considerably, but now I know better. It's a matter of tolerating all-pervasive* stupidity. The individual cannot change the ignorance of the powerful group, but he can learn to go alone and follow his chosen path. By manipulating my private fate, I will rise to dizzy heights and enjoy myself on the way. Live the good life. Like now, for instance, I think I'll have a snack.
He leaned against the front of a stall. A young woman in a spotless white coat leaned toward him. De Gier ordered fried sole on a bun. Up in the gallery he could look down on the hall. More farmers were slapping hands with each other. What do I see here? de Gier thought. Small-minded greed preyed on by evil. Amused, I follow fateful events that I'm quite free of myself.
'Coffee with it?' the young woman in the white coat asked.
De Gier nodded, from far away, for he was soundlessly moving, at speed, in empty space. Yes, why not, some nice fresh hot coffee.
'Hi,' Eldor said.
'And a nice day to you,' de Gier said cheerfully.
'Anything happening yet?'
'Any minute now, dear Eldor.' De Gier smiled. 'Shots will crack in a moment, or one shot to be exact, and it'll be a harmless blank. Further shots might make corpses.'
'Get away,' Eldor said. 'Corpses in Friesland? I've been a cop six years, and the worst I've ever seen was a husband arguing with his wife. I've also seen cars go against traffic on a one-way street, but that's because of the way we've arranged our transport here. I don't even write a ticket when I see it happen.'
'In Amsterdam…'
'Yes, sure, in Amsterdam,' Eldor said. 'But my wife won't let me work there. My wife is a good woman. My kids are good kids. I'm good too. Just look at me.'
Eldor Janssen towered above de Gier. His freshly laundered uniform was an artful combination of pure blues, framing six foot six of rugged manliness. Eldor's eyes reflected an unpolluted, ever-present sea.
'What do I see?' de Gier asked.
'Goodness,' Eldor said, 'is too one-sided for me. I wouldn't mind being bad, but that's impossible in these parts. Ride a horse into a church and rape the bride, I wouldn't mind that. Or be a pirate, swinging through rigging, flashing a curved sword, or astride an old-model Harley-Davidson, in smudgy leather, with 'Fuck You' painted on the back of my jacket.'
'Really,' de Gier said. 'Eldor!'
'I just want to be courageous,' Eldor said. 'On the right side, if need be.'
'Good hasn't won yet,' de Gier said, 'and as long as it hasn't, there is still much to do.'
'It has won here,' Eldor said sadly.
The fanners began to climb the stone steps to the bar.
'Watch it now,' de Gier said. 'The suspects should be taking charge of the doors.'
'You're sure now?'
'I have never,' de Gier said, 'been more sure of anything than that that bastard over there, with the dusty curls under the edge of his cap, is Fritz, and the other bastard over there, in the shiny wooden clogs and the dustcoat with the sleeves rolled up, is our Ary. They each have a hand in a pocket, holding a gun, and they have other hands out to hold on to their bags.'
'I'm not to go inside,' Eldor said. 'The chief constable told me just now. My uniform might just possibly excite the suspects.'
'Oh, I don't know,' de Gier said. 'They're professionals, they won't be easily upset.'
'Our instructions,' Eldor said, 'tell us clearly that in a situation like this, we cannot even think of drawing our guns. Three hundred fellow beings pushed together in a bar, and there I would be, maybe firing hard-hitting, long- range rimfire bullets. The bullets will penetrate the guilty party and all the not-guilty parties behind him too.'
'You stay right here,' de Gier said, 'where nothing outof-the-way can happen.'
A shot cracked, followed by sudden silence, then by the screaming of waitresses and the melancholy lowing of the cattle below. Eldor considered, his hand resting on the butt of his gun. 'Maybe I'll just take a look,' Eldor said softly. De Gier walked along. Fritz came hurtling out through one of the bar doors, revolver in one hand, filled bag in the other. Eldor pushed himself through the door and the human cluster behind it.
Ary, interrupted in saying good-bye to his victims, looked around. 'No cops here, get out.'
Eldor towered quietly, his eyes ablaze with cold blue power.
Ary's revolver indicated a moaning waitress. 'You want me to do away with this poor innocent woman?'
Eldor's silence persisted.
'You don't,' Ary said. 'So here we go, the poor woman and me. Get going, miss.'
'Just a moment,' Eldor said.
'Listen, cop,' Ary said. 'I'm serious. You really want me to do away with this lovely lady?'
Eldor's finger pressed the spring in his holster. Hie gun jumped into his hand. Eldor's arm rose slowly. His pistol's barrel pointed at Ary's nose.
Ary's revolver pointed at Eldor's wide chest.
'You,' Ary said, 'or me.'
'I,' Eldor said, 'or you.' His other arm rose and supported the mighty hand that held his pistol.
'You're making me real nervous,' Ary said.
'Put your gun on the floor,' Eldor said.
'So what have I got to lose?' Ary asked. 'Think of yourself, dear fellow. A young man with a beautiful wife and cute kiddies playing at her feet. Your career, officer, consider it while you still can consider.'
'I'm going to count now,' Eldor said. 'Starting with one'
'You,' Ary said, 'are making a serious mistake.'
'Two,' Eldor's bass voice sang melodiously.
Ary lowered his revolver.
'Put it down,' Eldor said. 'Don't drop it. I'm counting again. One.'
Ary's gun nuzzled Eldor's knee.
'Two' Eldor sang.
Ary squatted and placed his gun on the floor.
Everybody around them cheered and applauded.
De Gier ran away, through the door, across the gallery, down the stairs. He sped athletically through the hall. He crossed the parking lot. He came to a stop. Two cars, their noses mashed into each other, were silently watched by tall, unhappy-looking men. All the men were heavily armed.
'A little accident?' de Gier asked the commander.
'Always an extra problem,' the commander said. 'How can one ever take all possibilities into account? Some idiot truck, complete with trailer, suddenly shooting off toward the gate. All my routes blocked at once. Car number three, supposedly swerving to the right, totals car number one, which supposedly is the pivot of my pursuit.'
'And Fritz?' asked de Gier.
The commander waved a tired arm at the gate. 'A most unfortunate concurrence of unpredictable circumstances. My car in the middle, pushed out of its course by the truck and trailer, makes a sudden sharp left, and one of my men, ready to shoot, falls on the door handle. The door opens. My man falls out. Fritz, in his Mercedes, coasting toward the gate too, sees the pistol in the hands of my man.'
'You had five cars,' de Gier said.
'Three are in pursuit now,' the commander said. 'But where is the beauty of a well-planned attack, if two- fifths of my power falls away at the start? If it could only go right once, just once. Why do I always have to improvise within the first five seconds?'
De Gier found his Volkswagen and drove into Leeuwarden. The streets were busy. Somewhere ahead, in the core of the city, sirens chanted sadly. Threatened by two lanes of oncoming traffic, the Volkswagen found refuge on the sidewalk. A policeman approached. 'Lost, colleague?'
'Looking for those sirens.'
The officer listened too. 'Would be close to the railway station. Take the next alley to the right, and never mind from then on. Just go straight, can you do that?'
De Gier made the Volkswagen bounce along the pavement and took the first right. The alley was marked as a
