Assignment in Amsterdam

by Carrie Bedford

  “All right,” he said eventually.

  I was amazed. I hadn't expected him to agree so easily. “You’ll go home? Today?”

  “No. I meant all right, I accept your story about your… gift. But I can’t leave yet.”

  Agh. “Why not? Sam, your life is in danger.”

  “Look, Kate, if I walk out now, it’ll wreck my consulting business. I won’t get paid by TBA and word will get around that I abandoned them in mid-project. And I'm not just thinking of myself. My sister and grandmother depend on my salary too. You know that.” He held up a hand to stop me from interrupting. “It’s my job to see this project through and that’s what I intend to do.”

  “But, Sam, there’s something threatening you. You could die.”

  “I understand that.” He picked up a tea towel from the counter and played with the corner of it, rolling the fabric into an ever tighter coil. “But bad things do happen to people. My parents were warm and wonderful, doing everything they could to look after Sarah and me. They played by all the rules to make sure we were secure and protected. They held our hands when we were out walking, put antiseptic on our cuts, and childproofed our rooms. But they couldn’t foresee the tree that fell in the storm that night. They died. Sarah nearly did. I didn’t even have a bruise. Trying to predict every danger is impossible, Kate. I tried that after my parents died. I was afraid of everybody and everything. I could hardly walk out of the house. But I got over it, little by little. And now I refuse to let fear rule my decisions.”

  I leaned back in my chair, one hand over my eyes. I knew all too well how Sam felt. That the world was a terrifying place, full of threats and risks. Made all the worse for me by these auras, these shimmering reminders of our mortality.

  I rubbed the tears from my eyes and sat upright, angry that I was feeling sorry for myself. I had so much to be happy for. Dwelling on the negatives did no one any good at all.

  “I have this ability for a reason, Sam. And right now, that reason is to save you. That is what I intend to do. You can stay, if you insist, and finish up the project. But we need to work fast and wrap it up early. And I’ll be at your elbow until it’s over. Understood?”

  “Okay.” He folded the towel and put it on the counter before coming back to sit down again. With his hands clasped on the table in front of him, he bowed his head for a moment. When he looked up, his eyes were clear and untroubled. “You said that Henk and Eline Janssen have auras too?”

  I nodded. “More to the point, Tessa had one. And, Sam, she’s dead.”

  Sam’s head jerked back, and his eyes widened.”

  “Yes,” I went on. “Now that was an accident and almost certainly not related to whatever it is that threatens you. But it’s a big coincidence that you, Henk and Eline are in danger.”

  I rubbed my temples with my fingers. A headache was building. “We need to find out what the common thread is between you three. I don’t believe much in coincidences, so I’m sure the same danger threatens you all. Or, honestly, maybe just you and Eline. Henk is old. His might be different. Anyway, we need to work out why you and Eline are at risk.”

  “Without disrupting the project timeline.”

  “Right. We can keep working and I promise I will do my best, if only to get this damned project over and done with. But my primary goal is to uncover the source of the threat.”

  “What threat?” I heard Alex’s voice and swung around to see her standing in the doorway, a bag in her hand.

  Sam gestured her over. “Come and sit down. Kate has something to tell you.”

  I hadn’t intended to tell Alex about the auras, but there was no getting around it now. So, once again, I described my strange ability.

  When I stopped talking, Alex leaned back in her chair and looked from Sam to me and back again. “You believe this… stuff about auras?” she asked him.

  “I trust Kate.” Sam shrugged.

  “But it’s bonkers,” she said, keeping her eyes on him, avoiding looking at me. I shifted on my chair. This was the reaction I was used to seeing when I opened up about my gift. Disbelief and a sudden reassessment of me, from normal working professional to crazy woman. But I needed Alex on my side. If Sam insisted on staying, I could use her help in watching out for him.

