'Yes,' de Gier said and stopped swaying. 'You'd better do something for a change, Cardozo, instead of proving the superiority of your race. The commissaris wants you to help me. Listen.'
He explained his theory about the weapon.
'A ball and an elastic thread,' Cardozo said. 'Yes.'
'So how did it manage to hit Rogge square in the face, from that distance?'
Cardozo folded his hands on his back, closed his eyes and began to sway. After a while he opened his eyes again.
'I'll tell you, sergeant, when I know. It'll come to me. But not when you rush me.'
'Bah,' de Gier said. He remembered how he had helped the Water Police constables to haul the old lady's soggy corpse from the canal. He also remembered the expression on the corpse's face. She had been killed while she was trying to pass on some information. The face had looked eager, and also rather sweet. She had been about to speak to the commissaris, her old and close friend. She had looked coy. Coy and eager.
Grijpstra's hand was on the sergeant's shoulder.
'Let's go,' Grijpstra said. 'You and I have things to do. You have to check out two whores and I have to telephone some nice ladies. But we have a little time. Stop looking at that tree, it has nothing to say to you. Fancy tying a corpse to a tree and then throwing it into the water. I am going to have a drink, care to join me?'
'Can I come too?' Cardozo asked.
'No. You are too young. We are going to visit a friend of mine and you won't be able to work once you have seen her. You need your strength for tomorrow. Aren't you two going to be street sellers tomorrow?'
'Then de Gier can't go either,' Cardozo said. 'He'll also be a street seller.'
'You're right,' Grijpstra said. 'I'll go alone.'
'Nellie?' de Gier said.
'Yes,' Grijpstra was grinning. 'I'll go and see her by myself. She'll change my mood. Some day this is. Another corpse. Two corpses too many. Amsterdam is a quiet city. Holland has the lowest crime rate in the world. You went to that lecture too, didn't you? That slob should be with us now. Silly bald-headed dwarf. I can't stand criminologists. Statistics, that's all they know. When that kid got raped and slaughtered last year he said that the percentage of children killed by rapists is so low that it is almost negligible. You remember what the boy looked like when he was found?'
'According to statistics we'll have another five corpses this year,' Cardozo said. 'There's nothing we can do about it. They'll happen.'
'The hell with you both,' Grijpstra said and stamped off.
De Gier ran after him.
'Hey,' Cardozo shouted.
'He's not going to drink by himself,' de Gier shouted back. 'Come and pick me up tomorrow at eight-thirty, and make sure that van is in order and that you have the merchandise.'
'Yes, sergeant,' Cardozo said loudly. 'I hope you choke on your drink,' he added softly.
10
'Hello,' De Grier said.
'Hello-oh,' a sugary voice answered.
'Minette?'
'Yes, darling.'
'I am not your darling,' De Gier said and frowned at Nellie, who was watching him from the other end of the small bar. Nellie was smiling delightedly and Grijpstra was grinning. Grijpstra had taken off his coat and tie and was sitting in a corner of the room, near a window which he had opened and which showed a view of a small courtyard where a row of sparrows were lolling about on a wall, their tiny beaks open and their wings half-spread. Grijpstra was puffing and wiping his face with a large dirty white handkerchief. He looked happy, in spite of the heat. He had set up the two appointments with Abe Rogge's girlfriends and would be off in a little while to fetch the commissaris, and meanwhile he had nothing to do but watch de Gier.
'I am not your darling,' de Gier was saying. 'I am Detective-Sergeant de Gier, Amsterdam Municipal Police, and I am coming out to see you to ask you a few questions. Nothing serious, strictly routine.'
'Police?' the sugary voice asked. 'They are darlings too. I have a nice client who is a police officer. Maybe you are like him. When are you coming to see me, darling? Right now?'
'Right now,' de Gier said and made a face at the telephone, 'and I want to see your friend Alice too. Would you ask her to come over to your place? I have her telephone number here and the first three numbers are the same as yours. She must live close to you.'
'But surely,' Minette said. 'She lives in the same building, two floors up. I'll ask her to come and we'll do a double number for you.'
'No,' de Gier said, 'don't put yourself out, dear. I just want some simple answers to some simple questions. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Put come clothes on.'
Grijpstra chuckled and de Gier made a gesture to shut him up.
'What sort of clothes, darling? I have a nice uniform with shiny buttons and leather boots, and a little whip. Or would you prefer me to dress up in lace? Or my black evening dress perhaps? It has a beautiful zipper and it comes off if you…'
'NO,' de Gier almost shouted. 'What's the address?' 'Alkemalaan Five-O-Three, darling, don't shout at me.' The voice was still dripping with sweetness.
'I'll be there,' de Gier said.
'An idiot,' Minette said to herself, as she daintily replaced the dark red plastic telephone on her bedside table, 'and rude too. Now what does he want? He wouldn't be hunting whores, would he? That other policeman also said he wanted to ask questions, but he came for the usual thing and stayed the night. They are all idiots.'
'Afternoon,' de Gier said. 'I am Sergeant de Gier. I phoned about a quarter of an hour ago. Are you Minette?'
'No, honey,' the small girl said. 'I am Alice, Minette is waiting for you inside. Come in, dear.'
She put a hand on his arm and tugged gently. 'My,' she sighed, 'aren't you handsome!'
'Yes,' de Gier said. 'I am a beautiful man.' He looked into the smiling eyes and noted they were green. Cat's eyes. The face was triangular, like a praying mantis'. He had been looking at a color photograph of a praying mantis in a book he had found in the Public Library. The insect had looked weirdly attractive, the materialization of a subconscious fear with a lovely face but with long arms and claws. A predatory insect, the caption had said. An entity to be careful with.
The girl turned and he followed her into the small hall. A little girl, she wouldn't be much more than five feet high, but well shaped and well dressed in short velvet pants and a loose flowing blouse. Her bare feet were tiny. An imp, a prancing imp. He guessed her to be in her late twenties but the smooth face hadn't shown signs of wear and tear. Maybe she hadn't been in the game too long. He admired the round tight bottom and the black glossy hair, done up in a bun.
'Now that is Minette,' Alice said, turning around and stepping back, so that he would enter the room ahead of her. 'Here's your sergeant, Minette.'
'Woo,' Minette said. 'Isn't he lovely?'
De Gier felt relieved. Minette was nothing special. A plump girl, rather wide in the hips and with a painted doll's face. Minette sat on a low settee, dressed in a wrap which slipped a little; one breast was visible. De Gier shuddered imperceptibly. The breast looked like the gelatin puddings his mother used to serve on birthdays. They came on a white plate, dripping with a thick cream sauce.
Take your coat off, sergeant,' Minette said in the same voice she had used on the telephone. 'You were so abrupt when you rang up. Relax, that's what this place is for. Have a drink, come and sit next to me. What would you like? Get him a beer, Alice. We have some really cold beer in the fridge.''
'No,' de Gier said. 'No drink. I am working. Thanks.'
