'Understood,' the radio said, and chuckled.
\\ 16 /////
' I often surprise myself,'De Gler said. 'Out all day and I still come up with a good meal. Look at this spread. Fresh-fried sole, smoked eel on bread that I'm about to toast, personally whipped cream, and hand-cleaned strawberries. Maybe I'll still have time to toss a salad. And you just bumble about. The complete nonachiever. You could help, maybe.'
'Lay the table?' Grijpstra asked. He pulled open a drawer in his search for a cloth. But he used too much force, and the detached drawer, filled with kitchen tools, fell on his toes. Grypstra hopped out of the kitchen, uttering a string of four-letter words.
De Gier followed. 'You sure you're Frisian? Frisians are not supposed to let themselves go like that.'
Grijpstra sat down and took off his shoe.
De Gier lay on the couch and picked up his novel.
Grypstra breathed heavily.
''You're an asshole,'' de Gier read. 'Not you, but the male hero in this book. He's addressed by his wife. She's called Martha again. I would say that their relationship is troubled because she'll never let him have his say. If she did, she might see what he doesn't understand about her attitude. If she did, the book could end well, but maybe that's bad literature.' De Gier struggled free of the cushions on the couch. 'Why can't anybody ever be happy? It's the same here in this province that's so superior to die rest of the country. Mem and Douwe, Gyske and Sjurd, and Sjurd's nephew's girlfriend just broke the engagement. The disharmony between spouses and lovers is about as bad as what we're used to at our end. Misery all over.'
Grijpstra had put his shoe on again and was on his way to the kitchen. 'Happiness,' the adjutant said, 'is maybe not what we should be after.'
'Happiness,' de Gier said, 'is a white toy rabbit with a red ribbon around its fluffy neck. I never liked the idea either. How did you fare with Pyr, Tyark, and what's-his-name?'
'Yelte,' Grypstra said miserably.
'What a deadpan face you have,' de Gier said. 'I've always admired you for the way you never let on. The suspects have quite normal names, I'm sure. You made up those weird names to make sure I wouldn't interfere.'
'Real names,' Grijpstra said. 'And you,' Grijpstra shouted, 'why don't you keep out of this, eh?'
'I'm your friend,' de Gier said. 'We're living together. I'm being sympathetic. I worry about your welfare. You're doing too much, and you should learn to relax. Why are you so busy?'
'Shouldn't I be busy?' Grijpstra asked. 'In my Frisian jersey? Under my Frisian cap? Shouldn't I be visiting those human sheep? That bleat up front and rattle in the rear? Because their shit is never wiped and dries out in their ass hairs. Yellow-eyed, brainless throwbacks, happily hiding in their inbred stupidity.'
'Rattle?' De Gier jumped up. 'I'll be back in a moment.'
He came back with the rat. Eddy had collapsed on de Gier's hands; his tail and legs hung down.
Grijpstra had found the tablecloth and was shaking it out of its folds. 'Hi, Eddy.'
Eddy's pink nose trembled.
'Listen.' De Gier's nose pointed toward Eddy's chest. Grijpstra bent down. 'You hear it?'
'Rattling again,' Grijpstra said. 'Cats purr. Maybe it's okay, but he looks sick to me.'
Eddy was carefully dropped on the couch. Grijpstra stroked the rat's back. De Gier brought cheese. Eddy struggled up and grabbed the cheese.
'Back to my role,' de Gier said, 'of loving sharer of whatever you're not getting together these days. What did Pyr, Tyark, and Yelte tell you today?'
'They called me amtner. They accused me of rabberij. And they claimed to know nothing.'
'Your terminology is not quite clear.'
'I thought you had mastered the lingo.' Grijpstra raised his voice. 'I thought you were the scholar.'
De Gier checked his dictionary. 'Amtner merely stands for 'official' but rabberij means slander.'
'And belestingT
'Ah,' de Gier said, 'that'll be 'tax.' It's clear to me now. Were you trying to upset the suspects, hoping that they might give themselves away in anger?' De Gier put the little book away. 'The usual technique? If you were accusing them of tax-free and therefore illegal transactions, you may have scared them.' De Gier shook his finger. 'But you didn't apply your method right, for you still know nothing.'
'FYUU,' Grijpstra shouted.
'You'll hyperventilate,' de Gier said kindly. 'Control your breathing.'
Grijpstra's face became redder.
'Fyuu?' de Gier echoed angrily. 'I'm only trying to help, and you just make sounds.' He picked up his novel. 'Here. She-Martha again-is complaining that she's out of the regular world.' He dropped the book. 'What is she telling us? That she can no longer make contact with the others. The unhappy woman doesn't know that others are just as helpless as she is. What have others ever done for anyone? Where is my Hylkje? She should be here. Didn't she promise to be here for dinner? Last night she stimulated me sexually for hours, and then when the moment came, she took some drunken bum to her bed.'
' 'The Man, the Marionette,'' Grijpstra said triumphantly. 'Title of a play on TV. You remind me of the hero.'
De Gier's mouth opened slightly.
'Watch some TV sometimes,' Grijpstra said, 'then you won't have to gape at me. The play showed what it will be like once men have lost, seen from the winning female point of view. Swedish, of course. Subtitled and tragic. Everybody goes gay!'
Eddy rattled softly. 'Not now, Eddy.' De Gier caressed the rat.
'My wife liked that play,' Grijpstra said. 'I liked it too, for I finally saw how we are humiliated. And once I got that-it was quite transparent, really-I began to behave in an opposite way from what she expected. She eventually left me, and I was free.'
'Hylkje is not gay,' de Gier said, 'and neither is your wife.'
'No?' Grijpstra asked triumphantly. 'So why does Hylkje go about dressed in leather? Any why does she subdue the male image of the motorcycle?'
'So every woman choosing a heretofore male profession is homosexual?'
'Funny voice, too.'
'Watch it now,' de Gier said. 'But you're right, she does have a funny voice. Bisexual, perhaps?'
'I don't care what they are,' Grijpstra said. 'They can pervert the codes to the hilt. The law allows for aberrations, and we don't have to bother. But there is one taboo left,' Grijpstra shouted. 'Murder! And we're the Murder Brigade.'
'They should be careful with fire, too,' de Gier said. 'Arson is another taboo. Arson is worse, for the country is short of homes. There are far too many people. If murder were allowed, the population would decrease, a healthy balance would be found, and…'
'So unhappiness is our fault,' Grijpstra said sadly.
The doorbell rang.
'You open up and apologize,' de Gier said. 'Such a wellmannered girl, arrived right on time, unaware of your slander. Hylkje is normal, healthy, attractive, and under the spell of my charm. Why don't you ever use charm? No wonder Pyr, Tyark, and Yelte didn't respond.'
'Evening, sir,' Grijpstra said in the corridor. 'You're just in time for dinner. And who may you be?'
'It's me,' Cardozo said.
'Are there local festivities?' de Gier asked when Cardozo came in. 'Are we required to dress up in Frisian garb?'
'A pox on you,' Cardozo said, and turned to leave.
The commissaris's small hand grabbed Cardozo's wrist. 'Stay here.' Cardozo pulled a little. 'I don't want te