  “Alex,” I said. “I know it sounds like the ravings of a lunatic, but I’m telling the truth. I’ve had several years of experience with this now. I’ve seen people die. Tessa had an aura and she’s dead. But I’ve helped save others. There was a child who didn’t drown, a boy who survived a medical emergency.” I cast around for a convincing example. “Remember the assassination attempt on Simon Scott just before he took office?”

  Alex’s eyes widened. “You were there for that?” she asked. “You saved him? Our Prime Minister?”

  I nodded, aware of the shock on Sam’s face.

  “Bloody hell,” Alex responded. “I’m not sure I understand any of this, but I like you, Kate. Besides, life is so much more interesting when it’s weird, so I’ll go along with it for now.” She stared at the space over Sam’s head. “I can’t see anything though.”

  “No, but I promise you it’s there. And before you ask, no, you don’t have one. Neither does Moresby.”

  “Ha, can’t say it’d bother me if Moresby did.” She smirked. “He’s such a pain.”

  Her grin faded as she leaned over and grabbed hold of Sam’s hand. “We’ll look after you,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

  “I don’t need looking after,” Sam said. “But I appreciate the thought.”

  Alex sat back in her chair. “So, the house has to be the source of the danger, right?”

  “That’s what I think,” I said.

  “These odd incidents, like the painting and the chandelier falling, are more than just accidents then.” Alex tapped a well-manicured finger against her cheek. “But if someone is trying to actually hurt or kill Eline and Sam…” She stopped and patted Sam’s arm. “Sorry. That sounds so cold. But if that’s the intent, why mess about with pranks that have a really small chance of actually causing harm?”

  “I think they were intended to frighten us off, to make TBA cancel the purchase,” I said.

  “That seems a bit far-fetched.” Alex looked dubious.

  “Maybe. But if it’s true, then the question is who? Who’s trying to stop the sale from happening, and why?” A deep frown creased Sam’s brow. “What would be the motive? Who stands to gain if the house remains unsold?”

  The list of suspects had to be short, consisting only of people who had access to the house. Henk, of course, but he had an aura too. I was suspicious of Moresby but that was mostly because he was such a cold fish and I didn’t like him. Right now, I couldn’t understand the link between the strange stuff happening in the house and the danger to Sam or Eline and Henk. If there even was a link.

  “Could it be Pieter?” Sam asked. “Not for the pranks, obviously, but perhaps he doesn’t really want to sell the house.”

  Alex stood up. “I think better when I have a cup of tea in my hand. Anyone else?”

  Sam and I both nodded, and she filled the kettle with water exactly to the three-cup line. I always filled the kettle to the top, even if I was only making tea for one.

  “But he’s going to inherit a huge chunk of money from the proceeds of the sale,” Sam said. “He could buy a luxury apartment anywhere in Amsterdam if he wanted to.”

  “I think we should ask Eline,” I said. “She knows Pieter, for one thing, and she may be aware of other people who have, or have had, an interest in the building. Maybe someone else put in an offer, but TBA offered more.”

  Sam shook his head. “There were no other bids. But it’s worth talking to her.” He paused and then looked at me. “Will you tell her about the aura and warn her that she’s in danger?”

  My stomach did a flip. I hated telling people about auras and I’d just been through the wringer with Sam and Alex. It wasn’t easy to announce imminent death to anyone,
friend or stranger. But I had a responsibility.

  “Yes,” I replied. “I’ll tell her. She needs to be aware, to take extra precautions about her safety. Next time she comes over, I’ll do it.”

  “You should phone her now,” Sam said. “She gave us her mobile number.”

  8

  While Alex finished setting out our sandwiches, I trudged into the living room, reluctant to make the call to Eline. It was something I’d rather put off. The phone rang and rang, but she didn’t answer, and finally it clicked to voicemail. Although I didn’t understand the Dutch greeting, I left a message anyway, asking her to call me back as soon as possible.

  Relieved to have avoided the conversation, at least for now, but also feeling guilty about my relief, I returned to the kitchen where Sam was scrawling notes on a piece of paper. When he’d finished, he pushed it across the table to show Alex and me.

