Vledder parked the VW around the corner from the station house. Bedraggled, feeling used, the two exited the car. They walked toward the stationhouse by means of Old Bridge Alley.
As they entered the lobby, Kuster, the watch commander, beckoned. They approached him slowly.
“Now what?” asked Vledder.
“There’s a dog and pony show upstairs,” said Kuster.
“What are you talking about?” asked DeKok.
Kuster raised four fingers in the air.
“Mr. Bavel, his fat cat lawyer, the judge-advocate, and our commissaris are conferring.”
DeKok closed his eyes and shook his head as if to clear it.
“Why?”
Kuster leaned forward conspiratorially.
“There’s been a disappearance—Ramon Bavel.”
12
Vledder reacted first.
“You think Waardenburg talked?”
DeKok sighed deeply.
“Looks like it.”
Vledder stopped breathing for a moment. The end of his career and life as he knew it swirled in his brain. He pointed to the ceiling.
“The reception committee is especially for me?”
DeKok nodded slowly.
“That’s one way of putting it. Sounds more like a tribunal.”
Slowly he rubbed the bridge of his nose with a little finger. Then he held the finger up in the air and stared at it, as if he had never seen it before. Then he turned toward Vledder.
“You check into the hospital,” he said slowly. “You must be examined, especially your back and stomach. You undoubtedly need x-rays of your spine. You can never be too careful with those things. If they don’t keep you there for observation, go home and right to bed. I don’t want to see you until tomorrow.”
Vledder gave his colleague a long, searching look.
“You’re trying to get rid of me.”
DeKok smiled.
“I know better than that.” He put a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “I’m sincere—it would be best to have yourself checked out. That was quite a crash.” A boyish grin lit up his face. “The only luck you’ve had today is no luck at all. Don’t make me sorry we came back here, rather than going straight to the hospital.” He turned to Kuster. “Could you provide my partner transport?” Kuster nodded and pushed a switch on his desk. DeKok turned and climbed the stairs. With mixed feelings, Vledder watched him go.
Inspector DeKok knocked on the door, immediately opened it, and entered the room. The conversation came to a screeching halt. It took a moment for the occupants to recover.
Then Mr. Schaap allowed a condescending nod of the head. Buitendam, the commissaris, was particularly angry. As he approached DeKok, he gestured toward the corner of the large office, where two men sat in easy chairs.
“This is Mr. Bavel,” he said in a condescending voice, “and,” pointing at the second man, “this is his legal counsel, Gerard Van Mechelen, Esquire.”
DeKok made a formal bow with a courtliness that harkened to the previous century. Meanwhile he tried to place the visitors. Bavel’s lawyer had a familiar face. In fact Van Mechelen had demolished DeKok’s investigation in a murder case. DeKok had just been transferred to homicide. It was his first, and only, defeat. DeKok remembered the man and his method. The attack had been raw and below the belt, but delivered in a manner DeKok had not been able to counter. The prosecutor was incompetent, which hadn’t helped. DeKok developed a wariness from the defeat, always over-preparing for court appearances.
Mr. Bavel was the most sympathetic character in the room. He was a tall, slender man with a sharply delineated face and a touch of gray at the temples. He was expensively dressed in a custom tailored, dark-blue suit. A pure white shirt and pearl-gray necktie completed the ensemble. DeKok estimated Bavel was in his early fifties.
Commissaris Buitendam coughed discreetly.
“These gentlemen,” he said pointing at Bavel and his lawyer, “have approached Mr. Schaap, because they are worried. They have asked for an explanation.”
DeKok pretended surprise.
“What is it that requires an explanation?”
“Ramon, Mr. Bavel’s son, has disappeared.”
“I am sorry to hear this. How long has he been missing?”
Mr. Van Mechelen took over the conversation.
