Floodgate (15 page)

When Julie and Annemarie rejoined him he was sitting relaxed in an armchair, legs crossed and jenever in hand. For a man who had just made such a momentous decision he seemed singularly unconcerned. Julie said: 'May I say something?'
'Certainly. Compared to what the Colonel said and what he is no doubt thinking at this moment your slings and arrows are as nothing.'
She smiled faintly. 'I haven't lost my senses or memory. I have no intention of being - how did you put it so charmingly last night - cool, clinical, superior and handing out unwanted and unsolicited advice. I am sorry for what I said in the bedroom. I didn't know you were in so impossible a situation. But if I go on to say that I also think you've put the Colonel in a fearful fix, you'll probably say that you appreciate that a lieutenant's life i ' s as nothing compared to the Colonel's finer feelings. Well, I still say I'm sorry, but
Annemarie interrupted. 'Julie?'
'Yes?'
'I wouldn't bother saying sorry to him again. I don't for a moment believe he's in an impossible situation. Look at him. He's getting high blood pressure through trying not to laugh out loud.' She gave him a considering glance. 'You're not very active. I thought you came through here to write out your resignation.'
He frowned, looked off into the middle distance, then said: 'I've no recollection of saying that.'
'That's because you never had any intention of writing out your resignation.'
'Well, well. We'll make a lady detective of you yet. You're quite right, my dear, I did not. How could I? How could I leave Uncle Arthur alone to cope with the rising wave of crime in Amsterdam? He needs me.' Annemarie said to Julie: 'If I were to say to him, that he is as Machiavellian as he is big-headed, do you think he would fire me? Or just try to reduce me to tears?'
Van Effen sipped his jenever. 'Fortunately, I am above such things. And you must never confuse Machiavelism with diplomacy, big-headedness with intelligence.'
'You're right, Annemarie. I'm sorry I said "sorry".' Julie looked at van Effen with something less than affection. 'And what are you going to do now?'
'Just sit. Waiting.'
'Waiting for what?'
'The phone. The Colonel.'
'The Colonel!'Julie said. 'After what you said to him?'
'After what he said to me, you mean.'
'You're going to have a very long wait.' Annemarie spoke with conviction. 'My dear children - or should I say babes in the wood - you sadly underestimate the Colonel. He is infinitely shrewder than either of you. He knows very well indeed what the score is. He's taking some time to make this call because he's figuring out a way to beat a strategic retreat without loss of dignity, peace with honour, if you will. Now there, if you like, does go a man with a Machiavellian cast of mind - after forty years battling with the underworld one does develop a certain cast of mind. I told the Colonel that he had left me with no place to go. De Graaf, being de Graaf, realised at once what I meant - that he had no place to go. I
Julie said: 'Seeing you're so clever, would you mind 'There's no need to be unpleasant. Look at me. I am treating you with unfailing courtesy- or should I say chivalry-'
'I suppose. What's the Colonel going to say?'
'That's on consideration - or on re-consideration - well, he's going to give me carte blanche. The 8 p.m. assignation is on.' 'It would be nice to see you wrong for once,'Julie said. 'No, I didn't really mean that. I only hope you are wrong.'
For a time no one spoke. The girls kept looking at the telephone on the coffee table by van Effen's side. Van Effen wasn't looking at anything in particular. The phone rang.
Van Effen picked it up. 'Ah! Yes ... I accept that. that maybe I did step out of line. But 1 was provoked.' He winced and held the telephone some distance away from his ear. 'Yes, sir, you were provoked too ... Yes, I thoroughly agree. A very wise decision, if I may say so. . . Of course, you will be kept in the picture, sir ... No, they don't trust me ... Yes, sir, here. Goodbye.'
He hung up and looked at Julie. 'Why aren't you in the kitchen, my girl? Distinctly smell burning. 1 was asked for lunch -' 'Oh, do be quiet. What did lie say?' 'Carte blanche. 8 p.m.'
Julie looked at him , her face still, for what seemed a long time but could only have been a few seconds, then turned and went to the kitchen. Annemarie made a couple of steps towards him, stopped and said: 'Peter.'
'Don't say it. I've already got out of one difficult situation. Don't you and Julie put me in an impossible one.'
'We won't. I promise. You know that we can't help what we feel and you can't blame us for that. But you could blame us if we did start talking about it, so we won't. That's sure.' She smiled. 'Now, isn't that considerate.'
