DeKok and the Sorrowing Tomcat (9 page)

DeKok rubbed his hand through his gray hair.

“That,… eh, that,” he hesitated, “was also Flossie's opinion. She felt betrayed by her Peter and was very sad about it.”

Vledder looked at him pensively, a suspicious glimmer in his eyes. He had heard a strange tone in DeKok's voice. A warning not to draw any hasty conclusions. Suddenly he took the letter from the table and read it several times from beginning to end. Then he looked at his mentor.

“You,” he said slowly, almost accusingly, “you think that Pete Geffel
did
call in, after all.”

8

Inspector Vledder was deep in thought.

It was very obvious. His face was tense. The square jaw with the dimple at the end of the chin pushed forward and there was a deep, diagonal crease between his eyebrows. Suddenly his eyes lit up. The chin was withdrawn and the frown disappeared.

“Eureka!” he exclaimed, “I've got it!”

DeKok looked up in surprise.

“What have you got?”

“I now know exactly what happened.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Yes, everything … the entire plan.”

“But, Dick, that's excellent, really excellent,” mocked Dekok. “Then the whole case is solved.”

Vledder did not react to the remark, nor to the mocking tone of voice. He moved his chair a bit closer to the table.

“Let us assume,” he began, sticking a finger in the air in a subconscious imitation of one of DeKok's many mannerisms. “Let us assume,” he continued, “that Pete, as you suspect, did indeed warn someone at B&G.”

“Yes?”

“Therefore B&G
knew
that a robbery was planned.”

“Of course.”

“Well, what does B&G do then?”

“You tell me,” was the laconic invitation.

“B&G,” continued Vledder blithely, “doesn't lift a finger to stop the hold-up.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, they don't lift a finger. They let it happen, including all the paperwork, the freight manifests, the works. The transport is just listed as one more transport. As a matter of fact, they take special pains to include a large amount of cash.”

Vledder paused to gauge the effect of his statement.

“But … eh,” he went on, “now comes the cute part: it's all just on paper. In reality the total sum is much, much smaller.”

“Well, and?”

“Well, it's simple really. The difference between the recorded amount and the transported amount is pure profit because the insurance company will reimburse the loss.” Vledder looked at his mentor with pride. “What do you think?” he asked.

DeKok nodded, deep in thought.

“It's possible…”

The younger man's eyes sparkled with an inner fire.

“Just think, DeKok, what genius! If the hold-up succeeds, the robbers will simply assume that they were unlucky and happened to hold up a particularly small transport. If, later, they read in the papers that the haul was supposedly much larger, they will simply dismiss it as just one more stunt from the police, just to create trouble in their ranks. But, of course they'd be forced to keep their mouth shut. Even if the hold-up did not succeed, or if something were to go wrong, nothing would be the matter. B&G would just apologize to their clients for a miscalculation, or they could simply announce that the Company had received an anonymous tip about a planned hold-up and they had taken the precaution to send less cash. The difference would, of course, be delivered at once. A most reasonable excuse.”

DeKok smiled at his pupil, colleague and friend.

“Fantastic, Dick, simply fantastic.” There was genuine admiration in his voice. “The plan does indeed border on genius. The logical way in which you explain it, is also pure genius. So simple, so straight-forward. At first hand, I don't have any arguments against it. I mean, I wouldn't be at all surprised if the plan really had been put together that way, the way you see it. It would also explain the murder in Seadike.”

Vledder frowned.

“How's that?”

“For the plan to succeed, Pete had to disappear. There was no other choice.”

Vledder sighed.

“I don't see that. I don't think the murder was essential. It increased the risks.”

DeKok shook his head.

“No, no, not true. The murder safeguarded the plan. After all, Pete Geffel was the only one who could afterward testify that B&G was informed of the hold-up. A simple message to the insurance company would be enough to stop payment of damages. Let's not even mention, at this time, the possibility of Pete informing the police.” He paused. “And after all, looked at objectively, was the risk of the murderer all that great? It would safeguard the plan. The plan itself was fool-proof. Just think, we only discovered the possible connection by accident.”