“This afternoon. Mr. Bavel had a luncheon appointment with his son at one o’clock this afternoon in the Sonesta Hotel. Mr. Bavel intended to introduce Ramon to some associates. Ramon will be assuming a position in the Mr. Bavel’s firm. But Ramon did not appear.”
“Then what?”
Mr. Van Mechelen pointed at Mr. Bavel.
“Mr. Bavel found this unsettling. Ramon is extremely punctual. Mr. Bavel called his house. A servant told him that Ramon had left in his car.”
“Mrs. Bavel was not at home?”
“She … eh, she was away, making funeral arrangements for her son, Erik.”
DeKok listened intently. He paid particular attention to what was not being said.
“And since that time nobody has seen Ramon?” he asked with a worried look.
If anything Van Mechelen became more patronizing. He opened the lid of his briefcase and produced a sheet of paper. He placed it on the table, but then picked it up again and handed it to DeKok.
“This is what Mr. Bavel found a few hours ago, in his son’s room. Perhaps you can explain it?” The tone was now definitely spiteful.
DeKok took the sheet of paper and read out loud: “‘The police at Warmoes Street Station intend to arrest me for the murder of Erik and that other boy. It’s better that I disappear. Love, Ramon. P. S. Dad, will you take care of this for me?’”
With a grin DeKok returned the sheet of paper.
“And that’s what you’re here to accomplish?”
“What?”
“You are ‘taking care of this’ for Ramon.”
Mr. Van Mechelen rose from his chair, indignation in his face and posture.
“In the name of my client I demand an explanation.”
DeKok shrugged insultingly.
“Did Ramon commit those murders?”
“Preposterous.”
“Then why is he running?”
The lawyer snorted.
“Would you want to be arrested for a crime you didn’t commit?”
DeKok shook his head.
“I do not arrest innocent people.”
“Do you have any proof, any indications that Ramon had anything to do with the murders?”
“No.”
Van Mechelen tapped the paper several times with his nails.
“Then why should Ramon believe you’re planning to arrest him?”
DeKok grinned.
“You tell me. Does he have an overactive imagination? Or is guilt driving him? What’s eating Ramon … does he have reason to be afraid of an arrest?”
The lawyer shot DeKok a disgusted look.
“Where are the facts? This is all abstract supposition.”
DeKok nodded slowly, winking at the lawyer. The lawyer seemed startled and stared at DeKok as if he did not believe he had actually seen a wink.
“Apparently some abstract supposition, as you put it, compelled Ramon to disappear. We never planned to arrest him. Not yet.” DeKok paused and took a deep breath. “Your presence here makes me wonder whether you have information you aren’t sharing. It also makes me wonder whether your appearance isn’t a clever ploy. A slick lawyer might delay an official investigation by helping a suspect flee.”
A prominent vein throbbed on Van Mechelen’s forehead. He planted himself in front of DeKok, getting close up and personal. His neck was swollen and bulged over his collar.
“What the hell are you insinuating?” he yelled.
DeKok gave him a measured look. He’d never forgotten his distaste for Van Mechelen’s machinations. With an effort he controlled himself.
“Call it what you will,” he said calmly. “Believe m
e my superiors wouldn’t take it lightly. In any event we would be remiss not to consider the possibility.”
Commissaris Buitendam came between the two men. He was shocked. He stretched out an arm toward the door.
DeKok raised his hands in a defensive gesture.
“Never mind, you don’t have to say anything … I’m leaving.”
He left the room. None of the occupants saw the jubilant smile on his face.
DeKok looked at Vledder and greeted him with a jovial laugh.
“So, what did they say at the hospital?” he asked. “All the parts still in the right place? No broken bones?”
Vledder was enjoying the benefits of a long, restful night. His eyes were clear, there was a healthy blush in his face, and a spring in his step. He threw his coat in the direction of the peg and sank down in the chair behind his desk.
“Just a few bruises and scrapes on my back. No other damage.”
“What about your stomach?”
Vledder waved that away.
