Outside, we paused while Alex checked an address on her mobile. She’d been researching likely restaurants earlier in the evening. “Follow me,” she said.
As expected, Alex had chosen a good place to eat. Sam devoured a plate loaded with fresh fish and vegetables while Alex opted for meatballs. I wasn’t hungry. I picked my way through a salad and sipped a half glass of white wine, my stomach churning every time I looked at Sam. His aura was clearly visible even in the dim restaurant lighting.
By the time dinner was over, I was feeling exhausted, ready for an early night. We started back towards Sam’s hotel and had been walking for a minute or two when I got a strange feeling, a prickling on the back of my neck. I turned and saw a man about twenty meters behind us. He was wearing a dark jacket with the hood pulled up.
I stopped. “Give me a minute,” I said to the others. Without pausing to think, I took a few steps towards the man, who continued walking in my direction. “Are you following us?” I called when he was several meters away. He looked around as if verifying it was him I was yelling at and then carried on walking. “You,” I said. “Why are you following us?”
I felt a hand on my arm and glanced over to see Sam, his face creased with worry. “What are you doing?” His voice came out in a loud whisper.
The guy with the hoodie hurried past, casting nervous looks at us.
“I thought he was watching us. I’ve seen him before. At the bar last night and then on the street near the house today.” My heart was pounding.
Sam took my hand and nodded at Alex. We started to walk again, me sandwiched in between them.
“Bit of an overreaction there,” Alex said, winding her arm through mine and smiling to soften her critique.
“I’m sorry.” I felt my heart rate settling back to normal. “I don’t usually confront strange men on the streets. I was just... I’m worried about Sam, obviously, and Eline, and the stuff going on in the house.”
Alex squeezed my arm tighter. “Look on the bright side. Nothing strange has happened since ten o’clock this morning. We’ve had twelve hours of peace and quiet. And Eline is fine, so try to stop worrying. Maybe once the feasibility study is complete and we get out of here, the auras will disappear. At the very least, you get to go back to London on Friday, days earlier than we expected. But for now, I say we enjoy ourselves. What’s the point of being in Amsterdam if we don’t sample the night life?”
“Really?”
“Really. A friend of mine told me about this bar where they do amazing cocktails. And dancing. My treat. You up for it, Sam?”
He grinned. “Why not?”
I let myself be dragged along, channeling Alex’s energy. She seemed to bring out the social side of Sam too.
We crossed an arched bridge where we stopped to admire the moon’s reflection on the water and the houseboats moored along the canal walls. When I looked up to make sure the others were enjoying the idyllic scene, I noticed that they were touching hands, their fingers entwined. I turned away quickly to hide the smile on my face. I was happy for Sam. And I knew I could rely on Alex to help me protect him.
9
I ate breakfast alone in the hotel dining room on Wednesday morning. At about midnight, I’d decided to leave Sam and Alex to enjoy each other’s company and had taken a taxi back to the hotel. Sam had said he would set an alarm for eight thirty. Although I’d planned to sleep in too, I’d woken at dawn after another restless night.
Sipping coffee, I overheard a couple speaking English at the table next to me. The woman looked upset as her partner patted her hand. He caught my eye, and I looked away, embarrassed to be caught watching them. But that didn’t seem to have bothered him.
“We had a shock this morning,” he told me. “Me and the wife found a body in a canal just around the corner from here. We always walk before breakfast.” He patted his ample stomach. “Trying to lose some weight.”
“I’m sorry. That must have been distressing.”
The mention of a body made my heart gallop. I grabbed my phone and texted Sam, telling him to text me back.
“Do you know who it was?” I asked.
“Nah. It was hard to see much. The police came and took all our details…”
A muffled sob from his wife distracted him. He resumed the hand-patting and then carried on talking to me. “Nice chaps. They told us that they lose a dozen tourists or so every year, usually blokes that’ve had too much to drink. Often, when they stand on the edge to relieve themselves—”
“Kevin!” His wife’s cheeks turned pink. “It’s not polite to say that.”