'Very. Do you know, Annemarie, I do believe I'm beginning to like you.' 'Like me?' She gave him a quizzical look. 'So you didn't even like me when you kissed me this morning? Absentmindedness, I suppose. Or do you just go around kissing policewomen as a matter of routine? Something to do with their morale, no doubt.'
'You're the first.'
'And, no doubt, the last. We all make mistakes, whatever I mean by that cryptic remark. Who do-Isn't trust you?'
'Who doesn't - what?'
'Something you said to the Colonel.'
'Ah. My criminal associates. We parted at the Hunter's Horn professing mutual trust and faith. Didn't stop them from staking a man out at the Trianon. An irritation. No problem.'
'And after lunch?'
'Stay here a bit. The Colonel is going to call me. That will be after we hear what, if anything, the FFF have been up to at two o'clock. The Colonel is convinced that they will not blow up the Hagestein. Frogmen have found no traces of any underwater charges in position.' Van Effen called his office and asked for the desk sergeant. 'The men on Fred Klassen and Alfred van Rees. They called in at noon?' He listened briefly. 'So van Rees has lost our man. Chance or on purpose, it doesn't matter. I assume you have the licence number. All officers on patrol. Not to approach. just locate. Note this number and call me here.'
Lunch was an excellent but hardly festive meal. Julie and Annemarie were determinedly over-bright and over-cheerful and the harsh edges of strain occasionally showed through: if van Effen noticed anything amiss he made no comment: her brother, Julie knew, rarely missed anything.. They had coffee in the living-room. Shortly after two o'clock a young motor-cycle policeman came to collect the Hunter's Horn tape. Julie said: 'I hear that you are awaiting a call from the Colonel. After that?'
'Your bed, my dear, if I may. I don't know when I can expect to sleep tonight or even if I will sleep so I think an hour or two might be of some value. That hour or two, of course, would be helped along by the brandy you have - unaccountably - so far failed to offer me.'
The Colonel's call came when van Effen was halfway through his brandy. It was a brief call and one-sided. Van Effen said yes' several times, 'I see' a couple of times, then told the Colonel goodbye and hung up.
'The FFF blew up the North Holland dyke at exactly 2 p.m. Extensive flooding, but shallow and no lives lost. Not according to first reports. The Hagestein weir was not touched. As the Colonel says, he expected-this. The frogmen had located no charges and he is convinced that the FFF were unable either to approach the weir or conceal charges. He's further convinced that their blasting techniques are primitive and limited only to simple operations like blowing up dykes and canal banks.'
'But you're not convinced of this, are you?' Julie said.
'I'm neither convinced nor unconvinced. I know no more about it than you do. Maybe the Colonel finds it preferable, more comforting to think along those lines: maybe the FFF want the Colonel - us, the country - to think along those lines. They have all the hallmarks of being a devious and highly organized bunch. That impression, too, may be deceptive. Are they a simple-minded group trying to make us think they are devious or a devious-minded group trying to make us think they are simple? Figure it out for yourselves. I can't. I'm going to rest lightly. Turn on the radio, would you? The FFF have, it seems, got into the habit of making a public announcement after what they no doubt regard as being one of their master strokes. Don't bother to wake me to convey their next dire threat. In fact, don't bother me for anything.'
He had barely dropped off when Julie came in and shook him awake. He opened his eyes and, as was his custom, was almost instantly awake. He said: 'This is the way you don't disturb me? The heavens have fallen in?' 'I'm sorry. A letter came for you.'
'A letter? An exhausted man is torn from his slumbers 'It came by special delivery,' she said patiently. 'it has Urgent stamped all over it.'
'Let me see.' He took the envelope from her, glanced briefly at the address and postmark, opened the envelope, half extracted the contents, pushed it back inside again and slid the envelope under the pillow. 'And I'm disturbed by this. One of my fellow officers trying to be witty. Next time, be sure the heavens have fallen in.'
'Let me see what was inside that letter,' Julie said sharply. She sat on the bed, laid her hand on his arm and said in a gentle voice: 'Please, Peter?'
Van Effen made to speak, said nothing, reached under his pillow, retrieved the envelope and gave the contents to Julie. It was not a letter, just a plain postcard, blank on one side. On the other side was a crude drawing of a coffin and a hangman's noose. Julie tried to smile. 'Well, it has been three months since the last one, hasn't it?'
'So?' Van Effen sounded indifferent. 'It's been, as you say, three months. And what's happened in that three months? Nothing. And no reason on earth why anything should happen in the next three months.' 'If it's so unimportant, why did you hide it?'