“If the pain and nausea persist, I have to go back for a picture. So far, so good—I’m a lot better today.” He changed the subject. “If I die, it would be from curiosity. What happened with the reception committee?”
DeKok grinned.
“I don’t think they’re fans.”
“Did you loose your temper again?”
DeKok shrugged.
“Bavel’s lawyer, Gerard Van Mechelen, went right for my throat. Ramon left a parting note asserting our intention to arrest him. He went on to say he thought it better to disappear. Van Mechelen demanded an explanation.”
Vledder bit his lower lip.
“That has to have come straight from Kiliaan Waardenburg,” he said ruefully. “He didn’t waste much time.”
“He left here looking like a man with a mission.”
“You didn’t let on?”
DeKok shook his head.
“I didn’t see the need. I just turned their arguments against them, going on the offensive. I asked Bavel’s lawyer whether Ramon had committed the murders. When he characterized my question as preposterous, I asked why Ramon had disappeared if he was so innocent.”
Vledder smiled gleefully.
“Then what?”
“I won’t bother you with all the details. When I told him Ramon’s disappearance appeared to be a lawyer’s trick, he exploded. He blocked my path and, for a moment, I thought he wanted to attack me physically. But Buitendam sent me away.”
“He didn’t explain?”
“Nope.”
Vledder laughed out loud.
“Oh that is perfect—just beautiful.” It took a while before his laughter faded. “Seriously what do you think of Ramon’s disappearance? You don’t think it’s proof of guilt? Holland is an enlightened country; we have safeguards to protect the innocent. Why would an innocent party run to avoid questioning?”
DeKok looked pensive.
“Now you sound like a lawyer who …” He did not finish the sentence. “Forget it,” he continued in a different tone of voice. “Right after Erik’s death Mrs. Bavel assigned the blame to Ramon. Remember how she raked up the history of Ricky’s death, almost in the same breath.
I’m sure she didn’t stop with us. She will still be talking about Ramon’s reprehensible behavior toward both dead brothers. One alarming phone call from either Waardenburg Senior, or Junior, could have created a shock effect … triggering panic mode.”
“You mean that he disappeared because he was innocent?”
DeKok nodded firmly.
“You don’t have to be the perpetrator to feel guilt. There’s such a thing as moral guilt.”
“I can’t see Ramon burdened with moral guilt? A character like Ramon doesn’t suddenly sprout a conscience!” There was disbelief in Vledder’s voice.
DeKok raised a cautioning finger in the air.
“Keep in mind we only know Ramon from his mother’s description. It wouldn’t surprise me to hear exactly the opposite from Pa Bavel.” He scratched his ear. “Something keeps telling me there is something wrong in the Bavels’ marriage. Pa Bavel made a sympathetic impression on me. If Ramon resembles his father, he may not be the evil, ruthless son his mother portrays. Nonetheless,” he added thoughtfully, “there is a peculiar contrast in the parents’ behavior. It seems the father was arranging a business lunch for Ramon, while the mother was arranging Erik’s funeral.”
Vledder nodded in agreement.
“All right,” he said after a long pause. “Let’s scratch Ramon as a suspect.”
DeKok was irritated.
“You go from one extreme to another. Ramon’s motives, the ones you attributed to him, have not disappeared with him. Not that his disappearance hasn’t added an unnatural emphasis. What I can’t choke down is Ramon’s involvement in the murder of Jean-Paul. That’s quite a stretch. It may be best to avoid taking pot shots—the wrong people could get hurt.” A smile curled around his lips. “This is especially true with my old friend, Van Mechelen, in the picture.”
He moved in his chair and shook his head.
“We have virtually no case, do you realize that?”
“How do you mean? We have two corpses.”
