The Weeping Girl

Vegesack shook his head.

‘No, he was a few years older than me. Besides, I’ve only been living in Lejnice since ’93. I come from Linzhuisen.’

‘I see,’ said fru Van Rippe. ‘No, he didn’t have many friends, our Tim.’

‘No?’

‘No. He was a bit of a loner.’

Vegesack didn’t know what to say to that, and she didn’t enlarge on the subject. She sighed and put on a pair of glasses instead.

‘It’s nice weather,’ she said, as if she’d only just noticed that.

‘Yes,’ said Vegesack. ‘Warm and sunny.’

Not much more was said during the rest of the journey. They arrived in Lejnice at five minutes to one and he parked in Zeestraat outside the Westerblatt office.

She looked at him in surprise.

‘The newspaper? What have we come here for?’

Vegesack cleared his throat.

‘It’s full up in the police station, so we’ve borrowed a room from them, that’s all.’

He couldn’t make up his mind if she believed him or not.

Moreno bought a bottle of port for Selma Perhovens, as a thank-you for her hospitality, but she was a bit worried when it came to finding a suitable present for Drusilla. In the end she plumped for a book for so-called young adults that had won several prizes, and a box of chocolates: she had noticed that Drusilla had a rather full bookcase in her room, and she shouldn’t have any trouble in forcing down the chocolates.

Both mother and daughter seemed pleased with their presents, and Moreno left the Perhovens’ home after various exchanges of mutual admiration and promises to keep in touch. She deposited her suitcase at the railway station, had a final sunbathing session on the beach, and at two o’clock — as arranged — she met Inspector Baasteuwel at Darms’ for lunch.

‘Things are warming up,’ said Baasteuwel when their salad had been served, ‘but there’s some way to go before we catch up with the weather.’

‘Do you mean you’re not going to be able to serve me up with the solution?’ said Moreno.

‘I’m afraid so,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘We’ve not quite sorted everything out yet. God only knows how it all hangs together, in fact.’

Moreno waited.

‘And God only knows what’s happened to Mikaela Lijphart. We haven’t had a single response to the Wanted notice — not even the usual loonies who always ring to say that they’ve seen the devil and his auntie. It all seems a bit dodgy — but we’ve checked up and made sure that Vrommel isn’t hushing something up.’

‘What about Maager?’ said Moreno. ‘Have you asked Sigrid Lijphart about that telephone call to the Sidonis home?’

‘Yes, of course. She swears blind it wasn’t her. She hasn’t spoken to him for sixteen years, she claims, and has no intention of doing so for the next sixteen either. A warm-hearted lady, no doubt about that. But I suppose she has her reasons.’

‘Perhaps she’s lying.’

‘Could be,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘I haven’t spoken to her myself, it was Kohler who took care of that. Anyway, Maager is lying in his bed, staring at the same stain on the wallpaper. When he has his eyes open, that is — they had to shovel all kinds of stuff into him in order to help him sleep. But Winnie Maas is a bit more interesting — would you like to hear?’

‘I’m all ears,’ said Moreno.

Baasteuwel drank half a glass of mineral water and steered his fork round two laps of his salad before responding.

‘She wasn’t exactly God’s little angel.’

‘So I’ve gathered,’ said Moreno.

‘Hardly anybody wants to admit that they knew her, in fact. Everybody I’ve spoken to goes into their shell as soon as I start asking questions about her. They simply don’t want to talk about her. They all say that they knew who she was, but nobody has owned up to being a friend of hers. So her role is becoming pretty clear. A young and shameless femme fatale, to over-dramatize it a bit. This damned Bitowski fellow admitted that he’d been in bed with her once — but God only knows how many others were. And she was only sixteen when she died. And nobody seems to doubt that it really was Maager who pushed her over the edge of the viaduct. Nobody at all.’

Moreno thought for a moment.

‘So even if he wasn’t the father of the child, everybody thought it was him?’

‘It seems so. The important thing was that he thought he’d made her pregnant. Not that it was necessarily the truth. She intended to exploit the situation somehow or other, and he put a stop to that. Well, it couldn’t get much more straightforward than that.’

‘What about Vrommel? And that doctor?’

Baasteuwel sighed.

‘God only knows. Even if deHaavelaar really did withhold information, it wouldn’t necessarily be all that important.’

‘Yes it would,’ protested Moreno. ‘He must have had a reason for doing so. And Vrommel must have had a reason for keeping quiet about Vera Sauger. It’s simple logic.’

‘Hmm,’ muttered Baasteuwel. ‘I know. Damn and blast. All I said was that things were beginning to warm up. We’ll sort this mess out eventually, if for no other reason than the fact that I’m determined to teach this chief of police a lesson he won’t forget. He has something on his conscience, and so help me God, I’m going to make him face up to it as well. I promise to keep you informed about the date of the execution. And everything else, of course — if you’re interested.’

Moreno nodded.

‘I’m most concerned about that girl,’ she said. ‘I don’t want anything to have happened to Mikaela Lijphart, but I’m afraid that. . well, you know.’

‘Yes,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘Of course I know. We’ve seen it all before, you and I. But it doesn’t do any harm to be an optimist until the opposite is proved to be the case, that’s the principle I usually observe. We’re going to turn our attention to the mother today. Van Rippe’s mother, that is. With the assistance of Wicker, the editor of the local paper.’ He looked at the clock. ‘They should be sitting in the editorial office right now. It could produce results — Wicker knows this dump inside out. Anyway, that’s the situation in broad outline.’

‘And Vrommel doesn’t suspect anything?’

Baasteuwel displayed his teeth.

‘Not yet. He just wonders why Kohler and I haven’t gone home.’

‘And how have you explained that away?’

‘That we like Lejnice, and have crap marriages,’ said Baasteuwel, with a new grin. ‘He believes it, the silly bugger. He’s never been married, and seems to think that’s a blessing.’

Moreno had no comment to make on that.

‘Time we started eating,’ she said instead.

37

Intendent Kohler introduced himself and invited fru Van Rippe to sit down.

‘I assume you recognize herr Wicker, the editor of Westerblatt?’

Fru Van Rippe sat down and looked in surprise at first one, then the other of them.

‘Yes, of course,’ she said. ‘But where’s the chief of police? I thought he was in charge of this case?’

‘He’s a bit busy at the moment,’ said Kohler. ‘There’s an awful lot to do, as I’m sure you realize. I’ve been