to any injection, it was like he couldn’t feel anything.’ He pulled the needle out, dropped it into the foot-operated bin, and then started swabbing the wound. ‘So one day he was lying down, and I was going to give him the injection as normal, but instead I pinched his other arm, and you know what?’

‘He felt it?’

‘He didn’t just feel it, he jumped out of his skin.’ He pushed back, riding the wheeled stool to the desk behind him, where he picked up the sterile stitch kit and then glided over to her again.

‘Turns out that he was in a camp, during the war? He’d
actually been used for what they called “medical experiments” and he’d taught himself not to feel the needles they kept shoving in him. Like he literally couldn’t feel them, blanked it out of his mind somehow, and it stayed. But anything else, stubbing his toe or getting a paper cut, he really felt it.’

‘Amazing. Is that true?’

He looked up, mock shock in his eyes, then he smiled.

‘Hey, you’re the detective, you tell me.’

She gave him a look.

‘Well, okay.’ He stood up and peeled off his latex gloves. ‘You’re good to go, I’ve stitched it up, they’ll dissolve so you don’t need to get them removed.’

He was out the door but stuck his head back in.

‘And I also put something else on there, a little extra.’

She looked down, and sure enough, on the bandage which was now covering the wound, there were scrawled a name and phone number.

As she pulled into the street where Arend had his workshop, searching for number 19 among the small industrial units, the sun lifted above the building at the end of the road, making her grab for the sun visor.

After Geertje’s call yesterday evening all the fear that she’d felt before flooded back. She’d
known
there had been a child, but Bloem hadn’t taken her seriously. And thinking about it, maybe that was her fault, maybe she should have pushed it more, stood her ground, not let him waste most of her day with what amounted to little more than stupid errands.

An oily crow jabbed at something on the road, then launched itself into the air.

She found 19 and pulled the car to a stop just outside. Frost covered the concrete and she could hear the sound of a saw, buzzing somewhere off to her left.

The man who swung the door open – the metal screeching along the concrete floor – was short, shorter than her, with a head of loose black curls, and a jumper so splattered in what looked like mud it was hard to tell what colour it had started out.

‘Arend?’

‘Yeah, you must be Sergeant van der Mark? Come in.’

She followed him down a corridor into a wide-open room, the glass ceiling saturating the area with light.

‘So you’re a potter?’ she asked, making sense of all the equipment, and the two kilns at the far end of the room.

‘Yeah, hardly anyone does this kind of thing by hand any more, but you get such a superior finish that machine-made just doesn’t do.’ He picked up a round, delicate black bowl and handed it to Tanya, the swooping curves reminding her of a tulip with wilting petals.

‘I started about eight years ago, just me on my own, and now I’ve had to take on two apprentices to help with the work load.’

‘Beautiful.’ She handed it back. But she was not here to look at pottery.

As if reading her mind he placed it down and said, ‘But you’re not here for this. When Geertje told me about your visit yesterday … It made me remember about seeing them with this child, and I thought it was strange but then kind of forgot about it. I mean, we didn’t really know them, they could have been looking after someone else’s kid, or maybe a grandchild of theirs, though we thought they didn’t have
children. So it wasn’t really any of my business.’ He picked a bit of clay off his sleeve, and crumbled it between forefinger and thumb. ‘But then when Geertje told me about your conversation …’ He shook his head. ‘I hope that they were just looking after her for the day. It would be terrible if she’d died in the fire as well.’

‘We’re pretty sure that she didn’t.’ She looked across at one of the kilns, the mouth revealing a deep, orange glow inside. ‘But that means that we need to find out who she was. Where exactly did you see them?’

‘There’s that cafe, on Gouverneursplein? The one by the art gallery?’

She knew the place, it was where she’d told Wilhelm that things weren’t working out between them.

It had not been a pretty scene.

‘I’d just dropped off a new piece for a customer round there on Saturday and saw them coming out. At first I didn’t recognize them, I guess the fact they had a child threw me, but as I walked past I could tell it was them.’

‘Did you talk to them?’

She could hear footsteps behind her, coming towards them.

‘No, it was weird, it was like they’d seen me and didn’t want to be noticed. I mean, we hardly knew them, but even so, we’re kind of the only neighbours they’ve got …’ He shrugged, then greeted the owner of the footsteps, who walked over to the right-hand kiln. ‘But, who knows, I guess they were just really private people.’

‘What time was this?’

‘Would have been about ten, ten-thirty?’

‘And you’re sure the child was with them?’

He nodded. ‘No doubt. Eva van Delft was doing her coat up for her.’

‘And what did she, the child I mean, look like?’

‘I couldn’t really see her face, her coat had one of those hoods with fur all around the rim, but I’m pretty sure she had red hair, like yours, kind of long.’

Bloem’s going to have to listen to me now,
she thought, a tendril of excitement wrapping round her stomach,

‘Anything else noticeable about her? What sort of age do you think she was?’

He screwed his eyes up, before opening them again.

‘About five or six I’d say, same as my two.’

‘Can you think of anyone who’d want to burn down their house?’

He shook his head before answering.

‘No, I mean, we didn’t really know them so it’s not like we even knew who their friends were, let alone any enemies.’

