'No.' Sanders grinned. 'The way I'm working this, it will seem as if the commands were given in the bank's administration, by order of the account holders themselves. I have all the codes.'
'And the nun won't give the money back?' Karate asked.
'I'm a Catholic,' Ketchup said. 'I know nuns. Nuns never give anything back. Finders keepers.'
'But she's such a holy nun,' said the commissaris's wife.
Sergeant Biersma grunted. 'The holier the better. The Lord is the holiest of all, and He never gives anything back, either.'
'You know that?' the commissaris asked.
'Yes, sir, I was raised as a member of the Dutch Reformed Protestant Church. We know God at His grimmest.'
The computer's keyboard clicked away. Luminous figures flashed on and off.
'There,' Sanders said. 'Done.'
'Grand total?' the commissaris asked.
'Maybe thirty million, sir. I don't know what the shares and bonds will be worth tomorrow. Could be more, the stock market is turning bullish again.'
Miss Antoinette's knuckles rapped against the glass door of the porch. Carl held up his ark. The commissaris's wife opened the door and the artwork was shown around. The toy animals inside had been glued together in copulating positions.
'I'll tahake them ouhout again,' Carl said. 'It's only ajohoke.'
'They're yours,' the commissaris said.
'Then you keeheep the whole thing here, sir. My pleaheasure.'
'Why, thank you, dear boy. It's a beautiful piece of work.' The commissaris set the construction on the mantel. 'Drinks all around, Katrien?'
The commissaris's stock of liquor was soon depleted, together with all the food in the house, transformed into snacks by his wife and Mrs. Jongs. Ketchup and Karate giggled a lot, patting the computer. Sergeant Biersma and Constable Ramsau swore they would apply for transfers to the Amsterdam Murder Brigade. Grijpstra described his paintings to Miss Antoinette, stressing the importance of background colors. Mrs. Jongs discussed lizards with Carl. Izzy and Cardozo played a war game on the computer, a giveaway from the store that had supplied the equipment, scoring most by hitting ambulances and a platoon of medics. The commissaris found de Gier.
'Hiding?'
'Me?' de Gier asked. 'No. Why? I'm just having a quiet drink. Congratulations, sir, you did pull this off well.'
'Where's the Ferrari?' the commissaris asked.
De Gier thought. 'Ferrari?'
'Ryder's Ferrari that wasn't there when I left the motel. You weren't there, either.'
'Oh, that Ferrari,' de Gier said.
'You won't tell me?'
'Sir,' de Gier said. 'You've just killed Fernanda.'
'I have not.'
'He's as good as dead,' de Gier said. 'He just doesn't know it yet. The baron is in the same position, but I demand the privilege of completing his situation.'
'Are you two having a furious little chat?' the commissaris's wife asked. 'Would you care for some sausage and mustard? What's the trouble, dear?'
'You tell her, Sergeant,' the commissaris snapped.
'Thank you, ma'am.' De Gier ate his sausage.
'I'm a white knight. I found my black knight. We will now have a duel.'
'Childish,' the commissaris said.
'In style,' de Gier said. 'Just for once I will do something in style. I'm still suspended. I'm flying around. I came down to help your husband out, and now that Cardozo has been good enough to take care of the case, I'll be tootling off and I won't come back until the victory is mine.'
'Is he drunk?' the commissaris's wife asked. 'Don't drive home, Sergeant. Take a cab.' She tapped Mrs. Jongs on the shoulder. 'Go and tell Adjutant Grijpstra about your lizards, dear, he wants to paint them. Miss Antoinette? I wonder if you'd do me a favor. Poor Carl is a bit unsteady on his legs; I'm afraid I poured him a rather stiff drink. Would you mind taking him home when the party is over?'
'Rinus,' the commissaris said, 'please.'
De Gier refilled his glass. 'Just once,' he said dreamily. 'Just once. I've heard a lot about it, I've read the exposes, I just want to know what it's like. Good guy kills bad guy.'
The guests left, except Mrs. Jongs, who wanted to do the dishes. The commissaris and his wife walked about, picking up ashtrays and glasses. The commissar is's wife smiled; the commissaris frowned.
'Damn de Gier.'
'You think he's serious, dear? You think Carl knows what to do with Miss Antoinette?'
'Yes,' the commissaris said.
'He won't shy away?'
'Miss Antoinette can be very persistent.'
She grabbed hold of him. 'You see, it's true. I see it all now. In your office, probably, behind a locked door. Or did you take her to a hotel somewhere? Her apartment, maybe?'
The commissaris dropped a glass. 'See what you made me do.'
'Answer me, Jan.'
'Katrien.' He picked up the shards.
'What a fool I've been.' She stamped her foot. 'The wife is always the last to know. All those evenings you had to work late.'
'Hee hee.'
'You're laughing?'
'You flatter me, Katrien. Me? My teeth come out. See?' He wobbled his lower dentures.
'You don't do it with your plastic teeth, Jan.'
'You're like Paul Voort,' the commissaris said. 'We're in the twentieth century, dear. The Inquisition is over.'
'Who is Paul Voort?'
'That nasty man you shooed out of the door. He accused me of theft.'
'Ach.' She grabbed hold of him again. 'You don't steal things.'
'I just stole thirty million.'
'No, you gave it away.'
'And you gave Miss Antoinette away.'
'You are jealous.' She shook him. 'Confess.'
'Of Carl,' the commissaris said.
'What do you mean, of Carl?'
'You like Carl,' the commissaris said. 'That's why I said he could have Miss Antoinette.'
'You're jealous of Carl and me…' She held him at arm's length. 'Jan!'
'I'm very jealous,' the commissaris said. 'I realize that now. That's why I destroyed Fernandus.'
'You thought that Fernandus and I… really, Jan, I'm sixty years old and I haven't seen him in thirty.'
'Something else,' the commissaris said, 'something else again. I haven't thought it all out, but I assure you I never touched Miss Antoinette.'
'You're sure now?'
'Sure,' the commissaris said. 'You can kiss me to make up.'
'No, you kiss me.'
'That's nice,' Mrs. Jongs said from the door. 'I never kisses anyone. Bob doesn't like that. It isn't in the price.'
Janwillem Van De Wetering
Hard Rain
