She lowered her head.
"Robert had little faith in the police."
DeKok closed his eyes for a moment.
"Neither do I, sometimes," he sighed. He gave her a searching look. "When you picked Robert up that night, was he running away from something or somebody?"
"Yes."
"From Therese?"
"Yes, or from his love for her. According to Robert, there was danger in that love. He wanted to escape."
DeKok nodded to himself.
"And where can I find Therese?"
"She lives in a house along Emperor's Canal."
"Have you ever been there?"
"Yes."
"To do what?"
"To tell her Robert was with me."
"Did Robert know about that?"
No.
"Then why did you do it?"
"I wanted to see her."
"What did Therese say?"
Antoinette shook her head.
"She said nothing. She never stopped crying."
When Vledder returned from attending the autopsy, DeKok was waiting for him in the lobby of the station.
"Let's go."
"Where to now?"
DeKok produced a scrap of paper from the pocket of his old raincoat.
"1217 Emperor's Canal. It's the house of one Therese de la Fontaine."
"Say that again."
"Therese de la Fontaine. According to Antoinette, Therese is the woman who caused all of Robert's problems. Directly or indirectly, she could be the cause of his death."
"Therese de la Fontaine," Vledder said, a thoughtful look on his face. "That name is familiar. Isn't she a photographer's model?"
DeKok shrugged.
"I don't know much about that world."
Vledder nodded.
"Yes, I remember now. A few years ago she competed for the title of miss-something-or-other. There was a scandal. The jury was supposed to have been bribed. In the end she withdrew from competition."
DeKok gave him a hard look.
"Another snippet from the scandal sheets?"
The young inspector did not answer. Grinning, he exited the station. He unlocked the doors of the VW, which was illegally parked at the curb in front of the station. Vledder held open the passenger door for his partner.
"So," said Viedder, seating himself behind the wheel, "Antoinette talked after all. Did she or didn't she know Robert's identity?"
DeKok shook his head.
"She did not know, and I'm inclined to believe her."
Vledder started the engine and pulled out.
"How could she have known Therese, then?" remarked Vledder with suspicion in his voice.
DeKok pushed his hat deeper over his eyes.
"Robert told her in detail of his love for Therese, his fears, attempts made on his life. He said bad things began to happen soon after he met Therese. Without telling Robert, Antoinette went to see Therese one day. Out of curiosity."
"She got the address from Robert, I presume?"
"Obviously."
"Did she talk with Therese?"
"There was no conversation."
Vledder took one hand off the steering wheel and slapped his own forehead.
"She must have asked for an explanation, at the very least."
DeKok nodded slowly.
"She asked, but did not receive. According to Antoinette, Therese was crying-there was no way of exchanging a sensible word with her."
Vledder shook his head.
"Something is wrong," he exclaimed, irritated. "It is all just too vague. Aren't you dissatisfied? Were you being too soft on Antoinette, too circumspect? Why don't you let me interrogate her?"
"What would you do differently? Give her the third degree?"
Vledder gave his partner a sidelong glance but did not respond. He maneuvered carefully through the busy inner city.
DeKok stared out the window. Downtown was bustling. People carried parcels and shopping bags. It was cheerful to see people able to spend money; the economy was strong. He wondered what kind of St. Nicholas surprise he should get for his wife.
Vledder broke in on his musings.
"What are we going to do with Therese?"
"What do you mean?"
"If she keeps crying."
DeKok smiled.
"We'll wait until she's finished."
1217 Emperor's Canal was one of Amsterdam's historic canal houses. It had been beautifully restored. The crowning outside feature was a slender ornamental neck-gable facade. Bluestone steps led from two sides to the imposing front door. On either side of the steps were half windows built at the level of the sous-terrain, or "below the ground." In earlier centuries, the servants of wealthy Amsterdam households lived in basement quarters. In most houses there was also direct access to the canals, either in the front or the back of the home. The buildings actually extend below the waterline. Boats with produce would deliver wares directly to the kitchens. It was one of the features that gave Amsterdam the title "Venice of the North." Real Amsterdammers, however, refer to Venice as the "Amsterdam of the South," since Amsterdam has nearly twice as many canals and bridges as does Venice.
Vledder parked the car and the two inspectors climbed the steps to the front door. In the center of the door was an engraved copper plate. Etched in black raised letters the name Therese de la Fontaine formed. DeKok examined the name as he pulled on the iron bellpull. He and Vledder heard tinkling silver bells somewhere in the depths of the house.
It took too long for DeKok. His right hand felt in his pocket for the ingenious instrument made for him by the ex-burglar Handle Henkie. It could open any lock designed by man.
Vledder saw the gesture and anxiously shook his head.
"Don't do it," he urged. "Just don't. You know how much trouble it caused when we broke into that man Vreeden's villa a few years ago."
DeKok grinned.
"I don't break in, I simply open a door in a professional manner. That's something entirely different."
"You missed a career in burglary."
A boyish smile transformed DeKok's craggy face.
