it was only to be expected . . . Good God no, we’re not going to drop the matter as quickly as that. I’ll be in touch again shortly.’
He listened for a short while longer, then said goodbye and hung up. Leaned back on his chair and glared at Münster.
‘Sachs,’ he said. ‘They’ve spoken to people at that restaurant now.’
‘And?’ said Münster.
‘Unfortunately it seems he was in fact hanging around there all the time, our friend G.’
‘Oh dear. But maybe he—’
‘The whole evening.’
‘Are they certain of that?’
The temperature in the area of low pressure fell by several more degrees.
‘Apparently. Damn and blast!’
Münster shrugged.
‘So that’s that, then. I suppose we can—’
‘But who knows? He arrived at about half past seven – he’d rung in advance and booked a table. As if he were determined to set himself up with an alibi, the swine.’
Van Veeteren stared hard at Münster.
‘And then what?’ wondered Münster, as was presumably the intention.
‘Then? Well, he had dinner, drank a fair bit with it, then moved over to the bar, they reckon. He evidently took a taxi at about a quarter to one: they’re trying to track down the driver. Damn and blast, as I said.’
Münster nodded.
‘So he’s clean, it seems? It’s not possible that he slipped out for an hour or so, I take it?’
‘How should I know? Nobody was keeping an eye on him all the time, but given how long it would take to get to Kammerweg and back . . . Well, I suppose it’s not totally out of the question. It would have had to be after he’d paid his bill in that case, and he presumably did that at about half past nine . . . Hmm . . .’
‘Was there anybody with him?’
‘Not while he was at his table. Apparently he spoke to somebody or other later in the bar . . . Maybe even several, but our colleagues in Linden haven’t bothered to look any closer into that. No, we shall have to try to find some other way of solving this, Münster.’
‘What, for example?’
The Chief Inspector snapped a toothpick and looked out through the window.
‘Theoretically . . . Theoretically he could have nipped out at around half past nine, driven like a madman to Kammerweg, pushed his wife into the empty swimming pool and been back in the bar at Columbine’s thirty or forty minutes later. But as I said, if you can think of a better solution, that’s fine by me.’
Münster said nothing for a while.
‘That business ten years ago . . .’
‘Twelve,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘Nineteen seventy-five.’
‘Twelve years ago. Were you involved in it in any way?’
Van Veeteren shook his head.
‘Not at all. The drugs squad dealt with all aspects of it, I only heard about it. It’s a pity they didn’t manage to get him locked away for longer – I suspect he should have got much more than two-and-a-half years . . . If they don’t appeal, that’s usually an indication that they were lucky.’
Münster squirmed in his chair.
‘Forgive me for asking,’ he said, ‘but how come you are so sure he is guilty this time as well? Despite everything, it does seem—’
‘I’ve never said I’m sure,’ interrupted Van Veeteren, annoyed. ‘But I’m damned if I’m going to exclude that possibility at this early stage.’
‘There is a variant,’ said Münster after a short pause.
‘A variant?’ said Van Veeteren. ‘What do you mean by that, Inspector?’
Münster cleared his throat and hesitated for a moment.
‘Well, how about this?’ he said. ‘It’s purely hypothetical, of course. Hennan leaves the restaurant, let’s say at a quarter to ten. He goes out and meets his wife somewhere in central Linden. He hits her and kills her and puts her body in the boot of his car. It takes about ten minutes. Then he goes back into the restaurant. When he gets home – at about one o’clock – he takes her out of the boot and throws her into the swimming pool. Then he phones the police.’
Van Veeteren
He listened for a short while longer, then said goodbye and hung up. Leaned back on his chair and glared at Münster.
‘Sachs,’ he said. ‘They’ve spoken to people at that restaurant now.’
‘And?’ said Münster.
‘Unfortunately it seems he was in fact hanging around there all the time, our friend G.’
‘Oh dear. But maybe he—’
‘The whole evening.’
‘Are they certain of that?’
The temperature in the area of low pressure fell by several more degrees.
‘Apparently. Damn and blast!’
Münster shrugged.
‘So that’s that, then. I suppose we can—’
‘But who knows? He arrived at about half past seven – he’d rung in advance and booked a table. As if he were determined to set himself up with an alibi, the swine.’
Van Veeteren stared hard at Münster.
‘And then what?’ wondered Münster, as was presumably the intention.
‘Then? Well, he had dinner, drank a fair bit with it, then moved over to the bar, they reckon. He evidently took a taxi at about a quarter to one: they’re trying to track down the driver. Damn and blast, as I said.’
Münster nodded.
‘So he’s clean, it seems? It’s not possible that he slipped out for an hour or so, I take it?’
‘How should I know? Nobody was keeping an eye on him all the time, but given how long it would take to get to Kammerweg and back . . . Well, I suppose it’s not totally out of the question. It would have had to be after he’d paid his bill in that case, and he presumably did that at about half past nine . . . Hmm . . .’
‘Was there anybody with him?’
‘Not while he was at his table. Apparently he spoke to somebody or other later in the bar . . . Maybe even several, but our colleagues in Linden haven’t bothered to look any closer into that. No, we shall have to try to find some other way of solving this, Münster.’
‘What, for example?’
The Chief Inspector snapped a toothpick and looked out through the window.
‘Theoretically . . . Theoretically he could have nipped out at around half past nine, driven like a madman to Kammerweg, pushed his wife into the empty swimming pool and been back in the bar at Columbine’s thirty or forty minutes later. But as I said, if you can think of a better solution, that’s fine by me.’
Münster said nothing for a while.
‘That business ten years ago . . .’
‘Twelve,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘Nineteen seventy-five.’
‘Twelve years ago. Were you involved in it in any way?’
Van Veeteren shook his head.
‘Not at all. The drugs squad dealt with all aspects of it, I only heard about it. It’s a pity they didn’t manage to get him locked away for longer – I suspect he should have got much more than two-and-a-half years . . . If they don’t appeal, that’s usually an indication that they were lucky.’
Münster squirmed in his chair.
‘Forgive me for asking,’ he said, ‘but how come you are so sure he is guilty this time as well? Despite everything, it does seem—’
‘I’ve never said I’m sure,’ interrupted Van Veeteren, annoyed. ‘But I’m damned if I’m going to exclude that possibility at this early stage.’
‘There is a variant,’ said Münster after a short pause.
‘A variant?’ said Van Veeteren. ‘What do you mean by that, Inspector?’
Münster cleared his throat and hesitated for a moment.
‘Well, how about this?’ he said. ‘It’s purely hypothetical, of course. Hennan leaves the restaurant, let’s say at a quarter to ten. He goes out and meets his wife somewhere in central Linden. He hits her and kills her and puts her body in the boot of his car. It takes about ten minutes. Then he goes back into the restaurant. When he gets home – at about one o’clock – he takes her out of the boot and throws her into the swimming pool. Then he phones the police.’
Van Veeteren
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