It was his day off work to be with Louise.
“I can ask Sophie if she’ll take Lou for a few hours if you need me here?”
“No. You’ve got plans for today. All that food won’t make itself.”
“I don’t care about food. I care about you. Will you be okay with this bloke?”
“Got it covered. Go bake and whip up tons of goodies for tomorrow. Enjoy this day with Louise.”
His dark blue eyes sparkled. “I’m so excited. No work, just fun.”
“Come here.”
Jake came around the desk, and I pulled him into a hug. “Go straight home. Please.”
“I will. Don’t worry.”
“It’s my job to worry.” I thought back on last night and our emotional moment on the bed. All I ever did was worry about him.
“If this Parker bloke comes for me, I’ll break his fucking face!” His tone was no longer quiet or soft.
“Bad word!” Louise yelled. “That’s two euros, fifty cents.”
“Ah, s-sugar.”
“Daddy said three almosts and one bad.”
Jake turned to her. “Traitor.”
“Then Daddy will have to cough up the money,” I said.
My daughter offered a satisfied nod. “Cough up, Daddy.”
Jake sighed. “I’ll feed the box when we’re home.” He rolled his eyes at me. “I swear you both love ganging up on me.”
“Aw, poor Jake.”
“Save your pity, Tseng. I’m out of here.”
“Not without one more kiss.”
“Yeah, right. What have you done to deserve it?”
“I don’t know, be pretty to look at?”
He snorted then choked, setting Louise off on a giggling fit.
Once he was recovered, I landed one on him before he could protest.
I got another eye roll. “Thief. Going around stealing kisses.” He grinned then kissed his finger, planting it on my lips. “Have that. Right, Lou. Time to go. Say bye to Papa. We’ve got work to do.”
“Busy day, Papa,” Louise said, closing the book. She hurried over for a goodbye hug. “Love you.”
“Love you too, darling.”
God, I just wanted to go home with them both.
“See you later,” Jake said. “Call me if you have any trouble.”
“Same goes for you.”
He nodded. “Bye.” One more peck and he was heading down the stairs, taking point as Louise insisted on not being carried down. His face was all concentration, ready to pounce if she so much as slipped.
They both waved up at me and left the building. I closed the door and hurried to the cupboard.
Mr. Visser was still out cold, curled up in a ball.
I guess I’d have to wait.
Mr. Visser came around twenty minutes later, sitting up with a groan. He rubbed at the side of his head.
“Ready to talk now?” I asked.
“You hit me.”
“Yes. You kicked me first.”
He let out a heavy breath. “I am sorry.”
“That’s fine, I get your frustration. But you can’t be doing that here.”
“I am sorry.”
“Really, consider it forgotten.” I helped him to his feet. “Let me get you some water.”
I went to the little kitchenette next to the cupboard and fetched him a glass. He was back in the seat he’d previously occupied before he’d kicked off.
I felt sorry for him. Investigations like this could be slow, frustrating. Despite the door being unlocked, there wasn’t anything in what he said that pointed to the paranormal. Still, I couldn’t find it in my heart to turn him away.
“All good?”
Mr. Visser took several big gulps. “Yes. Thank you.”
“Now then, let’s get back to it. Please, don’t lose your temper at my questions. I need to ask them to get a broader picture of things.”
He nodded.
“Okay, so, does your wife have any enemies?”
“No.”
“What about you?”
“No. We live a quiet life. A small group of friends.”
My phone rang. Lars’s name came up on the screen. “Excuse me, I need to take this.”
“Of course.”
“Lars?”
“Dean?” Lars replied down the line. “Can you come down to Waterlooplein? We’ve got a situation we could use your help with.”
Waterlooplein was a metro station. Lars wouldn’t call me if there wasn’t a paranormal element to a case. “I’m with a client at the moment.”
“If it’s Mr. Visser, I think we might have found his wife.”
Seven
Dean
I’d asked Mr. Visser some more questions, then told him I’d be in touch. There was no way I could tell him what Lars had said. Not yet.
He’d gone home with a sore head but had told me he’d appreciated my time.
I took my motorbike down to Waterlooplein metro station, where there was police tape cordoning everything off. Some officers were clearing people away, the blue lights of their cars flashing.
The coroner’s van was also there.
Lars, a bear of a man with cropped ginger hair and a beard, was waiting for me at the station entrance in his blue uniform. His normally rosy skin was ashen. Not a good sign.
“Hallo, Dean. Thanks for coming down.”
“Are you in detective mode again?”
“That’s right.” He didn’t look too pleased about that. This was his second job as a detective. His first had been to solve a human murder which had ended up with the killer caught, and then the daughter of the victim taking her own life by throwing herself in front of a high-speed train, despite Lars’s best efforts to talk her out of it.
Lars was good at his job but preferred being a patrolling officer rather than doing the heavy detective stuff. Still, his superiors must have seen something in him on that first case to give him this one. After all, he’d solved the mystery and caught the murderer when no one else could.
“What happened with Mr. Visser?” he asked.
“Sent him home. Didn’t say a word.”
“Good.”
I went under the tape with him, and we started walking down to the paused escalator, then passed through the ticket barriers, and headed down another escalator. As we descended, a group of crime scene investigators came into view at the far end of the platform.
“What’s happened?” I asked.
“She was found an hour ago. Body was hidden behind a pillar.”
“Right.”
He shook his head as we walked across the tiled floor. “Dean,
