She went to the bathroom and had a shower. After ten minutes her body began to feel as if it were hers again. And as that happened, her thoughts began to branch out in another direction.
That was inevitable, of course. It was time to re-enter the real world. High time.
She put on her dressing gown and started by going through her mail. Bills, adverts, four picture postcards and a wage slip. Very interesting.
Then she listened to the messages on her telephone answering machine. After considerable thought, she had decided to leave her mobile at home while she undertook the Sorbinowo Tour: so there ought to be quite a few messages waiting for her attention.
And so there were. All kinds of things. A couple of cheerful greetings from Mikael Bau, for instance, and a message from her mother explaining that they (her father as well, presumably, always assuming that nothing hair-raisingly horrific had happened while she’d been away) were on the point of setting off for the airport to catch their flight to Florida, and that they wouldn’t be back until the end of August. In case she tried to contact them and wondered why there was no response.
Eleven messages in all, explained the cool female voice on the tape.
But nothing from Baasteuwel.
Nothing from Vegesack or Kohler. Nothing from Mun-ster.
Not even anything from Selma Perhovens.
Ah well, Moreno thought as she went out to buy something for breakfast. One should never overestimate one’s importance.
It was half past six in the evening when she finally got hold of Inspector Baasteuwel.
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Are you back?’
‘I got home yesterday. I thought you said you’d be in touch?’
‘I tried, but I don’t like leaving empty messages on an answering machine.’
‘Really? Well?’
Baasteuwel paused.
‘We’ve shelved it.’
‘Shelved it?’
‘Yes. That was the best thing to do. We came to that conclusion, Kohler and I. I’m on leave now.’
Moreno’s mind was swamped by a tsunami of absurd incomprehension.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’ she said. ‘What about Vrommel? You said it was just a matter of time.’
She could hear Baasteuwel lighting a cigarette.
‘Now listen here,’ he said. ‘You have to trust me. It wasn’t possible to pin down that bastard as we’d hoped. We were in total agreement, Kohler and I, that we should stop digging into it any further. Vegesack as well. There was nothing else to take up, and no reason to take things any further. Not as things turned out.’
‘Not as things turned out?’ said Moreno. ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand what you’re saying.’
‘Maybe not,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘But that’s how things turned out in any case. You would agree with me if you had all the details in front of you.’
‘Details? What details?’
‘Rather a lot of them, in fact. I can assure you that this is the best solution. It’s just the way it turned out — that’s how it is in a lot of cases, as you ought to know.’
Thoughts were piling up inside Moreno’s head, and she pinched herself on the arm several times to check that she really was awake before continuing.
‘You swore blind that you were going to put Vrommel behind bars,’ she reminded him angrily. ‘An innocent girl has disappeared and a man has been murdered. You became a police officer in order to get the chance of putting guilty swine behind bars, and now. .’
‘It wasn’t possible on this occasion.’
‘And Van Rippe?’
‘The case is in the chief of police’s hands. Kohler and I were called in merely to help out with the early stages of the investigation, don’t forget that. We’ve left it now.’
Moreno removed the receiver from her ear and regarded it with suspicion for a few seconds.
‘Is it really Inspector Baasteuwel of the Wallburg police who I’m talking to?’ she asked eventually.
Baasteuwel laughed.
‘I am indeed that who,’ he said. ‘But I think I can detect a trace of impatience in the inspector’s voice. It sounds almost as if she’s wondering about various things.’
‘Too right I am,’ said Moreno. ‘You’ve hit the nail on the head, dammit. I don’t understand what language you’re speaking. You are abandoning a murder and a missing girl, and going on leave. On which side is your brain haemorrhage?’
‘Right in the middle,’ said Baasteuwel cheerily. ‘I agree that I might well sound a bit off course now that my holiday is beginning to take root. But if you really do want to find out a bit more about what’s been happening in Lejnice, I suppose I might be able to get a grip and accede to your request.’
‘It’s your duty, dammit,’ said Moreno. ‘Where and when?’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘The sooner, the better.’
Baasteuwel seemed to be thinking it over.
‘Somewhere in Maardam, perhaps? So that you’re on home ground.’
‘Sounds good,’ said Moreno.
‘Gamla Vlissingen — is it still there?’
‘It certainly is.’
‘Okay,’ said Baasteuwel. ‘Tomorrow at seven o’clock, will that be okay? I’ll book a table.’
‘That will be excellent,’ said Moreno.
She hung up and stared out of the window, which was just beginning to be splattered with a new downpour of rain coming in from the west.
I don’t understand this, she thought. I haven’t a bloody clue what’s going on.
40
The Vlissingen restaurant was just as full as usual. She was slightly late, and passed by the solitary girl in the corner without reacting. It was only when she had walked around and investigated the whole of the premises — and established with some irritation that Inspector Baasteuwel didn’t seem to be there — that she realized who it was.
And even then it was some time before her brain was able to interpret what her sight had told her. She shut her eyes tightly in order to reinstate reality, then walked over to the table. The girl began to stand up, then changed her mind and sat down again. Then she gave a tentative smile. Very tentative.
‘Mikaela?’ said Moreno. ‘Mikaela Lijphart? Is it really you?’
‘Yes,’ said the girl, with a nervous laugh. Moreno could see that her lower lip was trembling.
‘Inspector Baas. .?’ Moreno began, but at the same moment the penny dropped and it dawned on her that no, Inspector Baasteuwel would not be coming to the Vlissingen restaurant this evening. This was how he had planned it. This was what lay behind the inconsistencies of the previous evening’s telephone call.
Good Lord, she thought, surely I ought to have caught on? Then she produced the biggest smile she was capable of and encouraged the girl to stand up so that she could give her a big hug.
‘I. . I’m so glad to see you,’ she said.
‘Me too,’ Mikaela managed to say in return. ‘It was him. . Inspector Baasteuwel. . who said you would no doubt want to meet me. He said I should wait here for you. And he gave me some money so that I could treat you to a meal as well.’