"Perhaps I did." The thought seemed to amuse him. He leaned over and with confident expertise selected a special setting on the instrument. "But one thing is for sure."
"And what's that?"
"If I'd become a burglar, I would have more money in the bank."
To Vledder's great relief, they heard the sound of footsteps in the hall behind the door.
A slender, rather handsome man answered the door. DeKok estimated his age to be late forties. The man's face was a pale tawny color. The features were sharply delineated. His hair was jet black, wavy and thick. He was greying at the temples, but it became him. He raised his eyebrows, questioning.
The grey sleuth lifted his hat.
"My name is lleKok," he said politely, "with a kay-oh-kay." He moved his head sideways. "And this is my colleague Vledder. We're inspectors attached to Warmoes Street Station."
"Police?"
DeKok nodded emphatically and replaced his hat. He pointed to the name on the door.
"We expected to have an interview with Therese de la Fontaine."
The man shook his head.
"I'm sorry to say Therese is not here."
"When will she be back?"
The man shrugged his shoulders.
"I do not know."
DeKok smiled.
"But this is her residence?"
"Certainly. Therese lives here. But last night she packed some bags and left."
"Where did she go?"
The man spread his arms wide.
"God knows."
7
A deep sigh escaped DeKok's broad chest. He spoke listlessly, with slow movements of the head.
"You're right ...God knows." He gestured forward. "Shall we continue the interview inside?"
The man hesitated.
"Does that make any sense with Therese away?"
DeKok nodd
ed with emphasis.
"Certainly. Perhaps you can help us."
The man stepped aside and allowed the inspectors to enter. After he had closed the door behind them, he led the way down a wide corridor tiled in pink marble. The hollow sound of their footsteps echoed through the space.
At the end of the corridor, the man led them into a spacious, high-ceilinged room. The pearl-grey carpeting was luxurious. There were easy chairs arranged in a square. A group of rococo angels looked down from the ceiling, lascivious looks in their eyes.
The man waved an invitation.
"Please have a seat."
DeKok and Vledder selected seats and sank down. The sensation of the springy cushions gave DeKok a queasy feeling. He placed his hat on the floor next to the chair and looked at the man, who had taken a seat across from him.
"By now you know who we are," he started amicably, "but who are you?"
The man sat up a bit straighter.
"Heusden, Matthias Heusden."
"You live here?"
"Yes.
"And what is your relationship to Therese?"
"I'm her stepfather."
DeKok wrinkled his nose.
"Stepfather?"
Heusden laughed.
"It sounds worse than it is." He shook his head. "Really, stepfathers don't have such a bad reputation. I mean, not nearly as bad as stepmothers."
DeKok gave him a searching look. Heusden had winning manners and his voice had a pleasant sound.
"You are the second husband of Therese's mother?"
He nodded.
"Therese was about five years old when we married. Even as a child, she was already beautiful."
"You mean she's still beautiful?"
"Therese grew up to be an exceptionally lovely young woman. She has an elfin, almost ethereal beauty. A true goddess."
lleKok savored the tone of voice.
"She's a photographic model?"
Heusden clicked his tongue.
"And such a model-she has a golden future."
I)eKok looked around the room.
"Does your wife live here as well?"
Heusden shook his head. His face became somber.
"Maria and I," he said sadly, "have been apart for years. We had marital troubles, too many to overcome. We decided to separate."
"And Therese elected to stay with you?"
"Indeed, she chose me. She preferred not to stay with her mother, who, eh, soon reverted to her former profession."
DeKok leaned his head to one side.
"What is her profession?" he asked.
Therese's stepfather nodded slowly.
"It's the oldest profession, if you follow."
"Is she here in Amsterdam?"
"Yes."
DeKok paused to organize his thoughts.
"Do you remember," he said carefully, feeling his way, "a young woman visiting here a few days ago?"
Heusden narrowed his eyes.
"A rude, rather common child, I thought."
DeKok pursed his lips in disapproval.
He said with some asperity, "I would not exactly describe her as common." He shook his head. "But we may be talking about the same young woman."
Heusden nodded thoughtfully.
"Yes, she was here briefly. She talked with Therese for a short time."
"What about?"
Heusden spread his arms.
"That, I don't know. I was not present. The young woman indicated she wanted to speak to Therese privately."
"You let her in?"
"Yes."
"And after the conversation you led her back to the door?"
"Indeed."
"How did Therese react after the conversation?"
Heusden shrugged.
"Therese has a very tranquil composure. She appeared calm."
"You didn't think to ask Therese why such a common creature came to visit?"
For the first time a hint of irritation showed through Heusden's urbanity.
"Therese," he said sharply, "lives her own life. I'm not her guardian."
DeKok grinned.
"Yet she's fled."
"Are you calling it a flight?"
"An escape, yes," DeKok sounded patient. "A young woman packs her bags in the middle of the night and sneaks out of the house. Wouldn't you call it an escape?"
Heusden closed his eyes for a moment.
"I don't know," he said wearily, "what's the matter with her."
"She left no note ...a message?"
"No, nothing."
"Have you any idea where she might be?"
