Just a Corpse at Twilight by Janwillem van de Wetering Page A
Authors: Janwillem van de Wetering
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the body rolled up in a blood-soaked blanket."
"You're sure it was blood?" Nellie asked.
"Could have been water," Grijpstra said. "It was dark, de Gier was out of his mind. They told him it was blood and he freaked out as usual. Mr. 'Murder Brigade Detective.' Tsksh. Jesus." Grijpstra snarled. "So we have recognizable hair hanging out one side of the blood-soaked blanket and recognizable bare feet hanging out the other and the body was dead."
"Wasn't de Gier too drunk to be sure?"
"No," Grijpstra said. "I do believe that angel-haired slender-footed body was dead. De Gier is too insistent. And don't forget he has seen hundreds of corpses in his time. There's something about dead bodies that makes them change into objects. Leftovers. Castofis. De Gier may have been crazy but he knows about being dead."
Katrien switched offthe recorder. "That's bad, Jan. No? I think that sounds bad."
"I'd like to hear the bad part again," the commissaris said. He was listening carefully when Katrien replayed the tape, leaning toward the recorder.
". .. but he knows about being dead," Grijpstra's hoarse voice said.
"Again, Jan?" Katrien asked.
"No, just carry on, dear."
"So what are you going to do, HenkieLuwie?" Nellie asked.
"Find that corpse," Grijpstra said. "Flash and Bad George are trying some extortion. Rinus has been spending a lot ofmoney so they think he's loaded. They gave him a big bill for saving me too, left it on the doorstep of the pagoda. You should see this place, Nellie. American wealth . . ."
"Saved you from what?" Nellie asked shrilly.
"Oh, I started rowing to Squid Island from the wrong place and there was a bit of a wind so they came looking for me and the dog spotted me—nice dog, Nellie, we should keep a dog too."
"Puppies poop and rip up carpets," Nellie said. "What makes you think that corpse is still there? Wouldn't they have burned it? Or dumped it overboard?"
"Extortionists do not destroy the evidence implicating their victim."
"So you find Lorraine's body," Nellie said. "Then what will you do?"
"I don't know, Nellie."
"You can't help a killer to escape."
"Something else," Grijpstra said. "There's a lot of drug traffic here. Imported and locally grown."
"Not your business, huh, HenkieLuwie?"
"The sheriff's business," Grijpstra said.
"I should say so," Nellie said.
"That's not quite what I meant. . .. Oh, by the way, Nellie, if you see the commissaris tell him that this hermit he and de Gier knew here, Jeremy, got old and sick and rowed himself into nowhere, but there's a disciple, a man called Ishmael."
"I don't like hermits, Henk. Hermits don't have enough to lose."
The commissaris winked at Katrien. She made a movement to stop the tape. He shook his head.
"Ishmael seems to be helpful," Grijpstra said. "And there's a woman who works in the restaurant here, a friend of Rinuss, who'll drive me to Boston to change my money. She's from Hawaii and she wants to go to Boston to see an exhibition of Hawaiian historical paintings. . . ."
"Henk!"
"I can't drive myself," Grijpstra said, "I get too sleepy, you know that."
"How old is this Aki, Henk?"
"Thirty-ish?"
"No! From Hawaii! They all swing their hips, and they're immoral. Remember that movie? How they crawled all over the sailors? And made them stay with them and that poor captain had to go home alone?"
"Aki's gay, Nellie. She lives with Beth, Beth owns the restaurant. It's all right, Nellie."
Katrien switched off the recorder. "After that, they're fighting. Poor Nellie. She's very upset about that gorgeous Hawaiian lady, Jan." She caressed his bald head, a little heavy-handedly. "Too bad you couldn't go."
Chapter 9
De Gier had gone ashore later in his own dinghy, a hand-crafted nutshell made out of thin cedar strips that sat high on the water. He joined Beth and Aki, plus Ishmael and Grijpstra, at the restaurant, where he arranged the journey to Boston. "Aki's car is a rustbucket, the doors are full of rainwater. They slosh when you
"You're sure it was blood?" Nellie asked.