Arend’s colleague dropped something; the loud clatter made them both jump.

‘So you think they had friends?’

‘Well …’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘… now you mention it, not really.’

She thanked him and made her way back to her car. As soon as she got moving her phone went.

Bloem.

‘I thought I told you to check this,’ he said when she answered.

‘Check what?’

‘The house, who owned it.’

‘You didn’t.’

‘Well, I did. But anyway, I’ve done it now and it turns
out the Van Delfts were only renting, so I need you to go and talk to their landlord.’

‘Listen, I’ve had confirmation that the Van Delfts had a child with them over the weekend, so I really think we need –’

‘Just go and talk to this guy, I’ve spoken to him and he’s expecting you. And come back here when you’re done.’

He gave her the address on the east side of town, which Tanya was pretty sure did live sex shows.

Surprised he didn’t want to go there himself
, she thought as she hung up and swung the car around.

As she pulled into the half-empty car park ten minutes later, crushed beer cans littering the ground like miniature ships on a grey frozen sea, she spotted a guy, beer gut bulging under his tight designer T-shirt.

Her dashboard thermometer read one degree; maybe it was the hair on his arms, so hairy he appeared to be at least two steps back down the evolutionary ladder, that allowed him to go outside without more on.

Once she’d parked he ambled over, she lowered the passenger side window, and he introduced himself as Saar Kloots. He looked like the kind of guy who would leer at her whilst she was out with friends.

I can’t even remember the last time I went out with them all
, she thought.

Not wanting to go inside to talk she reluctantly leant across and opened the passenger door. He got in, bringing both the cold and a strong aftershave, polluting the entire airspace in the car within seconds. True to form his eyes slid up and down her body – a reptile on a rock –
before he settled into the seat, legs splayed as wide as was possible, nudging the gearstick.

‘Work?’ asked Tanya, nodding towards the club, a red neon sign advertising ‘Live Sex’ pulsing above the door.

‘Purely pleasure,’ he grinned. ‘I have someone who looks after the day-to-day running of my properties, so I’ve got more leisure time than I used to.’ He coughed a tight cough and continued. ‘What happened?’

‘We’re not too sure at the moment, but the building went up in flames sometime yesterday, and the Van Delfts didn’t make it out in time.’

‘Do you know how the fire was started?’

‘Not yet.’

‘I’m going to have to get on to my insurance people. Have you got some kind of report that I can give them?’

‘My main interest is in the two people who died there,’ she said trying to get as much reproach in her voice as possible. He didn’t seem to care that two people had burnt to death in one of his houses. ‘What can you tell me about them? How long have they been there?’

‘I can’t really remember, about three or so years I reckon. But I’ve been having problems with them. Serious problems.’

‘Really?’

‘Non-payment of rent. And that totally fucks me off, I mean I’m not a charity, I’ve got to pay the mortgage on that place, and if they don’t pay the rent I can’t. Leaves me in a bad position.’

‘So what did you do?’

‘First I dropped in on them, just for a friendly chat’ – Tanya had her doubts – ‘and when things didn’t get
better I had to get my lawyers involved. We’re actually due to go to court next month, get this settled once and for all.’

‘Did they have a child?’

A man walking past on the pavement turned to stare at them. She could read in his eyes and the slight smile which tugged at the corners of his mouth he’d pegged them as a couple having an argument.

Girlfriend-catching-boyfriend-at-sleazy-sex-joint.

‘You know, now that you mention it, I remember. There was a child there, a little girl, I asked them about her and they were kind of coy about it. But I pushed them, they hadn’t mentioned anything about having a kid when we signed the tenancy agreement.’

‘And what did they say?’

‘That they’d only recently adopted her.’

Adopted. The word hit her like a boulder. The doll had been for an adopted daughter. So where was she now?

‘Maybe they torched it on purpose, just to get back at me.’ Kloots’ voice broke into her thoughts, a kernel of anger in his voice.

‘And killed themselves as well? Sounds like that would be more of a favour to you?’

‘Point taken.’ He reached down and scratched his crotch slowly, his overlong nails sounding like they were shredding the denim. ‘Maybe they got caught up in it by accident?’

‘I’ll need to talk to your lawyers about this, but if you think of anything else let me know.’

‘Yeah, okay.’ He opened the door and swung a foot out. ‘Don’t suppose you want to join me for a drink inside?’

Tanya stared at him until he swung out the other foot and stood up.

‘Okay, I get the message,’ she heard as he slammed the door shut.

By the time she made it back Bloem wasn’t around so she looked up adoption agencies. There was a local branch in Leeuwarden, which she called, but a recorded message told her that it was closed and to direct all enquiries to the Central Adoption Agency in Amsterdam. The recorded message didn’t extend the courtesy of telling her the number, so she had to search online.

Bloem came in just as she’d managed to speak to someone who was able to confirm that they had the Van Delfts on their system, but that if she wanted more info they’d have to pull the file.

‘Van der Mark, in here.’

Bloem indicated the incident room.

She joined him, the air of the room dense with stale sweat.

‘What have you got?’

‘I spoke to the landlord, and he said they did have a girl, they’d adopted, and I just got off the phone from the adoption agency in Amsterdam, they have the Van Delfts on file.’