After the Silence: Inspector Rykel Book 1 (Amsterdam Quartet)
Page 32
He’d found Andreas’ and Karin’s killer, but there was no real satisfaction in that.
Andreas was still dead.
Karin was still dead.
And on top of that the discovery of the photo of Andreas had opened up a whole other avenue of sorrow. He didn’t want to think about how Andreas had lived, carrying that secret around with him for years, eating away at him.
But maybe it hadn’t, maybe he’d got over it, somehow managed to move on.
They were dead and that was it, more victims in a long line of victims, and for the first time he had a feeling for the futility of what he did.
He heard footsteps approaching outside and looked up to see the door open slowly, Smit’s face appearing as the gap widened. He jerked his head towards the corridor before disappearing. Jaap joined him, closing the door quietly as he left.
‘All okay?’ Smit motioned to the door.
Jaap nodded, feeling a distinct lack of interest in Smit’s question.
‘Good.’ Smit coughed, looked down the corridor to where a nurse was fiddling with a saline drip on wheels. ‘I’ve talked to Kees so I know what happened. I’ll be giving a press conference later on this morning.’
Jaap could picture it already, Smit talking about the exoneration of Andreas from the child pornography claims, the swift result in Friedman’s, Zwartberg’s and Haak’s deaths and the busting of a child porn ring at the same time. Add to that the saving of a kidnapped child and Smit had just the kind of results he needed to secure his next career move.
But with De Waart, an Inspector working under him, to have been so heavily implicated with a criminal gang, and then guilty of murdering a fellow officer, that career move wasn’t going to happen.
‘We are going to need further investigation into De Waart’s death though,’ continued Smit. ‘I’m not sure anyone can be sure that he was really involved.’
‘He admitted to me that he was, he told me he was going to kill me like he’d killed Andreas and Karin.’ Jaap was trying to keep his voice down, but the nurse had looked up at them.
Smit took a step closer.
‘Keep your voice down.’ He looked around him before continuing. ‘The thing is, we –’
‘The thing is, you’re trying to cover it up because you don’t want it known that De Waart was bent, on your watch.’
‘Inspector Rykel, I have a duty to the department here. A story like that is not going to help anyone, you know that. We’ll have the press all over us, and I’m not going to allow that to happen. I’ve dropped the charges against you –’
‘Those charges were never going to stick, you know that.’
‘– and I’ve taken off all mention of them from your record. But …’ He leant closer; Jaap could see something white crusted at the side of his mouth. ‘… if this story comes out then I’ll know where it came from. Charges can be reinstated. So think hard before you do anything.’
Smit turned and walked down the corridor.
‘You’re going to say he was killed in the line of duty, aren’t you?’ Jaap called out after him. ‘Make him a hero.’
Smit didn’t stop walking.
‘And what about my sister? And Andreas? You’re happy to leave that listed as unsolved?’
Smit turned back.
‘There’s more than enough evidence that it was Grimberg –’
‘That was De Waart covering his back!’
‘So where’s your proof?’
‘He confessed. To me.’
‘Witnesses?’
Jaap felt like he was burning.
Smit turned the corner, and was gone from sight.
Jaap stood for a moment, before pulling out the photo he had of Andreas as a teenager.
He studied it for a moment, then ripped it into tiny pieces, his hands shaking as he did so, and dropped it into a bin marked ‘Sharps’.
He made his way to Saskia’s room and sat back in the chair.
Maybe Smit was right, exposing De Waart would only make all their jobs harder.
And it would end his own career in the police, but he wasn’t sure he cared.
He could call Niels. He pulled out his phone.
But it wasn’t just him any more.
Saskia had told him just after the birth. That time last spring. She’d lied to him about the timing. The birth wasn’t premature.
Glancing out the window he could see the light revealing a soft world, corners rounded off, the lone tracks of a dog or fox in the park just across the street. Everything looked clean, pristine, a beautiful world for a newborn to enter, and suddenly he wished that he could keep it just as it was, its stillness, its clarity, its sheer peacefulness for ever.
Keep it for his daughter, who’d just mewed softly like a kitten, cocooned in Saskia’s arms.
He rummaged in his pocket, looking for change. Then he pulled out his I Ching, took a deep breath, and started flipping coins.
Acknowledgements
My thanks to Simon Trewin at WME for guiding me with both skill and humour, and to Rowland White at Penguin for the kind of enthusiasm which I’m sure all writers crave – to both of you I am truly grateful. I’d also like to thank Nick Lowndes for his killer eye for detail and calm demean-our in the face of a writer who likes to tinker right up until the last moment.
I was lucky enough to have three people read early drafts of the book, and I received from Benjamin Evans, Gordon Weetman and Kylie Fitzpatrick encouragement and excellent advice. In Amsterdam Feico Deutekom and Marjolein van Doorn offered a warm welcome back to the city I’d spent several years in during the early 2000s, and even if we disagreed on seagulls, their help was invaluable. I still made some stuff up though where it suited the story, and for that I’m entirely responsible.
Thanks also go to both my parents who have always been behind me, giving support regardless of the recklessness of some of my ventures, and my wife Zara who is my first reader, and so much more.
THE BEGINNING
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