Some shouting penetrated the room.
'You,' de Gier said to Ryder. 'You, sir, with your loud mouth, you've been irritating me.'
The waiters surged forward. The first one, a heavy-set man with no neck, fell over the commissaris's stick. 'I'm leaving,' the commissaris shrieked. 'Foul play.'
The lights went out.
A flashlight came on. Four hands, extended from leather sleeves, swept money into linen bags. De Gier hit Ryder on the side of his chin. Ryder fell against a waiter. The shouting in the poker room increased. Cardozo's necktie made a small show of clashing color as the beam of the flashlight touched it. 'Where is my waiter?' Cardozo mumbled. 'On the floor,' the commissaris mumbled. 'Pick another.'
'Green feces!' Grijpstra shouted. 'Yaahg!' A body fell and a tray clanged on the floor. There was another crash in the hall, and a scream.
The lights came on again. 'After them,' the baron yelled, picking up waiters. De Gier, supporting the commissaris's elbow, reached the hall. The stone angel lay on the floor, without its head. Karate was showing the head to Ketchup. The revolving glass doors still turned. The doorman lay next to the angel's body.
'A doctor!' Grijpstra shouted. 'This man is hurt!'
'Phone the police!' Cardozo screamed. 'Where's the phone? Can I use the phone?'
'I'm leaving!' the commissaris shouted. Waiters were running toward the revolving doors. De Gier stopped the doors, with two waiters stuck inside.
'Let go of that door!' the manager yelled. De Gier stepped back. The waiters, pushing furiously inside, tumbled out, one into the street, one back into the hallway.
'What's the number?' Cardozo shouted, holding up the phone. 'I've forgotten the number.'
The baron wrung the telephone from Cardozo's hands and smashed it down.
'You don't want to phone the police?' Cardozo asked. 'This is a robbery. Those fellows got away with the loot. I saw them. Black jackets. Chains. Didn't you see them?'
Karate tried to give the angel's head to the manager. The manager shook his head. 'As you like,' Karate said, 'I'm only trying to be helpful.' He dropped the head. The manager danced away.
'Clumsy,' Ketchup said. 'Look what you did. You got him on the toe.'
'Sir?' Grijpstra asked the dancing manager. 'Your kitchen is serving lobster feces. Do you know that? Yagh.'
'After you,' de Gier said to the commissaris.
The black doorman staggered away, holding his stomach.
There was a bellow from the roulette room. Ryder came into the hallway, rubbing his chin. 'Where's my money?'
'Lost it, old boy,' the baron said. 'We lost ours too.'
'Oh no,' Ryder squeaked. 'You're responsible for this place. You pay me back, double, I might have won.'
'We'll discuss it, old boy.'
'And where's the guy who hit me?' Ryder asked.
Guests were leaving the club. Cardozo left with them. 'Where's the bathroom?' Grijpstra asked a waiter. 'I've got lobster crap all over my hands.'
'Miss?' Ketchup asked the satin woman. 'Can I have some time with you now?'
Karate stood in front of a group of hostesses, pointing at them in turn. 'Eenie, meenie, minie, mo…'
'We're closing,' the baron shouted. 'Sorry, everybody out, please. We'll be closed for the rest of the week, due to refurbishing. 'Bye now. Thank you.'
'But we haven't been upstairs yet,' Karate protested. 'Please? We were gambling all night.' He tugged the baron's arm. 'We won. Can we copulate some of our winnings away?'
'Out,' the baron said.
Guests were shooed to the door. The waiters who had pursued the robbers came back, shaking their heads.
Grijpstra reappeared in the empty hallway, drying his hands with his handkerchief. 'Where's the chief cook? I have a complaint.'
'Goodbye,' the baron said.
Two uniformed policemen came in. 'Any trouble?'
'No trouble,' the baron said. 'Thank you. Closing early tonight.'
'What do you mean, no trouble?' Grijpstra asked. 'Listen, officers, I'm making a complaint, about the lobster I tried to eat here.'
'Please take this man out,' the baron said.
'Sir?' the cops said, pointing at the door.
'Oh, very well,' Grijpstra said, and left.
When Grijpstra arrived, the commissaris's wife opened the door. 'There you are, Adjutant, we were worried about you.'
'I'll never eat lobster again,' Grijpstra said. 'Good evening, ma'am. I'm sorry, I couldn't find a cab, and the night bus was slow. Is everybody here?'
\\ 22 /////
'Pick him up at his house?' Cardozo asked.
Adjutant Grijpstra braked for a traffic light. 'In the street, I would think. We don't want Huip Fernandus to know. It may take some time. Who knows where those fellows hang out?' The Citroen moved again. 'We don't have much time. I have a feeling we should push on. You want to collect that computer later today? What do we want with a computer?'
'Don't know yet,' Cardozo said, peering through sheets of rain pushed up by a city bus that passed their car. 'Might come in handy. Where's de Gier?'
Grijpstra switched the windshield wipers to double speed. 'In bed. The commissaris wants him to rest his ribs. Besides, everybody knows now that the sergeant's suspended.'
'De Gier wasn't happy with the raid.' Cardozo rolled a cigarette. 'Didn't get to do much.'
'Except keep Mrs. Guldemeester busy for a while.' Grijpstra grinned. 'The sergeant didn't want to do that, either. Do you know who brought that stone angel down last night?'
'Karate,' Cardozo said. 'Cut the wires while I took care of the lights. Karate likes spectacles. He and Ketchup did well, kept a few waiters out of the way and won a bundle at poker.'
'And handed the money over,' Grijpstra said. 'Surprising. Wicked little devils, but they did pay up. Don't think they kept a penny. Wonder why.'
'Honest?' Cardozo asked. 'Some of us are honest. You wouldn't have kept any of that Society's money, would you, Adjutant?'
'Bah.' Grijpstra shook his head.
'You need money,' Cardozo said. 'Everybody does.'
'Never cared for the stuff.' Grijpstra parked the car on the Binnenkant bridge. 'Let's hope we see Heul. If we do, you grab him. He may run if he spots me. Do you know what he looks like?'
'Thin?' Cardozo said. 'Orange hair? What do you have against money, Adjutant?'
'Money is weight.' Grijpstra lit a cigar. 'Buys furniture. Furniture clutters the house. Buys gadgets. Gadgets break down. Buys holidays. I hate holidays. Attracts company. I'd rather live alone.'
Cardozo puffed on his cigarette. 'I rather like money. All that cash yesterday was exciting. Close to a million. We really cleaned that place out. I could have counted it all night. De Gier doesn't like money, either, does he?'
'De Gier is going a little crazy,' Grijpstra said. 'Keeps babbling about killing that baron. He's been seeing too many movies.'
'The sergeant hardly ever sees movies.'
