under trees mostly. The fishermen grow it.'
'With the sheriff's blessing?'
'Of course,' de Gier said. 'Give and take. Yankees are like the Dutch-why fight ifyou can split the dollar mostly your way? But the homegrown stuff is hard work and doesn't compare in quality to what Hairy Harry is bringing in.'
'Or doesn't bring in.'
'What?'
Aki came to take their order. De Gier ordered crab rolls for both. 'Aren't you lucky?' Aki said to Grijpstra. 'You get to eat again and I rush straight back to work. Aren't we busy?' More fishermen were coming in, she had to hurry off.
'Didn't Aki tell you about the arrests near the Point?' Grijpstra asked.
'I heard,' de Gier said. 'You mean the DEA missing out on the truckers who came to pick up a ship's load of Jamaican or Guatemalan or some other top-quality pot, hidden here near the Point? I read about it. So what happened really?'
'Aki didn't tell you?' Grijpstra looked surprised. 'I thought she told all.'
'Not all.' De Gier looked modest. 'I'm not the fatherly type.'
'I'm not sure about the details,' Grijpstra said. 'She said someone spotted the shipment from the air, so that was probably Ishmael. Her contact told her he saw stacks ofbales, in camouflage-colored covers hidden on the shore somewhere near here. So Aki tells her secret employer, and the DEA tells Hairy Harry, as it's his turf. Hairy Harry and Billy Boy hide in the woods waiting for someone to pick up the consignment. The DEA is there too, eager pimply youths according to Aki, lots of them, hands on guns, but Hairy Harry, being the local warlord, is in charge.'
'Oh dear,' de Gier said.
'Right. An eighteen-wheeler backs up slowly into the glade, the driver and his mates jump out of the truck's cabin…'
'… and before they can put their hands on the merchandise Hairy Harry is out there snapping on handcufts.' De Gier nodded wisely. 'That's how it goes.'
'Need to hear the rest of it?'
'If you please.'
'So the truckers tell the judge they were parking the truck for lunch, and just as they were going to break out the hamburgers there's Bald Baby and they don't know why. How could they know there were bales of marijuana hidden in the bushes? 'Jeez, Judge… what kind of a place is this Maine anyway?''
'And the judge says he regrets the inconvenience caused to these nice out-of-state truck drivers trying to have lunch at the wayside.'
'Never underestimate local authority's expertise at exploiting its area.'
'Hairy Harry did lose his shipment, though,' de Gier said. 'He must have been saddened. But what the hell, you lose ten percent, ninety percent is still millions.'
Aki brought the crab rolls, a foot long, well filled.
Grijpstra ate. 'You know the biggest-size crab roll in Holland now?' He held his thumb and index finger two inches apart. 'Costs a day's wage too.' He leaned over. 'About this case of yours. Know your enemy. Remember the stratagem? Say I used that on Aki, flipped into her mind. Say we can use the trick on the others too. Aki told me that Flash and Bad George are musical, Flash on the tuba, Bad George on the fiddle. School-band days. A musical get-together?'
De Gier thought that was funny. He choked on his crab roll.
Grijpstra waited. 'Okay? Aki said Ishmael plays piano.'
'A faulty upright,' de Gier said, still smiling in spite of his pains. 'We tried 'St. Louis Blues' together. I wailed. He pecked. But Flash Farnsworth on the tuba?' De Gier choked again. Grijpstra, eyes closed, chewing and smiling, ignored the disturbance.
'I'm okay now,' de Gier said.
Grijpstra swallowed. 'Here is what we do. I want you to tell Flash and Bad George that you're not going through with this extortion nonsense, you want to get that bullshit out of the way. That you like them, and that dumb dog is okay too, that you don't want them to think they have something on you. You can pay them something for expenses, hold out a little more for later.'
De Gier nodded. 'Fine.'
'You offer a get-together party.'
'Do some bonding?' de Gier asked.
'Force a bit of a showdown,' Grijpstra said. 'We're running out oftime. Aki was over at Lorraine's quite a lot?'
'Yes.' De Gier nodded.
'And she could go again any time soon,' Grijpstra said, 'and then raise the alarm.' He ruefully contemplated his empty plate.
'Look,' de Gier said, shifting about on his chair a bit, 'I know what you're getting at-create some easy atmosphere, get somebody to talk so that we can find out where the body is. I don't care, of course, and you're in charge, but what do you think those jokers, Flash and Bad George, would do if they got irritable, or downright angry?'
'Let's see now,' Grijpstra said. 'They might dig up the body and show it around.'
'Which makes them accessories,' de Gier said. 'Whatever way they present their case, either they buried Lorraine themselves or they watched me do it. So why haven't they told? Because they mean to suck me dry? That's another charge.'
'So they won't do that,' Grijpstra said. 'They would rather drop a hint. Sherifffinds Lorraine's remains. After that the finger points. At who? At you.'
'Because of the autopsy,' de Gier said, 'coroner concludes that body was abused, causing miscarriage…'
'No evidence for Harry to link killer and corpse,' Grijpstra said. 'Flash and Bad George know that too. Nothing but vague conjecture.. . slippery stuff.' He pushed his chair back. He held his head to the side. He dropped his voice. 'But rattling little guys with loving kindness may be a good way to find Snow White.'
De Gier looked nervous. 'You sure that's the way to play this?'
'I don't want to play at all,' Grijpstra said, 'but I'm in this now. They have nothing on you. Nobody saw you kick the woman. I don't want you paying off hoodlums.'
De Gier smiled. 'Hoodlums-Flash and Bad George? I don't really mind giving them money. They can fix up their tub.'
'They won't get greedy and keep hounding you for more?'
'Yes,' de Gier nodded. 'There's that too.'
'For sure there's that too,' Grijpstra said. 'And maybe that's still not the point. You want to find out ifyou did what it seems you did. You can't accept that in yourself. You don't really believe it. Without the body you'll never know.'
'I can't live with this,' de Gier said. 'You know that, don't you?'
'What if you have to?'
De Gier shook his head. 'Maybe I could accept it in you. My best friend turns out to be a killer, so? Man has to use whatever happens to be around.' He sucked in his cheeks, raised his upper lip, and imitated the commissaris's slightly shrill voice. 'Gentlemen, please remember: You can only use people the way they come, not the way you'd like them to come.'
'So you're a user now too?' Grijpstra laughed, then looked serious. 'You would still want me for a friend even if I kicked Nellie down her new oak stairs?'
'You'd be sorry, wouldn't you?' de Gier asked.
'Are you sorry?'
'Yes,' de Gier said. 'I'll never drink or do dope again.'
'Try a year.'
'Ever,' de Gier said. 'It releases the wrong demons.'
