Fifteen
Dean
I was watching Mr. Visser on my phone via the small camera I’d left outside his building. He stepped outside after not being home for long, but he didn’t do anything other than look up for a few minutes, just staring into the sky as people walked by. Then he went back inside.
“What are you doing?” I said to the screen.
My phone buzzed. Jake.
“Sonny’s found a body at Flevopark,” he said. “I’m heading that way now.”
“Shit. Another one. Has he called it in to the police?”
“I don’t know, was hoping you could, just in case?”
“Sure. On it now.”
“Thanks, treacle. How’s things over there?”
“Watching Mr. Visser.” I kept one eye on the screen. “He just walked out of his building, then went back in.”
“Why?”
“Fresh air, maybe?”
“Why not open a window? It’s friggin’ freezing out here!”
“You okay with heading over there?”
“Yeah, fine. Sonny sounded pretty freaked out. Guessing this is another boneless victim. Anyway, hopping on the bike. Will ping you when I get there.”
“I’m calling it in.”
Shit. I should be there with him, not stuck here still while the goblins worked.
We ended our call, and then I informed the police. They were sending officers straight over there.
That was three victims now if it was another one with the bones taken. The autopsy on the guy from Rembrantplein was set to take place in about two hours—Dr. Geels presiding over things, once again.
“Dean?”
I turned to Lars, surprised to see him. “I didn’t know you were here.” I didn’t like the look on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“Another one.”
“What? A body?”
“Yes. Dean…” He was hesitating.
“What is it? Tell me?”
“It’s … it’s in the canal outside your house.”
Sixteen
Jake
I headed down the sloped road that ran alongside the tramlines, turning right at the crossing to a carpark on the other side beneath the flyover that became Amsterdamsebrug, the bridge crossing the Amsterdam-Rijn canal.
Sonny was waiting in the carpark, wringing his hands.
The tram line that runs to Flevopark normally terminated here, but none were currently running due to some purple pods on the sloping part of the track, the blobs surrounded by the tram company’s orange barriers.
The police hadn’t arrived. I’d got here way too quickly, breaking the speed limit for sure.
“A body?” They were the first words to come out of my mouth as I removed my helmet.
Sonny, his coat covered in fresh, wet mud, had the wide-eyed fear of a man who’d just seen something fucked up.
He was shaking, his rattlesnake tail between his legs. “Y-yes.”
“You call the police?”
“No.”
“Dean has. They’ll be here soon.”
He looked like he was about to throw up whatever was in his stomach.
A man on a pushbike passed along the pathway opposite the carpark that ran past an abandoned sports hall, as well as an apartment block with more boarded-up windows.
Other than the biker, it was fairly quiet, a few cars parked up. In the distance, over in the park, I saw some dog walkers, their pets firmly on their leads. Dogs tended to be too inquisitive when it came to pods.
“Where’s the body?” I asked.
“Follow me.”
“Let’s wait for the police first. Can’t have them turn up after we’ve wandered off.”
I wasn’t mad with him over the Brem incident anymore. Okay, I was a little bit for landing us in a shitty situation, but the poor bloke was proper shaken up.
“You’re the PIA,” he said.
“Yeah, but they’ll be involved in moving the body and securing the area. I can’t just go wandering off without telling them.”
“It’s not far.”
“You flippin’ deaf? We’re waiting until the cops roll up. Okay?”
Man, was he shaking like crazy.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be going to see it again,” I added.
If the state of the body was anything like the second victim, then a double viewing for Sonny wouldn’t be good for him.
I had an idea where it might be if I needed to follow him. There is a turnaround spot beneath the flyover, where the road starts to rise. Farther beyond that point where the trams turn, through a hole in the fence, is a series of spots between each gap in the pillars, each of these spots flooded but with a muddy path between the overgrown reeds that cut through the water. You could cross those dirt paths to reach each pillar holding up the flyover, making it all the way to a dead-end with more water between you and a skate park. It’d once been a popular graffiti spot but hadn’t got much turnover in recent years. A pod-related murder would do that.
“Please, we can’t wait,” Sonny said, his voice too soft.
“Erm, yes, we can. As you said, I’m the PIA here, and what I say goes. Get that in your head and stop being a dick. You’re on the thinnest ice possible, matey. Get that in your end. Don’t piss me off.”
“Jake—”
“So, the police are on their way?”
That voice.
Tessa stepped out from behind a pillar, all in black. “Then I suppose we’d better move ourselves.”
“You!” I hissed. “What the fuck are you doing here?” I drew my spear.
Police sirens in the distance.
Tessa looked behind me in the direction of the sound. “We are pushed for time,” she said. “I thought we’d have a better window than this.”
Three men joined her, coming out from behind the pillar. I blinked to be sure of what I was seeing, triplets. Each man was bald and olive-skinned. All of them had brown eyes, but they came in different sizes—scrawny, stocky, and big as hell. All of them were dressed in black, they all carried a weapon. The scrawny one had a sword, the stocky one an ax, and the biggest guy was brandishing a sledgehammer.
Triplets! Bloody triplets! What were they, the Family Goon?
A black van came tearing down the road, making a sharp turn, darting over the crossing into the carpark and screeching to a halt. What the hell? The windows were tinted, hiding the driver—who didn’t turn the engine off.
A trap. Sonny had led me