Kevin chuckled. “Well, anyway, sometimes they fall in. Most of the time, the police chaps said, they are hauled out before any damage is done, but if it’s late at night and they’re alone, it’s very dangerous.”
For some reason, this caused another storm of sobs from Kevin’s wife.
I glanced at my mobile where it lay on the table next to my plate. Still no text from Sam, but it was only eight. He probably wasn’t awake yet. I sent him another text, though. “Call me.”
Kevin pushed his chair back and helped his wife to her feet. “Let’s go back to our room, dear. Can’t disturb everyone’s breakfast.” He looked over at me. “I’m so sorry.”
They hurried away before I could answer.
It struck me that Kevin hadn’t said if the body was a male or a female. And, really, what were the chances that it would be Sam? My attempts to calm myself didn’t work very well. When I got to my feet, my legs were as wobbly as if my bones had dissolved. I gripped the edge of the table while I concentrated on regaining my balance and then dashed towards the lift, berating myself the whole time. I shouldn’t have left Sam with Alex last night. It was totally negligent on my part. I was the only one who really understood how significant the appearance of an aura was. For others, it was easy enough to disbelieve, to ignore something you couldn’t see. I was waiting for the lift when my phone pinged.
It was a text from Sam. “Good morning!”
I leaned against the wall, taking a couple of deep breaths to chase away the lump that had formed in my chest. A few moments later, the lift arrived, and Sam stepped out. The relief that he hadn’t drowned in a canal made me almost giddy— until I realized that the air over his head was moving rapidly, far more quickly than the day before. That was not good.
“Everything all right?” he asked.
“More or less. Do you want breakfast?”
“Silly question. Of course I do.”
We walked back to the dining room, where Sam loaded a plate with scrambled eggs, ham, cheese and olives. He grabbed several bread rolls, and we ordered more coffee. Once we were seated, I told him about the couple who’d found a body. “It was close to the hotel.”
“And you thought it was me,” he said, spreading butter on a roll.
“I did, for a few minutes.”
“I wish you wouldn’t worry. I’m going to be fine.”
“You don’t know that. And the evidence says otherwise.” I raised my eyes to look at the aura that swirled wildly over his unkempt brown hair. “You need to take this seriously, Sam. It’s not a joke. People with auras have died. I’ve seen them.”
He changed the subject. “We’ve got a lot to do today.”
“I know. I think…” I yawned before I could finish my sentence. That got Sam yawning too. “I can’t do late nights anymore,” he said. “Although it was good fun at the time.”
“Did you stay out dancing all night?” I grinned at him, glad that he and Alex seemed to be hitting it off.
“Not all night. Although I feel as though I did.” He finished eating and stood up to put on his coat. “Let’s go. We may as well get started.”
Outside, it was cold. I slipped my arm through his, and we walked to the Janssen house mostly in silence. There was no sign of the sun today. The sky was ashen, the canal we’d just crossed was the color of slate and, when we reached the house, its stone walls were grey
and drab. I felt my energy drain away just looking at it. Still, I squeezed Sam’s arm and hurried him up the steps to the front door.
We found Henk in the kitchen sitting at the table, cradling a cup in his hands. In response to my good-morning greeting, he nodded back but didn’t say anything. That was fine with me as I wouldn’t have understood him anyway. Breathing in the enticing aroma of coffee, I headed for the espresso machine.
I’d just handed a cup to Sam when Alex bounded into the kitchen.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said. Unlike me and Sam, Alex looked as though she’d had a solid eight hours. Her skin glowed and her eyes were bright. “But my excuse for being late is that I bumped into an old friend of my mother’s. I mean, literally. I was dashing for a bus and ran straight into him. Once he’d caught his breath, we recognized each other and went to grab a cup of coffee. My treat, considering that I’d knocked him over. Anyway, that’s why I’m late, sorry.”