Vledder nodded slowly.

“You're right, from their point of view it was better to silence Pete permanently.”

DeKok rose with a sigh.

“Of course, we cannot be sure, but if it really happened the way we suspect, then it's a sad story, indeed.” His voice sounded depressed. “Just think, the first time that Pete attempts to change his life, reform, if you will, the first time he turned his back on blackmail, on being a con-man, a petty thief, it becomes the direct cause of his death.” Slowly he shook his head. “It could be a Greek drama,” he concluded.

Vledder pressed his lips together.

“I know nothing about Greek dramas,” he said, obviously irked. “Greek dramas don't interest me. I only know that it won't be easy to prove our suspicions.”

DeKok grinned, a bit maliciously.

“In order words … you don't think we'll succeed. Well, one thing is for sure, the entire management of B&G will close ranks, silent ranks, against us.” DeKok rubbed the bridge of his nose with a little finger. “And yet,” he added, “that's also their weakness.”

Vledder looked at him with surprise.

“Weakness?”

DeKok nodded.

“Think about the murder. We theorized that Pete Geffel was killed for the benefit of a certain group of people. But the actual act, you see, almost certainly was perpetrated by a single person, a man … or a woman. Therefore, you understand, one of the members of the group carries a heavier burden … is more vulnerable in relation to the remaining members of the group.”

“I understand,” admitted Vledder contemplatively. “The fact that
one
of them committed a murder, is also their weakness.”

DeKok looked morosely at nothing at all.

“Except … except if they hired a killer between them. Somebody to do the dirty work, so to speak. But I find that hard to believe. The murder in Seadike doesn't smell like the work of a professional. Cunning Pete was a very smart sort of guy, streetwise, a blackmailer, an accomplished con-man. He knew people.” He shook his head and sighed deeply. “
Cunning
Pete wasn't the sort of man who could be easily approached by a professional killer. He was too smart for that. No, considering the circumstances, there
had
to be some sort of association. I think, I don't know why, but I think that Pete
knew
his killer … must have trusted him, or her, right up to the last moment.” He paused. “And remember, you have to consider that the group had little time,” he added.

“How's that?”

“Well, the time for preparation was short. Just think! B&G couldn't do a thing until
after
they had been informed about the plans for a hold-up. Only then could they begin to plan their counter-moves. In reality the time must have been even shorter, because I assume that it took some time before they could evaluate all the possibilities and consequences. The plan must have grown slowly, must have been subject to consideration, and finally approved and executed. That leaves very little time to search for, find and hire a professional killer. After all, you don't select one from the Yellow Pages.” He grinned lop-sidedly at the bitter jest. “No, Dick,” he continued, shaking his head, “not a professional killer, but a very cold-blooded amateur. As far as I'm concerned, the killer can be found among top management of B&G.”

Vledder looked grave. His fists were balled in his pockets and there was a determined look on his face.

“Dammit, DeKok,” he exclaimed vehemently, “we
must
find Pete Geffel's killer! We must! It's no more than our duty. Not just because of our job, our prestige, or for justice, or whatever, but…”

He did not complete the sentence.

DeKok looked at him searchingly.

“What are you trying to say, Dick?”

Vledder swallowed, then he spoke reluctantly:

“We … eh, we owe it to an innocent blackmailer.”

*   *   *

It was raining.

DeKok had pulled up the collar of his coat. The miserable, depressing weather made him melancholy. His moods were as predictable as a barometer. A deep depression in the weather front, could be read off his face.

He looked sideways at Vledder who was walking next to him. The boy improved by the day, he thought. His powers of deduction had shown considerable progress and his self-confidence was markedly better. And especially the last, was of prime importance to a beginning policeman. The solution of crimes was not merely a matter of sharpness. Perseverance and a belief in oneself were the most important weapons in the battle against crime.

