enjoy its company, but the dog is whining, it looks for Rea. Again, bam! Babette gets chucked onto the roof and becomes dinner for the birds. Bear Brom got buried. Habitual behavioral patterns repeat themselves. But where did Rea go? Oh nor!'
Grijpstra groaned. He looked about him but didn't seem to„ recognize the sergeant or the familiar surroundings.
'Now what?'
'But of course I know where she went. How stupid of me. Of you too. We could have known it all along. Amsterdam is a city of holes, fenced-in holes. They're always tearing at the street bricks, taking them out, stacking them, digging, fencing, taking the fences down, filling the holes. Aren't they?'
'He buried her in the street?'
'Where else? He didn't have a car and he couldn't give her to the Pakistanis or the Turks. Had to keep her in the house. He looked out of the window and saw the street workers had been at it again. Holes everywhere. He picked up the corpse, nipped outside, buried her, removed the fence. You think the street workers remember where their holes were? Never. They just come in the morning and dig and cover up, whatever comes first. But I've got to get that corpse, Rinus, no corpse, no case. They'll have to tear it all up again.'
'You do carry on.'
'Hmm?'
'You chatter and prattle. If the commissaris could hear you, he'd water your neck with his little plastic can.'
'The commissaris would listen politely,' Grijpstra said. 'Politely and approvingly.'
'Would he now? Think of the base your construction rests on. You're building a tottering tower on the unconfirmed and hearsay gossip that Frits Fortune, in the remote past, as a toddler, whopped a teddy bear. He is, you state, a bear-whopper. I was a smoker. I no longer am. If somebody asks me, 'Do you smoke?' I say, 'No, I do not,' and I speak the truth. If somebody asks Fortune if he is in the habit of whopping bears, he will reply, 'No, I do not whop bears,' and that can be the truth too. It doesn't have to be true, but it could be true.'
'You carry on,' Grijpstra said. 'You're suffering withdrawal effects. You're a bit out of your head. Not that it matters. I will do this job alone. Stay with me so you'll be safe. I'll provide distraction by keeping you busy.'
'There's Kiran.'
The dog stood on the quayside and chewed on a cap.
'Haha,' Grijpstra said, 'he got hold of somebody's cap. Probably took it from one of the fellows in the sandwich shop. Look at that, he's tearing off the rim.'
'That's your cap.'
Grijpstra felt his head.
'Where's my cap?'
'Probably fell off when you danced onto the tree. Kiran found it He's got strong teeth, hasn't he?'
'Miserable hound! Hellish mongrel! Is nothing holy in the city of Sodom? Get away, Rinus, Tve got to get by you.'
De Gier got up. He tried to turn around Grijpstra's bulk. Grijpstra held on to him.
'What goes on there?' two harsh voices inquired. 'Get off that tree, you two.'
'Sorry, adjutant,' Karate said. 'Ketchup thought you were fighting. I thought you were fighting too. You weren't fighting, were you?'
'No. There goes Kiran, Rinus. Escaping into Cafe' Beelema. I'm going there too, to ask for immediate compensation. Coming with me?'
'Adjutant,' asked Karate, 'are we correct in assuming that you left number 33, Emperorscanal, just now?'
'You are,' Grijpstra said.
'Were you visiting Mr. and Mrs. Fortune?'
'I was.'
'And the man who happened to fall into the canal last night, by accident so to speak, wasn't his name Fortune too?'
'It was.'
'Curious,' Karate said. 'It's a small world. A while ago, maybe a year ago, Ketchup and I also visited the Fortunes.'
'Pleasant people,' Grijpstra said, 'and reliable too. They supplied me with welcome information. And now I will go to Cafe Beelema. I want you to arrest that dog. That dog robbed me of my cap and subsequently destroyed it.'
'Did you say reliable, adjutant? Did you say that Mr. and Mrs. Fortune supplied you with reliable information?'
'Yes.'
'That couple is not reliable, adjutant. That couple is mad.'
'Why do you think so, constable?' de Gier asked. 'Please explain your reasoning to the adjutant. Don't bother to explain it to me because Fm mad too. But the adjutant's mind is in perfect order and he has to know everything. Especially as he is now working on his own.'
8
'We visited the address officially,' Karate said, 'following orders as we always do. It was about a year ago; I can check the exact date if you like. We were sent by Headquarters, because of a fight, of sorts. It could have been anything, an exchange of words or missiles, but we didn't know what to make of it because of the address, which is good. Ketchup thought there might be a sex club, there are some around here. We'd been to one before; that was because of a fight too. We found naked ladies up to their ankles in broken glassware. So were some of the clients, and one had lost his eye. I found it for him and he lost it again. Amusing in a way, for the time being, that is. Later it turns to work when you have to write it down. We found a variety at that club, and all of it was bad. There was gambling, and liquor without a license, a bit of junk, some weapons, and a minor. AH of it to be reported on, but that would be later, as I said. There was a gentleman there who got away without his clothes in an Alfa Romeo. Nervous he was and he drove into the canal; not at once, for the car stuck on the railing. We watched it and thought maybe it wouldn't go all the way, but it did in the end, and the fire brigade got it out. Very nice.'
'The damage,' Ketchup said. 'Unbelievable indeed. Another client in a Porsche, in a bit of a hurry too and didn't look where he was going. Hit a street full of cars on both sides and all the owners pouring out of their houses. You shouldn't laugh and I didn't. It cracked my jaw, it hurt for days. Endless damage!'*
'Right,' Grijpstra said. 'Well, we'll mosey along.'*
'Wait, adjutant, please, don't interrupt, Ketchup. As I said, we stood on the steps of thirty-three and the old gent opens up and acts all surprised and says, 'Good evening, constable, anything wrong or are you coming to visit the servant?' and I say, 'No sir, we came to ask you what is wrong because we hear there is a fight,' and he says, 'No, you must have been given the wrong number, there are some Negroes further along who play the trumpet,' and he wants to close the door, but his wife comes and holds it and tells us that she was expecting us and to please come in.'
'So it gets difficult,' Ketchup said. 'She is pulling and he is pushing. There was a fight but they don't manhandle each other, they manhandle us. What to do? How to write it down? Do conflicting elements constitute a prosecutable misdemeanor or will it be the easy way out again? Are the officers harassed?'
'Just a moment, Ketchup. As I was saying, adjutant, the lady had phoned but it took half an hour before we found out what for. They served us coffee and a spot of cognac, they threw in cigars, although he said she shouldn't. We are busy, he said, and mentioned the trumpeting Negroes again. Then, in the end, she told us what it was. Would we arrest her husband and take him with us, for she was complaining about being threatened with appreciable physical injury. By him.'
'Right,' Ketchup said, 'and that's unlawful. They were married, but even so. Rape is okay but they didn't do that so much anymore. They got to threatening, he threatening her. We were supposed to take action. I spent a