She grinned but her smile faded when she noticed Henk camped at the kitchen table.
“We’ll work in the dining room,” Sam said, heading in that direction.
“Does your friend know anything about this place?” I asked Alex.
“Actually, he does.” Alex closed the dining room door. “Don’t want that strange old coot listening in.”
“Henk? He doesn’t even speak English.”
“No, but he might overhear names. Anyway, Willem, this friend of my mum’s, works here in Amsterdam as a financial advisor for one of the big banks. Because of his job, he mixes with the city’s more affluent crowd and he met Tomas Janssen fairly often. He says Janssen was a strange guy, very rich, but quite discreet about it. No one really knew where he made his money.”
“Does Willem know Eline?” I asked Alex.
She nodded, setting her blond ponytail bouncing. “He’s met her quite a few times at galas and fundraisers, that sort of thing. I got the impression he likes her rather more than he liked Tomas. Not that Tomas was a bad person or anything.”
“What about the house? Does he know much about it?”
“Well, I told him about the strange things that have been happening here, but he seemed more amused than concerned, to be honest. Anyway, I’m going to have dinner with him tonight and he’ll tell me more.” She turned to me. “What about Eline? Have you heard from her since last night?”
“No,” I said, “but I wasn’t expecting to. Remember, she said she’s coming over this morning.”
“The contractor is coming soon too,” Sam said. “With the sledgehammer. He and I can take down a panel on the top floor.”
“You’ll just find another service corridor like the one on the blue floor,” Alex said. “I’ve already drawn that space up on the plans anyway.”
“Well, at least if we look, we can sign off the plans as accurate.” I got to my feet. “Oh, and I researched Friday’s flights this morning, Sam. We could fly to London together on the 2.10 if you think we’ll be all done by then?”
“Sounds good to me,” he said.
“What about you, Alex? Will you be heading back to London too?” I asked.
“Not yet. I’ve been staying with my aunt this week and she wants to take me on a trip to Bruges. I’ve never been. So, we’ll do that over the weekend, and I’ll fly back on Sunday. I’m really excited to see the Memling Museum. Well, that and the beer.”
Her smile faded when she looked at Sam. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bang on about touristy stuff. I know you have more serious things on your mind.”
“No worries,” he said. “I want to go to Bruges one day too.”
“Then we’ll all come back and do that together,” I said. “Put it on your calendars for the summer.”
I’d just picked up my notebook when I heard a faint ping as the lift came up from the ground floor.
Sam looked up with a smile. “Oh good, that will be the chap with the sledgehammer.”
It wasn’t. It was Moresby. He threw the dining room door open and burst in, sweat beading his brow, his breath coming in short bursts.
“Did you hear? Eline Janssen is dead.”
10
Moresby pulled out a chair and perched on the edge of it. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “I got a phone call from the lawyer, what’s his name, Bleeker. He said he’d just heard the news.”
“Oh, poor Eline.” Alex sat back down with tears brimming in her blue eyes. Her usually rosy cheeks were pallid. My knees were wobbling again, and I lowered myself into my chair. I didn’t dare look at Sam yet.
“Do they know what happened?” Alex asked.
I braced, already guessing what Moresby would say.
“She fell into a canal and drowned.”
“When?” I asked.
“I don’t have any details. Bleeker sounded very upset and said he’d ring me back when he knew more.”
“Was it an accident?”
Moresby’s eyes widened. “I’d assume so. Why would you think otherwise?”
I shrugged. There was no reason to get into a long discussion with Moresby until we had more information.
When I glanced at Sam, I saw that his face was ashen. Eline’s death had probably finally squashed his doubts about the significance of auras.
“My main concern,” Moresby went on, straightening that ramrod spine of his. “Is that we waste no time in finalizing the study and getting my Board to sign off on it. The nephew has been willing to sell all along, and I assume he won’t change his mind now.”
