After the Silence: Inspector Rykel Book 1 (Amsterdam Quartet)

by Jake Woodhouse

  92

  Friday, 6 January

  12.04

  Smit looked at the bit of paper in his hands.

  ‘I can’t believe it.’

  ‘Neither could I, but it’s there in black and white,’ answered De Waart. ‘And there’s more, look at this.’

  He flipped open his laptop and played a short CCTV clip.

  Smit rose from the chair, closing the laptop which De Waart had placed on his desk, and paced towards the window. He stood there for a few moments, hands behind his back, rocking slightly on his heels before he turned back.

  De Waart waited for an answer.

  93

  Friday, 6 January

  12.12

  Once they’d got him on board the boat, shuddering like he was receiving a steady stream of electric shocks, they knew they had to get him warm, and quickly.

  ‘Knock on doors,’ said Jaap, and Kees was off.

  He started dragging Grimberg towards the shore side of the boat, and then down the gangplank on to the road. Kees emerged from a house and ran over to help.

  Inside, the young woman – an Eastern European maid, he guessed from the accent – gestured to the front room and they got him into the warm and ripped his sodden clothes off. She brought towels, they dried him off, and roughly dressed him in some oversized clothes she brought down from upstairs. Kees found the kitchen and made some hot coffee.

  ‘You shouldn’t give him that yet,’ the maid said, ‘I think it can do damage, too hot.’

  Kees glared for a moment, and left the room, returning with the same cup a few moments later.

  ‘Half filled with cold water, will that be okay, do you think?’

  Grimberg, the shaking subsiding now, sitting on the floor, a thick woollen jacket draped over his shoulders, reached out and took the cup, sipping at it gently.

  ‘Thanks.’ His voice was a croak, his eyes stayed on the ground.

  A car horn sounded in the street.

  ‘Get a paramedic team here. And a car.’

  Kees left to make the call.

  Once he’d gone Jaap sat, not wanting to look at Grimberg.

  ‘You know I did it?’ asked Grimberg finally.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So you know why I did it?’

  ‘I think I –’

  ‘Then you’ll understand, I’ve already served a sentence, for something I didn’t do.’

  ‘Let’s take the whole thing from the beginning.’

  Grimberg shifted slightly, putting his cup down. The colour was returning to his face, and he ran his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead. He looked straight at Jaap, who had to struggle to return the gaze.

  ‘It started when I was thirteen, I was at school and …’ He paused, a slight shudder running through his torso. ‘… that man was our football teacher.’

  ‘Friedman.’

  He nodded; the name still seemed to hold a sway over him.

  ‘He … well, I don’t need to spell it out, do I?’

  Jaap shook his head.

  He knew.

  And he didn’t want to hear it.

  ‘The thing is, he was charismatic, and everyone wanted to be on the team, and I guess he took advantage of that.’

  ‘Were you the only one?’

  ‘I thought so at the time, but clearly I wasn’t.’

  ‘And you didn’t tell anyone?’

  ‘Of course I didn’t. He trapped me, made me think that if I told anyone they wouldn’t believe me. That’s how these people operate. And then he left, two years after it had started, and I thought I was free, thought I could get over it, forget it all. So I went to university and tried to be a normal student, and I kind of succeeded in beating it, you know? The pain gradually went away but it left me with a feeling that I had to do something, if not for myself, then for other kids who’d gone through the same thing. So I went to work at the charity.’

  ‘And then one day Friedman walked in?’

  ‘I couldn’t believe it, the sheer fucking hypocrisy of it. I was sick for three days, I couldn’t keep from throwing up. I guess the damage he’d done to me hadn’t really gone away, I’d just become used to covering it up, hiding it from myself.’

  ‘How come he didn’t recognize you?’

  ‘I was thirteen at the time, I look different now, and the amount of children he abused? Christ, they probably all look the same to him.’

  ‘And your name?’

  ‘I changed it, when I went to university, I thought it would help me escape my past.’ He forced a laugh. ‘New name, new person, right?’

  Grimberg was still shivering, but it was subsiding. Jaap’s muscles felt tight from the pull.

  ‘You were at school with Andreas Hansen?’

  ‘That name rings a bell, I think he was in the year above me?’

  A lie, Jaap was sure, but he’d let it pass, for the moment. In a way he didn’t want to know.

  ‘So you decided to do something about Friedman yourself?’

  ‘I didn’t decide, I had no choice. He hadn’t recognized me, so I was free to do what I wanted.’

  ‘And where does Zwartberg fit into this?’

  ‘I’d only meant to kill Friedman. I thought that by leaving his phone at the scene the police would get the others. And I hung him up because I wanted him to be shamed, even in death.’

  ‘So why did you kill the others?’

  Grimberg swallowed.

  ‘I … it was so easy. Once I’d done it. I thought it would be hard, killing someone. But … afterwards I realized that I had the power to make a change. I could stop these people, all of them. I guess I kind of hoped someone would catch them first, stop me from doing it, but part of me didn’t want that.’

  ‘How did you find out about the others?’

  ‘I’d started to watch Friedman, following him, trying to find the best place to get him, and I saw him with Zwartberg.’

