Bezuur didn't appear to hear.
'One last question.' Grijpstra said brightly. 'About this party last night. When did it begin and when did it end?'
Bezuur scratched the stubbles on his bloated cheeks. The small eyes looked sly in their greasy sockets. 'Alibi, hey? And I don't even know when Abe was killed. Zilver didn't tell me. Party started at about nine in the evening. I can get the girls to testify if you like. I should have their names and phone numbers somewhere.'
'Callgirls?'
'Yes. Sure. Whores.'
He was looking through the pockets of a jacket which he had taken from the couch. 'Here you are, telephone numbers, you can copy them. The names are fancy, of course. Minette and Alice, they call themselves, but they answer their phones if you need them. Better try tomorrow, they'll be asleep now. I had them driven home in a taxi at five o'clock this morning. They had a gallon of champagne each, and another gallon of food.'
Grijpstra jotted down the numbers. 'Thank you.'
'Excuse me, sir,' the constable said. He had been standing in the open door for some time.
'Yes, constable?'
'You are wanted on the radio, sir.'
'Well, we have finished here, I think,' the commissaris said. 'Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Bezuur. Contact me if you think I should know something which you haven't mentioned now. Here is my card. We would like to solve the case.'
'I'll let you know,' Bezuur said and got up. 'God knows I'll be thinking about it all the time. I have done nothing else since Zilver phoned.'
'I thought you were having a little party here, sir,' Grijpstra said, keeping his voice flat.
'I can think while I have a party,' Bezuur said, taking the commissaris' card.
'Another dead body in the Straight Tree Ditch, sir,' the female constable from the radio room said. 'Water Police found it. It was dangling from a rope tied to a tree, half in the water and partly hidden by a moored boat. The Water Police suggested we should contact you. They had seen the telegrams* reporting the other murder last night. Same area, sir. Sergeant de Gier is there now. He's got Detective-Constable Cardozo with him. They are in their car waiting for instructions. Would you like to speak to them, sir?'
'Put them on,' the commissaris said, gloomily looking at the microphone which Grijpstra was holding for him.
'Cardozo here, sir.'
'We are on our way to you now,' the commissaris said, nodding to the constable at the wheel who started the car. The constable pointed at the roof and raised his eyebrows. 'Yes,' the commissaris mouthed silently.
The siren began to howl and the blue light flashed as the car shot away. 'Anything you can tell us at this stage, Cardozo?'
'Sergeant de Gier knows the dead person, sir. An old man dressed up as a lady. Used to be on the force, sir.' Cardozo's voice had gone up, as if he was framing a question.
'Yes, I know her, Cardozo. How did she die?'
'Knife in his back sir. He must have been killed in a public telephone booth here; we found a track. He was dragged across the street and dumped into the canal. The killer used a short rope, strung under the corpse's armpits and attached to an old elm tree. The rope didn't kill him. The knife did.'
'Do you have the knife?'
'No, sir. But the doctor said it was a knife wound. Penetrated the heart from the back. A long knife.'
'When did she die?'
'Early this morning, sir, the doctor thinks.'
'We'll be there soon.'
'The Water Police want to have the corpse, sir. Can they take it? It's quiet now but the riots may start any minute again and we are blocking the street with our cars.'
'Yes,' the commissaris said tiredly, looking at a city bus which was trying to get out of the Citroen's way. The constable at the wheel was attempting to pass the bus and several cars were coming from the opposite direction. The siren was screaming ominously directly above them. The commissaris put a restraining hand on the constable's shoulder and the car slowed down obediently.
'They can have the body, Cardozo. Over and out.'
Grijpstra was watching the oncoming traffic too and sighed happily when the Citroen nosed back behind the bus. 'Bloody fool,' he said to the constable. 'What are you trying to do, be a hero?'
The constable didn't hear him. The bus pulled to the side of the road, having finally found a spot free of cyclists, and the Citroen jumped off again, careening wildly.
'Oh, shit,' Grijpstra said softly.
'Quite,' the commissaris said.
'Pardon, sur?'
That wasn't very clever of me,' the commissaris said, 'asking that poor old lady to be on the force again. I might as well have shot her on the spot.'
^• All Amsterdam police stations are connected by teletype. Important events are immediately recorded and distributed. The messages are known as 'telegrams.'
9
'You'll have to get out of here, sir,' De Gier said. He had gotten into the car as Grijpstra got out. 'The riots will be starting all over today. I don't know what's gotten into these people but they are thronging about again and warming each other up. The riot police will be out any minute now.'
The commissaris was leaning back into his seat.
'Are you all right, sir?'
'No,' the commissaris said softly, so that de Gier had to bend over to hear him. 'It's this pain. It's been with me all day and it isn't getting any better. Riots, you say. The riot police will only make it worse. We don't want a show of force, sergeant.'
'No, sir. But what else can we do? They'll be throwing bricks and there are some bulldozers in the Newmarket Square, and cranes and machines. They can destroy a fortune's worth in a few minutes.'
'Yes,' the commissaris said softly.
A platoon of riot police came tramping past. The commissaris shuddered.
'There they are,' de Gier said.
'I hate that sound, tramping boots. We heard it during the war. All the time. A stupid sound. We ought to be more intelligent now.'
'Yes, sir,' de Gier said. He was watching the commissaris' gray tired face. A spasm moved both cheeks and the commissaris' yellowish teeth were bared for a moment in a grin of agony. 'You'd better take him home, constable,' de Gier said to the driver. The constable nodded.
'In a minute,' the commissaris said. 'Tell me what happened, sergeant. Is the corpse still here? Did you manage to organize yourself for tomorrow's marketing?'
'We'll take care of that later today, sir. I was at home when the Water Police telephoned. I came straight out. Cardozo happened to phone as I was leaving, so he came out as well. I have had the corpse moved to the mortuary. There may be street fighting here soon and I didn't want them to trample all over it. Cardozo said that would be O.K. with you. He spoke to you on the radio.'
'Yes, yes. Did you find out anything? And have you taken Miss Rogge home?'
'Esther Rogge should be home by now, sir, she caught a bus.'
'She stayed at your apartment all night, de Gier?'
'Yes, sir.'
'I see. And the corpse, did you get any clues?'
'Just what Cardozo must have told you, sir. A knife killed him. I think he was trying to contact you by