I had briefly entertained the thought that Moresby was distressed because someone had died, but obviously that wasn’t the case. He was merely upset at the prospect of a delay with the project.
“It would be naive to think that this won’t throw a spanner in the works,” Sam said. “God knows how long it will take to iron out all the paperwork.” He walked to the window and stared outside.
I knew what I had to do. Get Sam back to London, away from the house. There was no real evidence that Eline’s death was in any way linked to the threat to Sam, but I wasn’t taking any more chances. If the project was canceled, Alan would have to suck it up, although he’d probably whine about it for months to come.
Moresby’s mobile pinged. He read the message and told us that the lawyer was on his way over. “Let’s find out more from Bleeker before we panic,” he said, tapping his fingers on the table.
“I think we should plan to give up on this project,” I said.
Moresby shot to his feet and leaned over me. “And why would we do that?”
“Well, for one thing, because the seller just died.”
Moresby turned away and began pacing the length of the room. Sam stayed at the window, staring out at the grey sky. Alex had cradled her head on her arms on the table, the way we used to take naps in nursery school. I doubted she was sleeping though.
When the front doorbell chimed, I scrambled to my feet, just to have something to do. “I’ll get it,” I said.
In the living room, I lifted the phone that connected to the entry door. A deep voice growled at me. “Sam there? I got the hammer.”
“I’ll buzz you in.”
While I waited for the lift to come up, I stared at the painting of Adam and Eve, which Henk had put back up. Then I turned in a slow circle, looking at the dizzying array of gilt-framed art, the antique furniture, the delicate pieces of china on the ornate tables. Who knew what Eline had planned to do with it all? Would everything now go to Pieter? He was about to inherit the entire building, worth a huge amount of money.
I was contemplating that when the lift doors opened, and the contractor stepped into the room. As promised, he was carrying a massive sledgehammer, its iron head already dinged and dented from a previous wrecking activity.
“We’ve got a problem, so you’ll have to hold off for a while,” I told him. “Just leave the hammer in the kitchen.”
“I don’t have all day. Got another appointment this afternoon,” he grumbled. “But call me wh
en you need me then.”
I hurried back to the dining room to find Sam, Moresby and Alex all on their phones. I thought about calling Alan, but decided it was too soon. We needed to talk to Bleeker first to get some kind of insight into what would happen next.
Almost thirty minutes passed before he arrived. He was dressed in a navy cashmere suit with a pristine white shirt and maroon tie, but his well-cut hair was sticking up in places and his face was drawn. His cheeks were flushed as though he’d been running. I remembered Eline saying that he had been a source of strength and support for her when Tomas died. It must have been a shock for him to lose two of his clients in such a short space of time.
We all settled in chairs around the big dining table and waited for Bleeker to speak.
“I’m sorry to confirm that Eline Janssen died last night,” he said.
“When did it happen?” I asked.
“They say she drowned in the early hours of the morning. Her body was spotted in the water by some tourists, apparently. They alerted a street-sweeping crew who called the police.”
Kevin and his wife.
I thought back to my brief phone call with Eline. That had been at nine p.m. Something had happened before that to stop her from coming to meet us as planned. But what? And where had she been after that call?
“How did she end up in a canal?”
“I don’t know. Her friend called me, but she was too upset to say much. A terrible accident apparently.”
A heavy silence filled the room. I shivered, imagining the weight of all that cold water over my head. Had Eline struggled to reach the surface after she’d fallen in? Or was it suicide? She’d been so upset about Tomas’s death that it had to be a possibility. In that case, was it only a coincidence that she and Sam both had auras? Maybe they really were completely unconnected. Or perhaps the danger all along had been that Eline’s death would cancel the project and Sam would return home earlier than planned. If the risk to him lay in London, I had no idea what to do.
I didn’t realize I’d groaned out loud until Alex put her hand over mine. “Are you all right?” she asked.
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