  ‘In De Wallen?’

  ‘Yeah, they’d meet at a place in Bloedstraat. I’d followed Friedman one night, he’d left the house late, walked there. He went inside and I waited down the street, and a few hours later Friedman came out, followed by this other guy. So I hired someone, to do a bit of digging, just to find out who this other guy was.’

  ‘What, like a private investigator?’

  ‘Yeah, I didn’t even know they really existed, but they do. Mainly divorces, I guess.’

  ‘And you weren’t worried that they might be alarmed when the people they were hired to track started getting killed?’

  ‘I never met them, so they didn’t know who I was. They were reluctant at first, but I paid them well. In cash. They insisted on that.’

  ‘So they found Haak as well. Anyone else on your list?’

  ‘There’s one more, he’s the worst one, he controlled the whole thing.’

  ‘Who is he?’

  ‘I don’t know what he’s called, but I know that he’s connected with a gang –’

  ‘The Black Tulips?’

  ‘Yeah, but the people I hired? They got scared, said they were dropping it. And I never heard from them again.’

  ‘Give me their details,’ said Jaap. Grimberg told him and Jaap wrote it down.

  ‘You should have come to us,’ said Jaap.

  ‘I didn’t have a choice, I had to do it.’ His voice rose, roughened with anger. ‘There was Friedman, this predator, ruining people’s lives for his own pleasure. Raping them. Raping them just as he raped me. You’d think there’d be some kind of punishment for that, wouldn’t you?’ He stared at Jaap. ‘But there wasn’t. He inherited a business which gave him enough money to live in this millionaire’s house. Where he could fuck people, fuck kids, for god’s sake. It wasn’t right. It just wasn’t fucking right.’

  ‘And now?’

  Grimberg looked down at his hands, scratching his left forefinger with his thumb. The sound of a chair being scraped across a floor, a faint radio, voices raised in joy or anguish
he couldn’t tell, and his own breathing filling the room. Grimberg’s eyes rose to meet his own.

  ‘If they were here right now, I’d do the same again.’

  Kees walked back in and nodded to Jaap.

  What Grimberg had been through was unforgivable. But his duty was to find murderers and bring them to justice. The role didn’t have room for subtlety, for moral judgements as to cause or effect.

  He motioned to Kees, who unzipped his coat and reached for his cuffs. Kees stepped forward and Grimberg looked at him, then slowly raised his hands. But just as the cuffs were about to slide over his wrists he grabbed Kees’ arm and pulled him forward. Kees lost his balance and fell on top of him with a grunt.

  Before Jaap could react Grimberg had Kees’ gun, slipped from his holster as he’d fallen forwards, and was pointing it right at Kees’ temple.

  Grimberg rose slowly, making sure Kees did the same, all the time keeping the gun jammed into his head. In a split second when Grimberg’s eyes had left Jaap he pulled his own gun out, aimed it right at Grimberg’s head.

  Just as he had years ago in a similar situation.

  And that had not turned out so good.

  ‘I was punished before I’d done anything wrong,’ Grimberg said, his voice stronger now, ‘so now I’ve made up for it. Does the order things happen in really matter?’

  ‘Put the gun down, then we can talk about this.’

  Grimberg glared at him.

  ‘Talk about it? What’s there to talk about?’ He was shouting now; Kees flinched. ‘You don’t give a shit about what happened to me, you don’t give a shit that the people I killed were evil, that they deserved to die!’

  ‘Just put the gun –’

  Grimberg shoved Kees towards Jaap.

  Grimberg’s mouth opened in a silent scream and he rammed the gun between his teeth.

  94

  Friday, 6 January 2012

  12.43

  The windscreen wipers were working hard, squeaking, and the tyres weren’t gripping too well as she pulled up at one of the port entrances, the car sliding forward, despite her low speed. She couldn’t believe Jaap hadn’t told her about the shipping company, and that he hadn’t answered her call once she’d given Bloem the slip. Did he not trust her, was that it? Did he want to rescue Adrijana himself? Or was it because of what had nearly happened last night? He now felt he had to protect her?

  Or am I just being paranoid? she thought.

  As she killed the engine and got out of the car she could see Bloem, cuffed to Haak, bellowing like a stuck cow. There was going to be hell to pay for that. But right now she didn’t care.

  The important thing was Adrijana.

  The only thing was Adrijana.

  95

  Friday, 6 January

  12.49

  The clean-up team had arrived, and Jaap and Kees were stepping out the front door when two uniforms Jaap didn’t recognize appeared in front of them, blocking their way.

  ‘Rykel?

  Jaap and Kees exchanged a glance, the tone of voice out of place.

  ‘Inspector Rykel. Yes?’

  The first uniform held up a pair of cuffs, dangling the loop from a finger.

  ‘You’re under arrest.’

  96

  Friday, 6 January

  13.21

  Is this for real? thought Kees as he heard the news exploding round the station.

  Smit hadn’t seemed that impressed when he’d told him about the call he’d had from Roemers. He’d expected action, congratulations, being put in charge of the case, but all he’d got was a tepid reaction and a curt thank you.

  And yet now he’d had Jaap arrested.

