“Perhaps we can sit outside, it’ll be pleasant in the garden.”
They faced each other in two old cane chairs. The commissaris offered his flat tin and lit his visitor’s cigar. De Bree puffed nervously.
“You said you had some information?”
“Yes. You remember Paul, the terrier that belongs to the Carnets?”
“The information has to do with the dog?”
“No, but…”
De Bree’s cigar showed a red-hot end; the commissaris could hear the tobacco crackle as more air was sucked into it.
“Go ahead, Mr. de Bree, take your time.”
“The dog. I went to see my lawyer as you suggested and he says it is a bad business…”
“It is a bad business, Mr. de Bree.”
“Yes. Quite. But I have some information, as I said just now, and it has to do with Mrs. Camet’s death. My lawyer said I should give it to you and…”
“Maybe I would forget about the bad business with the dog?”
“Yes.” De Bree looked much relieved. He was smiling broadly. The glowing cigar hung in his limp hand.
The commissaris’s thin eyebrows met above the bridge of his nose. “No. Absolutely not. We won’t forget about Paul. You’ll go to court, Mr. de Bree, and get your verdict And I still want your information. If you don’t give it you will be in even more trouble. I am surprised your lawyer didn’t tell you that. I am sure he did tell you but perhaps you weren’t listening. If you have information mat concerns the Carnet death, and if a crime is involved in that death-and there is a crime involved, I assure you, Mr. de Bree-and if you withhold that information, men you are committing a crime yourself.”
De Bree was sucking on his cigar again. “Really?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“But if I don’t tell you about what I saw then there is no information, commissaris. You won’t know what I saw. Maybe I saw nothing. You can’t accuse me because of something that does not exist.”
“Your information does exist. You have told me twice already, once when I opened the door for you and once just now. Beg your pardon, you told me three times. You also told me on the phone. I am a police officer, I don’t need witnesses. If I write a report and state that you told me three times that you had information about the Carnet death and that you refused to give it to me afterward, then you are withholding evidence and my report, signed under oath, will be irrefutable proof, acceptable to the court.”
“Is that so?” de Bree asked softly.
There was an uneasy silence, accentuated by a slight rustle as a turtle came out of the weeds near the commissaris’s feet. De Bree looked down at the small armored creature that was plodding steadily forward. “A turtle!”
“He lives here. Well, Mr. de Breer
De Bree breathed out sharply; his nostrils widened and pointed threateningly, like the barrels of a miniature shot-gun.
“Very well. That night, the night of the gale, the night of Mrs. Carnet’s death, I was in my garden. I was looking for Tobias. He hadn’t come in, and I was also worried about the trees, a lot of trees fell that night. While I was outside I heard a terrible screaming and shouting coming from Mrs. Carnet’s porch. There were several people shouting at the same time, but her voice was the loudest. I couldn’t hear what she said, but she appeared to be hysterical, completely out of control. And then the door of her porch opened and I saw her fall. She had a flowered dress on, which made her body stand out against the lights coming from the porch. Mrs. Carnet fell with such force that she must have been pushed, ‘shoved’ might be a better word. She came hurtling down and a man fell with her. He rolled over her, it seemed. He was holding on to her, so he must have pushed her to the door and the momentum of his push made him fall with her. I saw the two at the top of the stairs. I couldn’t see the complete fall for there were bushes in the way, and the hedge and some small trees, and the gale was blowing everything about. It happened very quickly, of course. There were more than two people in the Carnet house for I saw a shadow, a silhouette, move behind the windows of the porch, not very clearly, again, for there are curtains that are draped in such a way that more than half the surface of the windows is obscured.”
“Did you see the man who fell with Mrs. Carnet go back into the house again?”
“Yes. He was in pain. He was dragging himself up.”
“Big man? Small man? Did you recognize him?”
“I didn’t know him. He didn’t seem too big, but there was some distance and I couldn’t see too clearly. I had seen enough anyway. I went back into my house after that. Tobias had shown up and I didn’t want to hang around.”
“Didn’t you realize that what you had seen made you a valuable witness to a crime?”
De Bree shrugged. “Who wants to be a witness? It’s a lot of bother. You have to go to court and waste a lot of time, and some shyster tries to ask smart questions and show you up for a nitwitted fool. What other people do is other people’s concern. I hardly knew the Camets. Maybe they were having a party. And you mustn’t forget that I had no idea Mrs. Carnet was dead, I thought she just fell, twisted her ankle perhaps. There aren’t all that many steps to the stairs in these gardens. And if she had been in trouble the other people with her would have helped her.”
“You knew there had been a crime later, when you learned that we had initiated an investigation.”
De Bree wiped his face. “Yes, perhaps, but then you had got to me too, about the dog. I didn’t want to attract any more attention to myself until my lawyer suggested…”
“I see. How was the man who fell with Mrs. Carnet dressed?”
“I don’t remember. I saw a dark shape going down with her. It looked male. I think it wore a dark jacket, but ladies also wear dark jackets. Come to think of it now, I couldn’t even swear in court that the shape was male.”
“And who was left on the porch? Male or female?”
“Female, I think, but there again I can’t be sure, for I only had a glimpse of something moving. But mere had been a man involved in the fight, for when the screaming was going on there was a male voice.”
“You say you didn’t hear any words. Do you remember what language they were screaming in?”
“No. Dutch, I imagine, but I’m not sure. Mrs. Carnet is French, isn’t she? Originally, I mean?”
“Belgian, but she did speak French.”
De Bree got up. The turtle had reached a large rock and was standing against it, nibbling at a lettuce leaf that had been put out on a tray.
“Your pet?”
“Yes, and it doesn’t chase cats, all it does is try to destroy my wife’s herb garden.”
De Bree smiled ruefully. “I really am sorry about that business with Paul, you know.”
The commissaris smiled back. “I am sure, Mr. de Bree, and I hope your regret will show in court. Don’t forget to offer to pay damages before the judge mentions it, but I think your lawyer has given you the same advice already.”
“Your bath,” his wife said as he came back from the front door.
“Yes. But I want to phone the airport. I’ll be flying to Italy tomorrow, dear, a nice easy trip. I won’t be long, a day and a night at the most.”
“Oh…”
“Did you run the bath?” He was on his way up the stairs. “And by the way, did you remember to buy that cane?”
“Yes.”
“Would you show it to me?”
She went into the living room and came back carrying a bamboo cane with a silver handle.
“Very nice, just what I had in mind. I’ll take it to Italy with me. This limp is beginning to be a nuisance. I can still hide it at headquarters where the doctor can see me but I think I’ll use the cane whenever I’m sure he isn’t around. I’ll keep it in the car, it’ll be safe there.”
His wife began to cry. “You’re an invalid now, darling, you should really retire. I can’t stand it, the way you’re killing yourself. I’ll go anywhere with you, I really don’t mind leaving Amsterdam. We can go to that strange island,