Matthias Heusden shook his head.
"As I said, God only knows. I can't even guess where she might be. Perhaps she went after that Robert."
DeKok did not change his expression, but came to full alert.
"Who is Robert?" he asked nonchalantly.
"Robert Achterberg, a nice young nian she niet while she was working. They went out a few times."
"A relationship?"
Heusden made a defensive gesture.
"Oh, no, certainly not," he said, apparently shocked at the notion. "No, no, it was just a relaxed friendship between two young people."
"You know hire?"
"Who?"
"This Robert."
"Of course I know hinl. He even lived here for a while. About a week ago he suddenly left."
DeKok leaned forward and concentrated his total attention on the face of the man across from hint.
"Robert," he said icily, "is dead."
Heusden's mouth fell open in unfeigned surprise.
"Dead?" he repeated.
"Yes, murdered."
For a moment it looked as if the nian was about to faint, but he recovered his composure quickly.
"Was he shot?"
DeKok nodded slowly.
"Yes, indeed. Shot dead."
The man clapped both hands over his face and groaned.
"Maria ...she did it after all."
They drove away from Emperor's Canal. Both men remained silent as Vledder guided the VW through the busy traffic in the narrow streets.
DeKok sagged down in his seat. He had pushed his decrepit little hat deep down over his eyes. The interview with Matthias Heusden, he thought, clarified a number of things. It also raised a number of new questions.
As they reached a wider street with less traffic, Vledder glanced aside.
"Are we going to arrest her?"
"Who?"
"Therese's mother."
DeKok pressed himself into a more upright position.
"Oh, the impetuousness of youth," he chided. "The fact that Maria threatened to shoot Robert does not automatically mean she did."
"She had a motive."
DeKok shrugged his shoulders.
"She didn't think Robert Achterberg was a suitable partner for her beautiful daughter. How many mothers do not immediately approve of their daughters' choices?" He grinned. "I clearly recall my own mother-in-law was not keen when she met me for the first time."
Vledder reacted vehemently.
"Here's the difference-you are alive. Not all disappointed mothers make death threats."
DeKok nodded.
"You're right," he said, resigned. "In light of Robert's death, we must take the threats seriously. We're obliged to speak with her expeditiously. For the present, I do not feel inclined to arrest Maria, however. Heusden's statement alone is no basis for arrest. As far as I'm concerned, we are already holding a woman at Warmoes Street who doesn't belong in custody."
Vledder downshifted, narrowly avoiding a bicyclist. The cyclist appeared intent on suicide. Without looking or signaling, he swerved from one side of the road to the other. Vledder smiled when he saw the bike come to a sudden stop next to a good-looking girl burdened with shopping bags. "Knight on wheels rescues damsel from paper dragon," he mused.
"Can't you use Heusden's story to release Antoinette?" asked Vledder while he shifted up and lost sight of the couple.<
br />
DeKok grimaced.
"I can try, of course. Maybe it will succeed. On the other hand, I run the risk of having the commissaris order me to find, arrest, and incarcerate Maria de la Fontaine. We know it is a possibility, and we know he's none too particular in weighing the evidence. He certainly would leap at a chance to charge her with murder."
Vledder grunted in agreement.
"You know what our next step should be?" asked DeKok brightly.
Vledder had known his partner, mentor, and friend for a long time.
"Lowee," he said without hesitation.
DeKok nodded.
"My throat is suddenly dry. I thirst after a glass of fine cognac."
Lowee, a man of diminutive stature, was known throughout the quarter as "Little Lowee." He and DeKok had been close acquaintances for years and had developed a genuine friendship built on respect.
Lowee had a bar on the corner of Barn Alley. He called it his establishment. The sparsely lit, intimate space was a gathering place for the working girls of the neighborhood.
This is where they came to rest and relax-Black Trudie, Red Sonia, Blond Greta-they all came to Lowee's. Here is where they sipped sweet drinks, exchanged gossip, and discussed the economic aspects of their business.
DeKok sidled over to the end of the bar and hoisted his heavy frame onto a bar stool. It was his regular place. Froin here he could lean his back against the wall and oversee the entire room. Vledder sat down beside him. Little Lowee had just settled a fistfight between rivals in the world's oldest profession. He placed the brawlers at separate tables and announced a round on the house.
As he turned toward the bar, he spotted DeKok. With a happy smile on his face he trotted over.
"Glad to see youse," he chirped. "Gimme a sec whilst I calm down the dames. Gotta keep 'em from starting again."
He quickly produced a tray and filled it with liquor glasses. With a bottle in each hand, he simultaneously poured a brown liquid into some of the glasses and a green one into the others. He placed the bottles on the counter behind him, picked up the tray, and distributed the drinks to loud cries of approval from the former contenders.
He returned to the bar and placed the tray under the counter. When he reappeared, he had three large snifters in one hand and an expensive-looking bottle of cognac in the other.
"Lookie wadda I find," said Lowee in a proud voice.
DeKok and the Dead Lovers (Inspector DeKok Investigates) Page 5