  “This is what we have to get done to finish the feasibility review by Friday. I think it’s doable, right?”

  I quickly reviewed the list. It looked good to me.

  “Definitely, let’s get on with it,” Alex said.

  I agreed. Speed was the solution. The sooner we were done, the sooner Sam would be back in London, where I hoped he would be safe. It bothered me that I couldn’t know that for sure, but I suspected it was a better bet than staying where he was.

  “I see you have a sledgehammer on the list?” I asked. “Does that mean we are going to break into the paneling on the top floor?”

  “We have to if we’re to complete the project,” Sam said. “We need to know what’s behind that wall and get it drawn up.”

  “Can’t we just assume it’s a utility corridor, the same as on the blue floor?” Alex asked. “I’d take a bet it has the same dimensions and is full of old pipes and cables.”

  “Maybe, but I’d rather be sure,” Sam said. “We don’t want any nasty surprises further along. The contractor will bring the hammer over tomorrow morning.”

  “Great.” I flexed a bicep. “I can’t wait to see what we find up there.”

  Fueled by our late lunch, we worked hard for the rest of the afternoon. Alex was doing complicated math on her laptop, Sam was typing furiously, and I used my architecture app to work on my layouts. They would be in good shape by the deadline.

  Just after five, Sam lifted his head. “Weird,” he said. “The house feels really quiet. It’s strange.”

  Alex raised her eyebrows. “It’s always quiet. It’s ninety-five percent empty.”

  I focused on listening for a few moments. It wasn’t actually quiet. The huge built-in refrigerator hummed, and our keyboards were clacking. Yet I understood what Sam meant. There was a sense of dead air, the same lack of sound I experienced when I worked late at the office after everyone else had gone. But the three of us had been here alone for hours. There had been no mass exodus of people to account for the hush that had fallen over the house.

  “It must be that the streets are emptying out,” I said.

  “We can’t hear any noise from the road.” Alex pointed at the triple-paned windows along the kitchen wall. She shrugged and went back to staring at her figure-filled screen.

  Sam looked at me for a second and then gave a rueful grin. “This place is getting to me,” he said. He pointed at my laptop. “Onward then.”

  I gave him a mock salute. “Yes, sir.”

  A couple of minutes later, Vincent padded in and coiled around Sam’s ankles. Still typing with one hand, Sam reached with the other to pet the tabby. The cat’s loud purr drowned out the warble of the refrigerator. I found Vincent’s presence comforting, a little domestic normality in the vast strange house.

  Still, by some sort of tacit agreement, when Alex said she had to do more analysis upstairs, Sam and I went with her to the blue floor. We were getting in the habit of sticking together. Sam’s contractor had delivered portable lamps earlier, which helped us to work in the fading light. Their brilliance faded the blue of the walls of the bedrooms and bathrooms to dull grey. Alex worked fast, taking the measurements for a beam that would support a wall where we would be cutting a door through to make a large conference room. We were soon back in the welcome glow of the kitchen. Then she remembered something else, and we all trooped back upstairs and down again. Every transition from the ancient part of the building to the modern apartment was a temporal shift, moving from an indistinct past to a concrete present, a jolt that took a few seconds to come to terms with.

  We’d just sat down for the third time when my mobile rang. It was Eline.

  “You called me?” she asked.

  “Yes.” I struggled with what to say next. I couldn’t do this by phone, I decided. “I wanted to see if you’d like to join us for a drink?”

  Once we were there, I’d find a way to grab some time alone with her.

  “That would be lovely,” she answered. “I’m busy now, so maybe later.”

  “Do you know a place that’s not too loud? Last night we were in a bar where we couldn’t hear a word, it was so noisy.”

  Eline laughed. “There are plenty of those. Where are you staying? We can find somewhere close to your hotel perhaps.”

  When I told her, she gave me the name of a wine bar close by and we agreed to meet there at eight.

  I explained the plan to Alex and Sam. “I’ll just need to have a few minutes alone with Eline,” I said. “To explain that she’s in danger."