“Exactly and that’s about all we have. We have one crime scene that consists of some bricks near the canal. The area has been washed clean several times by the rain. The other crime scene has been vandalized by our friends from Utrecht.” He changed his tone. “I still can’t believe Mina Lyons ignored the police tape on the doors and showed the room to new boarders,” he mused. Then he continued more vigorously: “But put that aside. No crime scenes, as I said. We have no suspects worth mentioning, because we have decided the same individual committed both murders. Above all, we have no solid motive. As I said,” he concluded, “we have two corpses.”
He glanced at the clock on the wall.
“The two boys will be buried at eleven this morning at West Gardens. Why don’t you have a look and see who attends the services. You have to be there anyway to inspect the coffins.”
He stood up and took his hat and coat from the peg. Vledder followed him.
“And you? What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to have a cup of coffee with an old friend.”
“Who?”
“Handie Henkie,” replied DeKok with a wide grin.
13
Handie Henkie, the ex-burglar looked at DeKok with
suspicious eyes. He tilted his head, as if to get a better look.
“Did you really come to see me, just to have a cup of coffee?” He sounded skeptical. “Somehow I find that hard to believe. You’re up to something.”
“How is your daughter?”
“Excellent.”
“No more problems?”
“No.”
“It’s been a while since I’ve seen her.”
Henkie slapped his hand on the table.
“Come on, DeKok,” he said with annoyance, “quit stalling. What do you want?”
DeKok lowered his eyes and scratched the back of his head.
“Well,” he began, “not to put too fine a point on it, I wanted … I want you to come with me. His tone was hesitant. “I don’t think I can manage on my own.”
The ex-burglar shook his head resolutely.
“Nothing doing,” he declared firmly. “Forget about it! I won’t do it anymore. During that last trip you asked me to help you, so much went wrong that I was glad to get out of it with my skin intact. I swore I would never do it again. I just don’t want to run the risk. Why should I?” He looked at DeKok. “Do you know how long I’ve been a free man?”
DeKok nodded slowly.
“Seventeen years, eight months, three weeks, and … eh, two days.”
Handie Henkie looked surprised.
“You’ve been keeping track?”
DeKok was serious.
“Just before I came over, I looked up your record.”
“Why?”
“Because, I just wanted to know.”
Henkie lost his temper. He gesticulated wildly.
“I’m doing very well, DeKok. No problems. I live in a nice apartment. I wouldn’t like to trade it for a cell.”
DeKok nodded his understanding.
“On the way here, I thought about it.” His voice was sad. “I realized that I had called on you too often. I knew it had to come to an end sooner or later.”
Henkie grinned.
“Are you getting all sentimental on me, is that it?”
DeKok stroked his gray hair.
“Why not. Haven’t I known you for a quarter century? That is a large chunk out of a person’s life. In the beginning I was out to get you. I even presented you with a couple of years in jail. Even so, you were always ready to help me. You don’t forget things like that, Henkie. You keep that in your heart.”
The old burglar moved restlessly in his chair.
“Cut out the soft soap, DeKok,” he said crustily. “I’m not going to let you persuade me. I’m not hitting the bricks with you and that’s final.” He sighed deeply. His tone became milder. “Besides, times have changed. Nothing is like it used to be.” He gestured with both hands. “What do I know about modern security methods with all that electronics stuff? Nothing. I know about locks. I know how to open a safe. That was all you needed in my day.”
DeKok pointed at his host.
“According to me, you’re still the greatest burglar of all time in the eastern hemisphere.”
“You mean the western hemisphere,” said Henkie peevishly.
“No, that’s what most people think, because we’re in western Europe. But we’re actually in the eastern hemisphere. Look it up in an atlas.”
“It’s all the same to me.”
“Well, it doesn’t really matter,” admitted DeKok. “Either way, you’re probably the best in both hemispheres.”
Handie Henkie shook his head.
“Don’t start again. You know where I stand.”
DeKok smiled.
“I thought you were going to serve coffee.”
“Anything new from West Garden?”
Vledder shrugged.
DeKok and Murder by Melody Page 10