'Beautiful country you have here, Mr. Tammart.'
'Yes, sir. You can call me Reggie if you like. Beautiful country indeed, sir, but when the snow covers the ground there isn't much to do except hunting and logging.'
'Is that what you do?'
'I am Janet Wash's gardener, sir, amongst other things. I only hunt woodchucks because they ruin the gardens, but they're asleep in their holes now.'
'So you are 'logging'?' The commissaris didn't know what the word meant, but he thought the man would tell him. He had been trained not to show his ignorance but to let others fill him in, through their answers to his carefully planned questions.
'Yes. Janet has woodstoves, she doesn't believe in oil. The stoves in the house go through a quarter of a cord a day and then there are the barrel stoves in the garage and the cabins. I have twenty cords out, but we'll need a lot more if the winter goes on like this.'
'You do all that on your own?'
'No, sir, I have some help.'
Reggie spoke in a slow drawl, pondering his words. His friendliness was close to politeness, not the open cordial approach of the pilots and the hunters. Not an easy opponent, the commissaris thought as he slid into the back seat of the car. But the man wasn't an opponent, of course. He thought of his objective in coming to America. All he had to do was sell his brother-in-law's estate. The face of Suzanne's dead husband formed itself in his memory. He hadn't known the man well, but they had met a few times, when Opdijk was in Amsterdam on leave, or on business. A blunt man with a red face, not at all the polished banker he was supposed to be. A man who drank a lot and who told coarse but not unfunny jokes. The commissaris didn't think he had ever bothered to find out what Opdijk's position in the bank was. Ah, he remembered now, Opdijk had been an accountant, with a university degree. An expert on financial strategy. An inner-circle job most likely, checking computer charts in a room on the top floor of some New York skyscraper. An unlikely match for sad Suzanne. He also remembered what Suzanne had done during her short vacations in Amsterdam. She had bought antique chinaware in little stores, one piece at a time, after endless deliberation. Opdijk probably held her on a short leash. Well, anyway, the man was dead now. He wondered if Suzanne minded very much. She only seemed eager to get back to Holland. Perhaps Opdijk's death was a release for her.
He mistook the blurred shape in the corner of the back seat for a bundle of blankets so that the sudden words startled him.
'I am glad to see you are all in one piece. That little plane is a real bone rattler, don't you think?' A careful, pleasantly slow voice, as cool and firm as the hand that reached out for him and which he held for a moment as he lowered himself onto the seat and found a place for his cane.
'Not at all, madam. I liked the plane, and the pilots know their job.'
'Good. And you had a clear sky.'
'Yes, and a wonderful view. It was very good of you to drive my sister to the airport and to meet me here, but you shouldn't have put yourself out. There were some gentlemen on the plane who offered me a ride to town.'
The long slender hand touched Reggie's shoulder. 'Friends of ours, dear?'
Reggie had the car in gear and the commissaris saw the pines slip away while the car turned into what seemed to be a bumpy country lane. Suzanne was in the front passenger seat, turned around and peering at him. He smiled encouragingly.
'Not friends, Janet, acquaintances. The two Boston businessmen who bought that camp on Bartlett's Bay. They've come for the deer again.'
The refined voice acquired an icy edge. 'The deer, of course, the hunting season. Every year I forget and every year there they are again, with their horrible red hats and orange jackets and coarse faces and dirty hands and their cartons of beer and their big cannons, banging away at the poor things. How many did they get last year, Reggie?'
'Thousands, I believe, Janet.'
Janet sighed. 'Thousands of the lovely creatures, it's unbelievable and yet they don't die out. In the old days the predators would catch them, I suppose, the bears and the bobcats and the mountain lions. But now there aren't too many of those, so we horrible humans have to do the job. Oh well. Dear me, I haven't even introduced myself. I am Janet Wash, your sister's nearest neighbor. We were all very saddened when we heard the awful news about Pete Opdijk's accident. Any neighbor would have driven Suzanne to the airstrip to meet you, but as I am closest I grabbed the honor. We are so glad you could rind the time to come out here.'
The commissaris wondered whether he could light a cigar. The ashtray in the armrest was empty and clean, so perhaps not. He noted the details of the car. Old, but in excellent condition. He had recognized the car's make as he got into it. A Cadillac, of the type the mayors of Amsterdam had used many years ago before they switched over to compacts and pretended to be economizing. A smooth car, built well, with great headlights sitting on the sleekly curved mudguards. He patted the leather of the armrest.
'I should have come earlier.' Suzanne's hand Wept over the back of the front seat and he held it affectionately. 'Suzanne asked me often enough, but America seemed so far then.'
'It is far,' Janet said, 'and out here we are very far indeed. The Canadian border is close. We're almost falling out of the country. Will you stay awhile?'
'As long as it takes. There is some work waiting in Amsterdam. I would like to stay awhile but…'
'It shouldn't take long, Opdijk was always very meticulous about his affairs and we'll all be glad to help. My house is close and you can use Opdijk's car, I am sure, if you don't mind driving on slippery roads, and there's always the telephone.'
He squeezed his sister's hand. 'You'll be back in the old country soon. I wonder if your house will be easy to sell. Do you know if it is mortgaged, dear?'
Suzanne's watery eyes blinked above the little nose, which was an exact copy of the commissaris'. 'I, I really don't know, Jan, he never discussed such things with me, but I know where he kept his papers. There are some boxes and files-perhaps you can find out.'
'Yes,' the commissaris said. The car had reached the top of a hill and had stopped to let an oncoming car pass. Below the hill the forest stretched as far as the sea, and the commissaris identified some of the trees. Naked white trunks of birches clustered around high maples that seemed frozen in gigantic movements of joy, and everywhere there were the strange pines that he had also seen around the airstrip, reaching up with delicate long needles, like the sleeves of an Oriental dancer in the middle of an exuberant movement. The other car had stopped alongside and Reggie pushed a button so that the window on Suzanne's side eased down. The window of the driver's seat in the other car also slid open.
'How are you doing?'
'Good,' Reggie shouted. 'How are you, sheriff?'
The commissaris stared at the long cruiser, spotlessly polished and with an array of blue lights attached to a bar on its roof. A very neat and a very dangerous-looking car that reminded him of a pike in a Dutch moat, a ponderous fish but quick to attack and gobble its prey. The young man at the wheel, in a uniform that looked like a Boy Scout's, was slender and fairly small, but he bore his authority naturally. The commissaris noted the clipped moustache, the clean angular lines of the face, and the calm, clear eyes.
'On my way to the airstrip,' the sheriff said.
'The plane has come and gone.'
'I don't want the regular plane. The high brass in New York are sending me a Dutch police officer; the state police are flying him in. There they are now.' He pointed, and the commissaris opened his window and looked up. A blue aircraft was circling about a thousand feet up.
'A minijet,' Reggie said. 'Amazing, the police must have money to burn these days.'
Janet's quiet voice spoke into the commissaris' ear. 'Did the sheriff say a Dutch police officer?'
'Yes.'
'Aren't you a Dutch police officer? I believe Suzanne told me so yesterday.'
'I am,' the commissaris said.
'But you have already arrived.'
'So I have.'