'I didn't hide it. I put it away in the full view of my little sister whom I didn't want to upset.'
'May I see that envelope, please?' She took it, looked at it and handed it back. "All the others had come from other countries.
This one is post-marked Amsterdam. That was the first thing you saw and that's why you put it away. The Annecy brothers are in Amsterdam.' 'Maybe. Maybe not. This postcard could have come from any country to a friend or accomplice in Amsterdam who sent it on to this address.' 'I don't believe that. Kid sister or not, I'm all grown up and a big girl now. I can think for myself, I can feel for myself. I know they're in Amsterdam. And so, I'm sure, do you. Oh, Peter. It's all too much. One set of madmen threatening to flood our country, another set going to blow up the palace and now this.'
She shook her head. 'Everything at once. Why?'
'It is an unusual set of circumstances.'
'It is a - oh, do be quiet. Do you have no idea what is going on?' 'I've no more idea than you have.'
'Maybe. Maybe not. I'm not sure I believe you. What are we going to do? What are you going to do?'
'What do you expect me to do? Patrol the streets of Amsterdam until I find some character carrying a coffin over his shoulder and a noose ;n his hand.' He put his hand on her arm. 'Please excuse momentary irritation. There's nothing I can do. Second thoughts, yes. I can go back to sleep, Next time, make sure the heavens have fallen.' 'You're hopeless.' She half-smiled, rose, shook her head again when she saw that his eyes were already closed and left the room.
He had barely dropped off for the second time when Julie returned. 'Sorry again, Peter. The Colonel. I told him you were asleep but he said it didn't matter if you were dead, I was to bring you back To life again and get you to the phone. He left me in no doubt that it was very urgent indeed.'
Van Effen touched the bedside cupboard. 'He could have used the scrambler.'
'Probably using a public phone.'
Van Effen went through to the living-room, took the call, listened briefly, said: 'I'm leaving now,' and hung up.
Julie said: 'Where?'
'To meet a person the Colonel says may be a friend. I don't know his name.' Van Effen put on shoulder holster, tie and jacket. 'Things, as you said, Julie, tend not to occur singly. First, the dyke nut-cases. Then the palace nut-cases. Then die Annecy nut-cases. Now this.' 'Whatever "this" may be. Where's your friend?'
'Wouldn't you know. He's in the mortuary.'
Five
The old town of Amsterdam may well be unique in the attraction of its tree-lined winding canals, its medieval charm, its romance, its almost palpable sense of history, its nostalgic beauty. The city mortuary wasn't like that at all. It didn't possess a single attractive feature, it had no charm, medieval or modern, was totally and irredeemably ugly. It was clinical, functional, inhuman and wholly repellent. Only the dead, one would have thought, could have tolerated such a place: but the white-coated attendants, while not much given to whistling at their work, seemed no different from your average office worker, factory mechanic or farm labourer: this was their job and they did it in the best way they could.
Van Effen arrived to find de Graaf and a serious young man, who was introduced as Dr Prins, waiting for him. Dr Prins was attired in the regulation uniform of white coat and stethoscope. It was difficult to imagine what function a stethoscope played in a mortuary: possibly to check that incoming admissions were, in fact, dead on arrival: more probably, it was just part of the uniform. De Graaf was in a dark and sombre mood but this was not due to his surroundings for, over the long years, de Graaf had become more than accustomed to mortuaries: what he was not accustomed to was having to leave his fish course and a bottle of Chablis almost untouched on a restaurant table.
Dr Prins led them to a long, cavernous, tomb-like chamber, 'the furnishings of which - exclusively in concrete, white tiles, marble and metal - accorded well with the chilled atmosphere. An attendant, seeing Prins approach, opened a metal door and pulled out a wheeled rack that ran smoothly on steel runners. A shrouded form lay on this. Dr Prins took the top comer of the sheet.
'I have to warn you, gentlemen, that this is not a sight for weak stomachs.'
'My stomach couldn't possibly be in worse condition than it is,' de Graaf said. Prins looked at him curiously - de Graaf hadn't seen fit to make mention of the abandoned fish and wine - and pulled back the sheet. What lay revealed was indeed, as the doctor had said, not a sight for queasy stomachs. Dr Prins looked at the faces of the two policemen and felt vaguely disappointed: not by a flicker of expression did they display whatever emotions they might have felt.