Tumbleweed

hungry.'

'I wasn't sick. I just felt a little off.'

'He wasn't sick,' de Gier said to a man walking next to him. 'He only vomited a little.'

'Happens to the best of us,' the man said, 'but there will always be people who make fun of others. The minute they see that somebody is in trouble they laugh. There are some pretty nasty people about nowadays.'

'You've got a friend,' de Gier said to Grijpstra.

They didn't speak to each other again until the bus which had picked them up dropped them in the center of the little town and the driver had directed them to a hotel.

They took a double room and Grijpstra immediately opened his suitcase and began to rummage about in it. He put on a pair of thick corduroy trousers and a heavy workman's jersey. His feet went into a pair of old boots, and a muffler appeared which he wound around his neck.

'Now,' he said.

'That's better. But you need a coat.'

'You go out and buy me something.'

'I may buy the wrong thing.'

'No,' Grijpstra said. 'You are supposed to be a man of taste. You know my size. I'll go down and play billiards and phone the adjutant of the state police. He'll come and join me and we can have a talk and make some plans. This afternoon we can begin to sniff about the island. I want to see IJsbrand Drachtsma's house and speak to some people who know him. Later we can come out in the open. Perhaps it'll shake him when he knows that we are making investigations.'

'Right,' de Gier said, and went out. He found three shops where clothes were sold but there weren't any duffelcoats. Finally he bought a yellow oilcloth jacket and a pair of huge trousers to go with it and a souwester, all of the same material. The shopkeeper promised that he would swap them for something else if the client wasn't satisfied. He found Grijpstra in the barroom of the hotel, a low-ceilinged smoky place where he was playing billiards with a square-looking small man in a blue suit with shiny elbows and a white shirt and a tie.

'Adjutant Buisman,' the square-looking man said. 'Pleased to meet you, sergeant. I heard some stories about you when Grijpstra spent his holiday here.'

'What sort of stories?'

'Good stories,' Grijpstra said. 'You can join us if you promise not to tear the felt, and you have to chalk the cue before you play.'

'All right,' de Gier said, 'is it my turn now?'

'Go ahead.'

De Gier studied the position of the two white balls and the single red one.

'Which ball?'

'The one closest to you.'

It was an easy shot and the two adjutants waited for de Gier to spoil it. De Gier chalked the cue and studied the balls again.

'Go on,' Buisman said.

De Gier flicked the cue and his ball shot away, hitting the red ball on the side and the white ball full on. It was a rude shot but he had made a point.

Buisman looked at Grijpstra.

'Good,' Grijpstra said, 'but you won't make the next one.'

The balls were well apart now and de Gier began to chalk his cue again. He would have to work out the right angle and use the table's elastic sides. He tried to remember what he had learned at the police school where one of his friends had always insisted that he should play, refusing to buy him a beer if he didn't, and de Gier had been forced to play more often than he wanted to, for his friend had a good allowance from home.

He played and made another point. Buisman showed his approval by stamping his cue on the floor, and ordering three glasses of old cold jenever. De Gier made a third point and a fourth, and Grijpstra began to sweat but then he missed.

'Not bad,' Grijpstra said. 'I thought you hated all sports except judo?'

'Ach,' de Gier mumbled modestly, 'it's all a matter of concentration, isn't it?' but he shouldn't have said it. He managed only the easy shots after that and Grijpstra patted him on the shoulder. 'Beginner's luck, matey.'

Adjutant Buisman shook his head. 'I don't know,' he said. 'The sergeant played well, he needs more practice that's all. How long will you be staying?'

'Not long,' Grijpstra said, and he explained the purpose of their visit.

'IJsbrand Drachtsma,' the adjutant said softly, 'well, I never. I know him well, you know. I have been out on his yacht and he comes here to play billiards sometimes and he has been on the police launch with us. He is a big man on the island, he could be the mayor if he wanted to but he's got other things to do, and you think he is involved with your dead lady?'

'She was his mistress,' de Gier said.

'Yes, yes,' the adjutant said, 'he would chase the ladies in Amsterdam, of course; it's another world out there. Here he goes for walks on the beach and sits near the fire with his wife. She knits. I have a scarf she knit. A beautiful fireplace, I have often been to the house.'

He was silent for a while. 'But he has an alibi you say?'

'Yes,' Grijpstra said.

'So what are you bothering about then?'

Grijpstra told him.

The adjutant was shaking his head. 'No evidence at all. Not a shred of it, but you have your suspicions. Christ almighty, you really think he would have paid somebody to kill a nice-looking woman?'

'He may have.'

'Sure, he may have and he may not have. You are detectives, maybe you know. I don't, we have never had a killing on the island, not even with the tourists around and there are more of them every year. Running over the island like rats over a body-if we don't stop them one day they'll take all the sand home in their shoes-but we haven't had a crime. They mill about, like lunatics. When the moon is full they are worse than ever. We organize games for them, and walks and competitions. We have to keep them busy you know.'

De Gier was grinning.

'Yes, you laugh, but this used to be a lovely quiet island, beautiful with the birds and seals. We still have them but it has taken a lot of protection, fences and signs, and we have to patrol the reserves. People don't mean any harm and they are obedient enough if you tell them in a nice way but if you aren't watching them every minute of the day they'll stamp on the last egg and tear out the last flower and then they'll look about and wonder why the place is bare.'

'Yes,' de Gier said, 'I know. We have them milling about Amsterdam every summer.'

'They can't pull the buildings apart. Haven't you got any other suspects, without an alibi?'

'We have,' Grijpstra said, and he explained the situation but the adjutant kept shaking his head.

'I see what you mean,' he said in the end. 'He is a strong person, our Dsbrand, and he would be ruthless if somebody went against him. He was a hero during the war I am told, rowed all the way to England and fought his way back, and he is probably as tough as nails in business, but here he is different, very gentle and relaxed. His father was born on the island and I think he considers Schiermonnikoog his real home. He is here most weekends and he doesn't go abroad like other people. When the place gets too full he gets on his yacht, and he has a big garden with a stone wall around it.'

'We are not too sure of his alibi,' de Gier said. 'We have only the word of two German businessmen, and the commissaris spoke to them on the phone.'

'The war is over,' the adjutant said.

'Sure.'

'You can trust the Germans nowadays.'

'Sure.'

'When did you say the lady was murdered?'

'Saturday a week ago.'

'It's Sunday now,' the adjutant said. 'IJsbrand will be in his villa. He was here last weekend, I remember, I