He grinned silently to himself.

But usually, more often than he cared to admit, a little bit of luck was the deciding factor in coming to a satisfactory conclusion. His thoughts drifted toward B&G. He had been on the job more than twenty five years, but had never before encountered quite such a dangerous opponent. He wondered if Vledder and he were right to tackle them head-on. Perhaps they were getting careless and overconfident.

He thought about Pete Geffel and his lonely death in the sand dunes and suddenly, in the middle of the street, he stopped. Deep wrinkles had formed in his forehead and there was a pensive look in his eyes.

Vledder who had progressed several paces beyond, stopped also and turned with an expression of surprise on his face.

“What's the matter?”

DeKok wiped the rain from his face.

“What did Pete do, to warn them?”

Vledder grinned in reply.

“He phoned.”

“And who answered the telephone?”

The young inspector shrugged his shoulders.

“Most likely a receptionist.”

For a long time DeKok chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip. At moments like that he resembled a cow chewing its cud. Vledder watched the expression with a puzzled look on his face. On the New Fort Canal DeKok entered the offices of the “Amsterdam Times” and asked the doorman to use the phone. Vledder smiled. Walkie-talkies and radios did not belong with DeKok's concepts of communication methods.

The doorman, who had known DeKok for years, readily assented. DeKok disappeared in the tiny space where the doorman kept a phone, his logbook and a number of telephone directories.

He looked for the phone number of B&G. He was convinced that Pete would have followed the same method.

When he found the number, he picked up the receiver and dialed the number. With a certain satisfaction a subconscious part of his mind approved of the old-fashioned dial on the phone. DeKok did not like touch phones, either. After a few rings a female voice answered at the other end.

“With B&G, how may I help you?”

DeKok swallowed. Hastily disguising his voice, he said:

“I … eh, I … have an important message. Very important. I want to talk to … eh, the top man.”

“What is this about?”

“A hold-up … a hold-up on a transport.”

There was a pause at the other end of the line.

“I'll connect you.”

It took several seconds. Then there was some crackling on the line and a male voice answered:

“Thornbush … who is this? Hello … who's calling? Hello…”

DeKok did not answer. Carefully he replaced the receiver.

9

“I refuse.”

President Bent pushed himself abruptly forward in his easy chair and slapped his knee with the palm of his hand. His aristocratic face was red with indignation.

“I refuse to assemble management for your convenience to … to … eh, to line them up, as if they were a bunch of criminals.”

DeKok looked at him for a long time. There was a playful smile around his lips.

“That's
your
interpretation, Mr. Bent,” he said sarcastically. “I wouldn't dream of calling your eminent staff a bunch of criminals.”

Agitated, the president rose from his chair.

“You know very well what I mean,” he hissed vehemently. “If you ask me to assemble for you all the people who knew about the size of that particular transport, then there is only one possible explanation…”

DeKok looked at him evenly.

“Is that so?”

Bent sighed deeply.

“Really, seriously, Inspector!” He sounded desperate, trying to control himself. “You're on the wrong track with your investigation. I don't understand your stubborn attitude. After all, I take it that your Commissaris has given you specific instructions?”

DeKok nodded.

“Indeed,” he said. “The Commissaris told me to investigate the hold-up and he said to be nice to Mr. Bent. I'm not to say nasty things to you. According to the Commissaris, you have tender feelings and are easily hurt.”

Vledder supported his colleague.

“And we
will
take your soft, kind character into consideration, Mr. Bent. But … that's the only concession we can make.”

Bent's face became even redder. It did not seem possible.

“I don't need your concessions” he screamed angrily. “But I'll be damned before I lend my cooperation to chasing a mirage. I repeat: The solution is not to be found with me, or within the Company. Put that out of your head! Believe me, you're chasing rainbows, specters.” He was close to losing control again.