‘I don’t remember what I was thinking,’ she said, ‘but I supposed people would realize that was the knife I’d used if they found it. I wasn’t thinking clearly.’
The judge nodded and looked mildly reproachful.
‘I’m sure you weren’t,’ he said. ‘But don’t you think it was rather odd that you immediately told the police that the knife was missing?’
She did not answer. Judge Hart pulled a hair out of his nostril and examined it for a moment before flicking it over his shoulder and continuing.
‘Did you meet fru Van Eck at all during the days before she disappeared?’
Bachmann started gesturing, but seemed to realize that it wasn’t appropriate to protest when it was the judge himself asking the questions. He moved his chair noisily and leaned back nonchalantly instead. Looked up at the ceiling. As if what was happening had nothing to do with him.
‘I had coffee with her and her husband one afternoon. They invited me.’
‘That was on the Tuesday, wasn’t it?’
She thought about it.
‘Yes, it must have been.’
‘And then she disappeared on the Wednesday?’
‘As far as I know, yes. Why are you asking about that?’
The judge made a vague gesture with his hands, as if to say that they might just as well chat about these events, seeing as they were all gathered together here.
‘Just one more little question,’ he said eventually. ‘It doesn’t happen to be the case that you needed this time – these seven days or however long it was – for some special purpose?’
‘I don’t understand what you mean,’ said Leverkuhn.
Judge Hart took out a large red handkerchief and blew his nose.
‘I think you do,’ he muttered. ‘But you may leave the dock now.’
Marie-Louise Leverkuhn thanked him and did as she had been told.
Judge Hart, Van Veeteren thought as he came out into the street and opened up his umbrella. What a terrific police officer the old distorter of the law would have made!
25
Moreno knocked and entered. Munster looked up from the reports he was reading.
‘Have a pew,’ he said. ‘How did it go?’
She flopped down on the chair without even unbuttoning her brown suede jacket. Shook her head a few times, and he noticed that she was on the verge of tears.
‘Not all that well,’ she said.
Munster put his pen in his breast pocket and slid the stack of files to one side. He waited for the continuation, but there wasn’t one.
‘I see,’ he said in the end. ‘Feel free to tell me about it.’
Ewa Moreno dug her hands into her pockets and took a deep breath. Munster noted that he did the opposite – held his breath.
‘I explained to him that it was all over now. Definitely over and done with. He’s off to the USA for a course tomorrow morning. He said that if I don’t change my mind, he won’t be coming back. So that’s where we’re at.’
She fell silent, and looked past his shoulder, out of the window. Munster swallowed, and for a fleeting moment acknowledged that if he had been in Claus Badher’s shoes he would probably have done the same.
‘You mean…?’ he said.
‘Yes,’ said Moreno. ‘That’s what he meant. I know it. He’s intending to take his own life.’
Five seconds passed.
‘It doesn’t have to be that serious. A lot of people say things like that.’
‘Maybe,’ said Moreno. ‘And a lot of people do it. God, I sometimes wish I could just disappear into a black hole. Everything feels so damned hopeless. I’ve tried to persuade him to at least talk to somebody… To seek some kind of help. To do anything at all that leaves me out of it – but you men are just the way you are.’
‘The macho mystery?’ said Munster.
‘Yes, of course. We’ve already talked about that.’
She shrugged apologetically.
‘Do you have somebody to talk to yourself?’ Munster asked.
A slight blush coloured her face.
‘Oh yes,’ she said. ‘An old detective intendent I happen to know, among others. No, enough of this. Isn’t there any work I can immerse myself in?’
‘A whole ocean,’ said Munster. ‘Plus a stagnant backwater called the Leverkuhn case. Could that be something for you?’
‘You’re not going to shelve it?’
‘I can’t,’ said Munster. ‘I’ve tried, but I dream about it at night.’
Moreno nodded and took her hands out of her pockets.
‘Okay,’ she said. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I’ve been thinking about that daughter I spoke to,’ said Munster. ‘Could that be something worth following up?’
‘Odd,’ said Rooth.
‘What is?’ said Jung.
‘Can’t you see?’
‘No, I’m blind.’
Rooth snorted.
‘Look at the other houseboats. That one… And that one!’
He pointed. Jung looked, and stamped his feet in an attempt to create a bit of heat.
‘I’m freezing,’ he said. ‘Tell me what you are on about, or I’ll throw you into the canal.’
‘Spoken like a true gentleman,’ said Rooth. ‘It’s not moored next to the quay, you berk. Why the hell has he anchored a metre out into the water?’
Jung registered that this really was the case. Bonger’s canal boat – which he was now gaping at for the seventh or eighth time – was not moored with its rail next to the stone quayside. Instead it was held in place by four hawsers as thick as your arm and a couple of fenders made out of rough wooden logs with car tyres fixed to the end, wedged between the hull of the boat and the quay half a metre above the waterline. The narrow gang- plank, which he had crossed a month ago, ran for a metre and a half over open water very nearly to the bows of the boat. Come to think of it, he had to admit that this was a bit odd.
‘All right,’ said Jung. ‘But what’s the significance?’
‘How the hell should I know?’ said Rooth. ‘But it’s an unusual set-up. Anyway, shall we call in on the old witch?’
Jung bit his lip.
‘Maybe we should have brought her something.’
‘Brought her something? What the hell are you on about?’
‘She’s a bit of a one-off, I’ve explained that already. We’d be more likely to get somewhere with her if we presented her with a drop of something tasty.’
Rooth shuddered.
‘A curse on this bloody wind,’ he said. ‘Okay, there’s an off-licence on the corner over there. Nip over and buy a half bottle of gin, and I’ll wait here for you.’
Ten minutes later they were ensconced in the galley with fru Jumpers. Just as Jung had predicted, the gin was much appreciated – especially as it was the coldest day so far this winter, and the lady of the boat had a visitor.