  He knew he’d made a mistake, and then when that fucking priest had looked at him as if he knew exactly what was going on in his head, well … it had sealed it as a bad deal.

  Now he felt sure it would get out that he’d been spying for Smit. And Smit wouldn’t protect him, he couldn’t give less of a toss, he saw that now. He’d been played.

  By that fat fuck of a Station Chief.

  He was finished.

  His relationship with Marinette was over, his career was over, and that would probably mean, just to top everything off, that he and Carice would be over as well.

  He’d fucked up, and he knew it.

  But even if he was finished, there was one thing he wanted to do. Find the woman who, if he’d managed to catch her on the first day, might have been able to stop all of this from happening.

  Because when he thought about it, the whole situation he found himself in could have been avoided had she not run.

  And, well, he wanted some payback, payback for being knocked out yesterday. He turned to leave the building but as he passed the front desk the Sergeant called out to him, waving a phone.

  97

  Friday, 6 January

  13.54

  Tanya had been trying his phone every minute for the last ten, but it kept just going straight to voicemail. Damn. She really needed to talk to him.

  Maybe, she thought, someone at his station knows where he is.

  She called, asked to speak to him, and, after a long pause in which she wondered if the connection had been lost, heard a voice.

  ‘Inspector Terpstra.’

  ‘Hey, Kees, It’s Tanya, I’m trying to get hold of Jaap but he’s not picking up?’

  ‘Yeah, uuh, he’s kind of busy at the moment.’

  ‘Look, can you get him, it’s really important.’

  Another pause.

  ‘I can’t right now.’

  ‘When will he be free?’

  ‘Could be a while, he’s just been arrested.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘I’m … I’m not really sure.’ Tanya knew him well enough to know he was holding something back. She knew Jaap hadn’t wanted Kees to know about what he was up to, but now it looked too late.

  ‘Shit. Is this because he’s been investigating Andreas Hansen’s killing?’

  ‘It could be, I guess.’

  Did Kees already know? she thought. Was it Kees who ratted on Jaap?

  ‘Can you get a message to him, it’s really urgent, I think I’ve found her.’

  98

  Friday, 6 January

  13.55

  Kees put the phone down, his head swimming.

  He was feeling sick, guilt seeping throughout his body. His career was over, the level of mistrust from his colleagues once they learnt of his deception would make his life hell.

  At least, he thought to himself, Judas got paid some silver. All I got were vague promises about my career.

  But he owed Jaap now, or at least he felt he did, and went back upstairs, cursing himself for his stupidity.

  The atmosphere in the office was tense, the news that Jaap was being held in one of the holding cells had ricocheted round the office like a wrecking ball, and nobody quite knew what to do. Some were openly questioning why he’d been arrested, others were more circumspect, not wanting to get involved in case it was serious.

  Which, the general consensus said, it had to be as none of them had ever seen a colleague of theirs, one of them, being treated like a common criminal.

  And of course Kees got the brunt of the questions, and each time he had to say he didn’t know any more than they did, it had felt like he was nailing himself to a cross, knowing that his denials would be remembered when the truth came out.

  He had to talk to Jaap, give him Tanya’s message. And whilst he was there, he might as well come clean. It probably wouldn’t help, his career in the police would be finished now anyway, but it was, he saw, the right thing to do. Face up to it, to his mistake.

  His mouth felt dry.

  99

  Friday, 6 January

  14.09

  Jaap had been in this very cell so many times over the last few years that he couldn’t even begin to count. Faces, crimes, interviews, some clear, others blurring together, joined only by the seam of their stupid repet
itiveness.

  But he could remember them in broad terms, because there were distinct categories of reaction, those who broke down almost straight away, the ones who thought that cockiness would see them through, finger-pointers who blamed everyone but themselves, those who raged, against the police, their lawyers, their victims, fate itself.

  But the category who had always spooked Jaap were the clams, the ones who just sat there, immutable, immobile, resolute in their refusal to engage with any of the tactics, empathy, shouting, bargaining.

  That’s what I should do, he thought as the door opened and De Waart stepped in, his face grave. Jaap thought he could glimpse something underneath it though, triumph maybe.

  ‘It’s a sad day for all of us, Jaap.’

  ‘What the fuck am I here for?’

  ‘Didn’t they tell you when they arrested you? Maybe you can get off on a technicality.’

  ‘They said evidence suppression, but that doesn’t mean anything to me. This is just about you, isn’t it?’

  De Waart shook his head, a teacher disappointed by his protégé.

  ‘It’s about the law, Jaap. It’s about following orders, it’s about not doing anything so stupid as tamper with evidence from a case which belongs to another Inspector.’

  Jaap stared at him, trying not to show the realization which was starting to form in his head.

  ‘Because when you played with Andreas’ phone at the morgue – we have the CCTV tape by the way – you were fucking with my investigation.’

  ‘This is bullshit.’

  ‘No, I’ll tell you what’s bullshit. What’s bullshit is that you’ve just chucked away your career, and you did it by fucking with me. I’m checking with the phone company, see what it was you deleted. But it’s kind of irrelevant anyway. We’ll drop the charge of evidence suppression. You want to know why?’