suspects last night?'
Cardozo reported.
'Of course,' the commissaris said.
'Is it clear to you now, sir?'
'Surely,' the commissaris said, 'but my explanation might be farfetched, and the theory cannot be confirmed, as both parties have left the situation. But that's the way it all fits.'
'What way?' Cardozo asked.
'Just one little question,' the commissaris said. 'Do you recall having stated in public that you would be cycling along this dike starting early this morning? Think carefully, Cardozo.'
Cardozo thought carefully.
'Yes,' Cardozo said. 'On the way, between the station in the Red Quarter and Troelstra's bar, I did make such a statement. Karate and Ketchup refused to believe me. Then I said it again and they repeated what I said, loudly. By bicycle. Six AM. TO Friesland. Along the dike'
'Aha,' the commissaris said.
'It's really all clear to you now, sir?'
'Two hundred and five kilometers per hour,' the commissaris said. 'A most helpful speed. Pity. We're slowing down already. There's the end of the dike.'
Hylkje chose the emergency lane. The Citroen followed. 'This is the way it came about, Cardozo,' the commissaris said. 'Heroin dealing in Amsterdam is at present controlled by two Triads, secret Chinese societies that have been active here for years. Each Triad wants a monopoly, so friction results. The Hong Kong-based society fights the Singapore society here, in our city.' The commissaris raised a slender finger. 'Always the same thing. Conflicting interests. They could join and share, but that's too much to expect, when we consider human greed. So now what do we get?'
'Dead Chinese?'
'Ah,' the commissaris said. 'This part of the trip may be even better. Narrow country roads, Cardozo-we'll see what this exclusive car can do. We'll be glued to that motorcycle no matter what the corporal has us do. Just pay attention.'
'Yes,' Cardozo said. 'Easy now, sir. Blind corners. Easy now.'
Hylkje turned sharply, and the Citroen equaled her performance. 'A hundred kilometers an hour,' the commissaris said. 'That's an easy speed, but in view of the road condition it's still an appreciable figure.'
'So what would the Triad members want of me, sir?'
'Postulating,' the commissaris said, 'that this Adjutant Oppenhuyzen, who you found in Hop's restaurant contacting young Chinese toughs-assuming that this colleague, let's say, entertained intimate communication with the opposing party, we might possibly conclude'-the commissaris raised a finger again-'that the enemy, seeing you with the adjutant, surmised that you were in their business too. Moreover, they saw you having dinner with two uniformed constables. So they now know you're a police officer too. Look at it through their eyes, Cardozo, what do you see?'
The Citroen leaned into the next tight curve.
'Couldn't we park somewhere?' Cardozo asked. 'It's hard to concentrate when I try to imagine what may happen any minute now.'
'Close your eyes,' the commissaris said. 'Darkness helps at times. After you had dinner with the Red District constables, you were seen again, liberating two members of one Triad from the sadistic claws of the other. Where does that place you now?'
'On Hop's side?' Cardozo asked. 'But I arrested both sides.'
'And you let one side go later,' the commissaris said. 'Become a Chinese gangster for a moment, Cardozo. What is your aim? You're trying to increase your own happiness and possessions. Always the same motivation. Strengthening of one's own position. What's your next step?'
'I was going home.'
'No, no,' the commissaris said. 'Switch your position. You're them now. See through their eyes. You'd be after a considerable sum of money. How would you plan to get that? What do cops have that the other side wants? Heroin, of course. We confiscate the drug and sell it back to the suppliers.'
A straight line of road loomed up. Trees swishing by changed into a hedge of solid green, which broke for a moment and showed black and white dots-cows. Ahead of the Citroen, the large white motorcycle picked up speed. The siren sang her song.
'No!' Cardozo yelled, as a railway crossing humped up ahead. Motorcycle and car took the bulge spectacularly.
'Yes,' the commissaris said. 'The Chinese like to complicate simplicity. Ever interrogated a Chinese? They even change their names every two minutes. They expect the enemy, us, to like complications too. In order to get wise to what you would be planning, they dogged your steps. You were heard to say that you'd be bicycling to Friesland. Who would you want to visit out there?'
'Frisians?'
'More Chinese,' the commissaris said. 'Chinese finding refuge there because we hunt them out of Amsterdam. And what would you be taking to more Chinese?'
'Really?' Cardozo asked. 'They thought my tin lunch box was filled with dope?'
•They did.'
'Now where were the Chinese who were cycling toward me coming from, sir?'
'From Triad headquarters in Friesland.'
'Please,' Cardozo said. 'You're driving too fast, sir, do please slow down.'
'Had to pass that slowpoke,' the commissaris said. 'If I hadn't, Hylkje would have lost us. Now do you understand?'
'No.'
'Betrayal?' the commissaris suggested. 'There's always betrayal. Evil can't help betraying itself, we see that so often.'
'The refugees in Friesland had been informed by a spy in the Amsterdam Triad that I would be taking them supplies? And that I would be followed? But there were only cheese sandwiches in my lunch box. And the apple that I was about to peel.'
'Evil is suspicious-paranoid, in fact,' the commissaris said. 'If it weren't, it wouldn't destroy itself, but keep growing and eventually take over. I've always wondered about that theoretical possibility,' the commissaris said softly. 'If evil took over completely, what would happen to our struggle? If it swallowed the last vestige of good, would it become good itself?'
Hylkje switched off her siren and applied her brakes.
'Dingjum,' the commissaris said. 'And that dear little house where Lieutenant Sudema lives, in the company of his lovely wife, Gyske. Such a delightful woman.'
Gyske welcomed them at her gate. Hylkje placed her helmet on the saddle of the Guzzi. 'It's you again?' Gyske asked. 'I owe you thanks for bringing Sjurd home this morning. He's still asleep, thank God. When he wakes up he'll be tearing down the wall, after he rips out the cupboard.'
'Pity,' Hylkje said. 'Such a nice wall. He'll kill the ivy and climbing roses. Can't he forgive the cupboard?'
'The cupboard of my sin,' Gyske said sadly.
'Didn't you have a good time in there?' Hylkje asked. 'Wasn't your lover a therapist? If it was part of the treatment, it should have been fun.'
'It wasn't,' Hylkje said disgustedly.
'Would you happen to know,' the commissaris asked, 'how we can get to Mrs. Scherjoen's home? I've been there before, but I can't remember the way.'
Gyske pointed. 'That way, hard to miss.'
'Will I see you both tonight?' Hylkje asked. 'Rinus invited me to dinner. He's picking up some fresh sole in Ameland.'
'More trouble?' Cardozo asked. 'Mrs. Sudema didn't look too happy.'
The commissaris and Cardozo were walking. 'A marriage crisis,' the commissaris explained. 'Sjurd Sudema did not properly love his beautiful wife, and then she picked on a certain Anne.'