  “Wouldn’t it be better if we stay with you while you talk to her?” Alex asked. “If we tell her we believe you, she’s more likely to as well.”

  “Thank you,” I agreed, glad to have their support. I didn’t know how Eline would react. I’d often been surprised by people’s reaction when I told them I could see their fate.

  At eight, the three of us arrived at the wine bar. I liked Eline’s choice of venue. Plushly-upholstered benches and chairs were grouped around black coffee tables glowing with tea lights in glass jars. Soft uplights illuminated a vaulted brick ceiling, and jazz played quietly in the background. The other patrons were mostly young people in business clothes. Hardly a tourist in sight.

  We decided to wait for Eline before ordering but, by eight fifteen, she hadn’t arrived, and I fidgeted nervously next to Alex. The more this dragged out, the harder I was finding it to envisage telling Eline about my strange gift. I hated talking about portents of death, especially with Sam’s aura rotating over his head as a stark reminder that he was still in grave danger. Time was passing, and I had no idea what it was that threatened him.

  At eight twenty, Sam went to the bar to get our drinks while I phoned Eline’s mobile. The call went straight to voicemail. “Hi Eline,” I said. “We’re here at the wine bar. I want to be sure we’re in the right place. See you soon.”

  Sam had set down our drinks by the time I rang off. After another ten minutes, Alex stood up. “I’ll get more peanuts. Dinner’s going to be late.”

  While she was engaged in an animated conversation with the barman, I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

  Sam grabbed my hand. “Relax. We’ll all do this together. And if Eline doesn’t believe you, well, then you’ve done your best.”

  Alex returned with peanuts and olives and set them down on the table. She and Sam soon finished them off. Every time the door opened, I looked up to see if Eline had arrived. By nine, she still hadn’t.

  “I’m worried,” I said. “Why set a time to meet and then not come? She could have just said no on the phone.”

  “We could call the lawyer,” Alex said. “Maybe Eline and Pieter are still with him. They had a meeting set for early evening, remember? Pieter told us. Or maybe it’s over, but Bleeker might have another contact number for her.”

  “A bit weird, don’t you think?” Sam ran his hand through his hair, leaving tufts standing upright. “Us calling Bleeker out of hours? He’s probably not allowed to share personal information about a client anyway.”

  “That’s true,
" Alex said. "Should we go to the police and tell them Eline is missing?”

  Sam and I looked at each other.

  “We have to do something,” I said.

  “The trouble is, we wouldn’t be worried if it weren’t for the aura,” Sam said slowly. “We’d just think she got held up or that we got the time wrong, or that she changed her mind about coming.”

  “Which is what the police will think too,” I said. “If everyone reported a friend who forgot a drinks date or who turned up late, the police stations would be overwhelmed.”

  I’d had a handful of embarrassing and painful interactions with police officers in the past few years, trying to convince them that someone was about to die without being able to explain how I knew.

  “Let’s give it another fifteen minutes,” Alex said. “And then we should go eat. I’m starving.”

  We waited mostly in silence. My stomach was in knots. I’d been nervous all evening about telling Eline she had an aura and what that signified. Now, dread had wound a rope around my chest, and I found it hard to breathe. What if it were too late? Was it possible that she was already dead?

  “It’s okay,” Sam said, patting my hand. “There are a dozen good reasons why Eline hasn’t shown up.”

  We were putting on our coats when my phone beeped. I snatched it from my pocket. It was a phone call from Eline.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Something came up.”

  “I really want to talk to you,” I said. “It’s important.”

  “I’ll see you at the house tomorrow morning then. Sorry for standing you up.”

  With a click, she was gone.

  The anxiety I’d been feeling drained away, leaving my skin cold and my knees wobbly. “She’s okay,” I told the others. “But she’s not coming.”

  “It was a bit rude of her to not let us know earlier,” Alex said. “Still, I’m glad you heard from her. And now I’m about to pass out from lack of sustenance. Let’s go.”