The girl nodded.
'And where did the sculptures and paintings go?'
'To here,' the girl said. 'He brought them to Amsterdam and would sell them to stores, or have them auctioned. If he had something very special he would go to London, but he always came back to Amsterdam. The yakusa like Amsterdam. It's a quiet city and beautiful and they feel at home here. They have started a restaurant here and they have offices for their legal business. They also own hotels now. My restaurant is yakusa.'
'The profit on this stolen art must be high,' de Gier said.
'Very high. Often the buying price is multiplied by a hundred.'
'What else do the yakusa do here, miss?'
'They sell transistor radios and buy commercial secrets and our restaurant is known for its tempura and sushi.'
'Yes,' de Gier said, 'I have eaten in your place. Tempura are slices of meat or vegetable fried in batter and sushi are cold rice balls with raw shrimps or bits of fish on top. Lovely food but I only went once. The prices are too high. And I didn't see you.'
'You must have come on a Friday, it's my night off,' the girl said, and smiled. 'I am glad you liked the food. The prices are high but we cater to Japanese with expense accounts and then the price never matters.'
'Vegetables fried in batter,' Grijpstra said, looking interested.
The girl smiled again, and took out a ballpoint and a scrap of paper. She drew some characters and gave Grijpstra the slip. 'Give that to the girl at the door,' she said. 'You will be served well and there will be no bill. You should taste Japanese food; it's a delicate pleasure. But your mind must be at rest. If the food is eaten quickly and without concentration it's just stuffing for the stomach; there's no taste then.'
'Thank you,' Grijpstra said, and stuck the slip into his wallet. 'Do the yakusa sell drugs here, miss?'
'Yes,' the girl said, 'but only once in a while. Heroin from mainland China, bought through Hong Kong, I believe, in large quantities. The heroin doesn't stay here but goes to the American army in Germany. The deals are carefully planned and I don't know how they are done. Transport must be by sea for I have seen merchant navy officers in the restaurant, Japanese and Dutch. I studied them well and I can describe them.'
'That's good,' the commissaris said. 'Later on I'll get an officer from the drugs department who will ask you some questions. It won't take long. Will that be all right?'
'Yea,' the girl said.
'What else, miss?' Grijpstra asked. 'Traffic in women?'
The girl smiled sadly. 'No, there are enough women in Japan. Even with birth control the farmers have too many daughters. They are contracted to the bars and brothels. There is some demand for white and black women, but the yakusa find them in Hawaii and America and pay them well. The daimyo doesn't like slave traffic; it's too conspicuous because the merchandise talks.'
'Art,' the commissaris said, 'Did your boyfriend sell a lot of Japanese temple art?'
'Not too much. Most of the art sold here came from Thailand and Burma, but some scrolls and sculptures came from Japanese temples, and they were perhaps the most valuable. Buddhism has declined in Japan, although it still has millions of followers, but they follow the Buddist way in name only. The temples are still there of course, but they are not always run by priests, and some priests have had little or no training and are bored and uninterested. They will sell the objects of value entrusted to them, especially now that there is so much demand. Kikuji showed me some pots made by masters, tea ceremony bowls formed by hand hundreds of years ago. They came from a temple and he had paid very little for them. They sold at an auction here for thousands of dollars apiece.'
'So why was he killed?' the commissaris asked. 'If he was killed. We aren't sure, we have to find the body first. The body may belong to somebody else. Perhaps it is the body of one of the fat little men in your photograph. Perhaps Mr. Nagai is safe in a hotel room in Utrecht and will contact you soon.'
She shook her head with such force that her hair bobbed. It had been cut with a simple straightforward line, bringing out her high cheekbones and wide forehead. 'No, he is dead. I know. He wanted to leave the yakusa and set up an art store here in Amsterdam. He planned to import his own stock, and buy it legally. He was going to specialize in block prints, antique and reproductions, but the reproductions are made in the old way. They are beautiful, I saw them in Japan. They are made by craftsmen who still know the old ways. They can be sold here at three or four times the buying price. We would have been able to live comfortably. I wanted to manage the store, so that he would have time to buy and to study. His English was good and he wanted to write articles for the art magazines. But the yakusa didn't want to let him go. He asked and they refused. He thought he would be safe in Amsterdam, and he said he wouldn't go back. We were looking for an apartment. They threatened him. They threatened me too, through my boss at the restaurant. They only hinted, but a hint is powerful in Japanese.'
'Yes, yes,' the commissaris said. He picked up his phone and spoke to the drugs department. A plainclothes constable came to take the girl to another part of the building.
'Phone me at this number when you are through,' de Gier said, writing it down for her on a page in his notebook and tearing it out. 'I'll check the time of the train and take you to the station.'
The commissaris got up and looked at his watch. 'Yes,' he said to de Gier. 'Cardozo can go in the train with her and sit in the next compartment. My niece will collect her at the other end and drive her to the house. What about your luggage, miss?'
'I am leaving it all,' the girl said. 'I have my money in cash on me. It's a big sum. I was paid good wages and I saved. I can buy new clothes. Will you let me know when my new passport is ready? I have some passport photographs with me.'
'Yes,' the commissaris said, putting the photographs in his drawer. 'It shouldn't take long, you'd better leave your passport with me. I'll give it to the American embassy.'
'You are going to a lot of trouble, sir,' Grijpstra said, when the girl had left the room and the commissaris had telephoned his niece again after having checked the train times with de Gier. 'And the girl may be lying through her teeth.'
The commissaris grinned. 'You think so, adjutant?'
'No,' Grijpstra said, 'I think I believe her, and there was blood in the car, and a bit of skull. Somebody is dead.'
'Maybe she killed him herself,' de Gier said, 'and this is just a long story to put us on the wrong track. Murderers have come to see us before.'
'You think so, de Gier?' the commissaris asked.
'No, sir, I don't think so, I think she was speaking the truth as she saw it. But I've been known to think wrong before.'
'Yes,' the commissaris said, 'but for the time being she will be with my niece who is an intelligent woman. She lived in Hong Kong for many years with her husband who was the head of a trading firm. And during the war the Japanese interned her in a small camp for women and children. My niece was the head woman and the guards dealt through her only. She even learned to speak a little Japanese. Miss Andrews will be observed closely while she is in hiding and the local police can keep an eye on the house. I'll phone them later today.'
'Ah,' said Grijpstra, 'that's different. And she hasn't got her passport, so she can't rush off somewhere. Do you think the Americans will help?'
'Certainly. And if this tip about drugs going to Germany opens a lead they'll be grateful. They know drugs travel through Amsterdam to the army camps near Cologne and Bonn, and the CIA is supposed to break the traffic. They are working with us.'
'If Cardozo is traveling with the girl I'd better take charge of the detectives tonight,' de Gier said. 'I'll give them copies of the second snapshot. We can track those two jokers, but they won't be here by the time we are ready to arrest them. They'll be on a Japanese Air Lines plane back to Tokyo. We'll have to be quick, sir. Shall I alert the military police at the airport?'
'Yes,' the commissaris said, 'but the suspects will probably fly through Brussels or Paris and we are too late to alert the Belgian and French police, although we might try to do it by Telex. Why don't you do all that, de Gier. I will contact the ministry of Foreign Affairs, maybe they are interested, and I can also speak to the Japanese consul here in Amsterdam. Grijpstra, you take the girl to the train and tonight you can snoop around too. See if we've got something on the manager of that restaurant. Go and question him anyway. We'll shake them a little.'
'Sir,' the detectives said and left. The commissaris picked up his phone again.