"Could have been water," Grijpstra said. "It was dark, de Gier was out of his mind. They told him it was blood and he freaked out as usual. Mr. 'Murder Brigade Detective.' Tsksh. Jesus." Grijpstra snarled. "So we have recognizable hair hanging out one side of the blood-soaked blanket and recognizable bare feet hanging out the other and the body was dead."
"Wasn't de Gier too drunk to be sure?"
"No," Grijpstra said. "I do believe that angel-haired slender-footed body was dead. De Gier is too insistent. And don't forget he has seen hundreds of corpses in his time. There's something about dead bodies that makes them change into objects. Leftovers. Castofis. De Gier may have been crazy but he knows about being dead."
Katrien switched offthe recorder. "That's bad, Jan. No? I think that sounds bad."
"I'd like to hear the bad part again," the commissaris said. He was listening carefully when Katrien replayed the tape, leaning toward the recorder.
". .. but he knows about being dead," Grijpstra's hoarse voice said.
"Again, Jan?" Katrien asked.
"No, just carry on, dear."
"So what are you going to do, HenkieLuwie?" Nellie asked.
"Find that corpse," Grijpstra said. "Flash and Bad George are trying some extortion. Rinus has been spending a lot ofmoney so they think he's loaded. They gave him a big bill for saving me too, left it on the doorstep of the pagoda. You should see this place, Nellie. American wealth . . ."
"Saved you from what?" Nellie asked shrilly.
"Oh, I started rowing to Squid Island from the wrong place and there was a bit of a wind so they came looking for me and the dog spotted me—nice dog, Nellie, we should keep a dog too."
"Puppies poop and rip up carpets," Nellie said. "What makes you think that corpse is still there? Wouldn't they have burned it? Or dumped it overboard?"
"Extortionists do not destroy the evidence implicating their victim."
"So you find Lorraine's body," Nellie said. "Then what will you do?"
"I don't know, Nellie."
"You can't help a killer to escape."
"Something else," Grijpstra said. "There's a lot of drug traffic here. Imported and locally grown."
"Not your business, huh, HenkieLuwie?"
"The sheriff's business," Grijpstra said.
"I should say so," Nellie said.
"That's not quite what I meant. . .. Oh, by the way, Nellie, if you see the commissaris tell him that this hermit he and de Gier knew here, Jeremy, got old and sick and rowed himself into nowhere, but there's a disciple, a man called Ishmael."
"I don't like hermits, Henk. Hermits don't have enough to lose."
The commissaris winked at Katrien. She made a movement to stop the tape. He shook his head.
"Ishmael seems to be helpful," Grijpstra said. "And there's a woman who works in the restaurant here, a friend of Rinuss, who'll drive me to Boston to change my money. She's from Hawaii and she wants to go to Boston to see an exhibition of Hawaiian historical paintings. . . ."
"Henk!"
"I can't drive myself," Grijpstra said, "I get too sleepy, you know that."
"How old is this Aki, Henk?"
"Thirty-ish?"
"No! From Hawaii! They all swing their hips, and they're immoral. Remember that movie? How they crawled all over the sailors? And made them stay with them and that poor captain had to go home alone?"
"Aki's gay, Nellie. She lives with Beth, Beth owns the restaurant. It's all right, Nellie."
Katrien switched off the recorder. "After that, they're fighting. Poor Nellie. She's very upset about that gorgeous Hawaiian lady, Jan." She caressed his bald head, a little heavy-handedly. "Too bad you couldn't go."
Chapter 9
De Gier had gone ashore later in his own dinghy, a hand-crafted nutshell made out of thin cedar strips that sat high on the water. He joined Beth and Aki, plus Ishmael and Grijpstra, at the restaurant, where he arranged the journey to Boston. "Aki's car is a rustbucket, the doors are full of rainwater. They slosh when you
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