As had now become his custom, van Effen parked his car at the rear of the Trianon but entered by the front door. A nondescript little man, seemingly engrossed in a newspaper, was seated close by the desk. Van Effen spoke to the man behind it.
‘I’d like a menu, please.’ He paid no attention to the seated man. ‘Thank you.’ He ticked off some items on the menu. ‘I’ll have that, that and that. And a bottle of burgundy. in my room at twelve-thirty please. After that I don’t want to be disturbed — so no phone calls, please. I’d be glad if you would give me a wake-up call at four o’clock.’ Van Effen took the lift to the first floor, walked down the stairs and peered cautiously round the comer. The little man had gone. He went across to the desk.
‘I see you’ve lost a valued customer, Charles.’
‘Hardly valued, Lieutenant. He drinks one tiny jonge jenever once every hour or so. That’s his third time here since last night. He is rather obvious, isn’t he?’
‘He doesn’t seem to think so. Will you cancel my lunch, Charles?’ Charles smiled. ‘Already cancelled.’
Van Effen left the Trianon a few minutes later, his appearance returned to normal.
‘Well,’ van Effen said, ‘were you worried stiff about me?’!Of course not,’ Julie said. ‘You told us there was nothing to worry about.’
‘Liar. You, too.’
‘Me?’ Annemarie said. ‘I haven’t said a word yet.’
‘You were about to. Your concern is perfectly understandable. A jonge jenever, large. The very jaws of death, I tell you.’ ‘Tell us about brave Daniel,’ Julie said.
‘In a moment. First of all, I must phone the Colonel. He will be consumed with anxiety about his trusty lieutenant.’
‘It’s twelve-thirty,’ Julie said. ‘If I know the Colonel his only concern now is what aperitif he’s going to have before lunch.’ ‘You do him an injustice. And, incidentally, me.’ He took the drink from his sister. ‘May I use your bedroom?’
‘Of course.’
Annemarie said: ‘I thought
‘There’s a phone there.’
‘Ab. State secrets.’
‘Not at all. Come along. Both of you. It’ll save me from having to repeat myself.’
He sat down on Julie’s bed, opened a bedside cupboard and extracted a phone. Annemarie said: ‘That’s a curious-looking instrument.’ ‘Scrambler phone. Any eavesdropper who is locked into your telephone hears only garbled nonsense. A device at the recipient’s end works in reverse and makes the jumble intelligible again. Much used by secret services and the Letter class of spy. Very popular with criminals, too. The original connection was to my apartment but I can also call de Graaf on it.’
He got through immediately. ‘Good morning, Colonel … No, I have not been attacked, kidnapped, tortured, assassinated or otherwise set upon … Quite the contrary;. Positively cordial … No, there was a newcomer. Romero Agnelli’s brother. Genial mafia-type, quite friendly, really, rejoicing in the name of Leonardo Agnelli … Yes, it is rather splendid, isn’t it, and yes, we’ve made some arrangements. I am engaged to blow up the royal palace at eight p.m…. No, sir, I do not jest.’ He covered the mouthpiece and looked at the two startled, wide-eyed girls. ‘I think the Colonel’s drink has gone down the wrong way. Yes, sir, amatol. Triggered by a remote-controlled radio device, details of which I shall be receiving this evening … Certainly I intend to do it. They’re depending on me … No, it’s deep in the cellars. There will be no loss of life … Very well.’
He covered the mouthpiece with one hand and gave his empty glass to Julie with the other. ‘I’m to keep a respectful silence while he communes with himself before telling me what to do. I don’t need telling and I almost certainly won’t agree with what he suggests.’ ‘Blowing up the royal palace.’ She looked at Julie who had just brought in the jenever bottle. ‘The palace. Blowing it up. He’s mad. You — you’re a policeman!’
‘A policeman’s lot is a hard one. All things to all men. Yes, I’m listening!’ There was a long pause. Julie and Annemarie studied his face covertly but closely, but he gave no indication as to what he was thinking although he did permit himself the occasional thoughtful expression as he sipped some more jenever.
‘Yes, I understand. Alternatives. First, you can pull me off altogether and you have the means to ensure that I do this, so, of course, I would have to accept that decision. But there’s a difference between pulling me off a job and putting me back on to it again. Should this prove to be the first in a series of bomb outrages — and you know better than anyone that those things almost invariably happen in cycles — then I should have to refuse to be assigned to the investigation on the grounds that I was fortunate enough to be given the opportunity to investigate this group’s activities and you denied me the opportunity … Certainly, sir, you could ask for my resignation on the grounds of refusing to obey orders. I would refuse to resign. You’d have to fire me. And then, of course, you would have to explain to your minister that you fired me because you had made a mistake, because you had refused to listen to me, because you wouldn’t give me the chance to stop what may be a new crime wave before it started, because you had backed your own judgement against mine and you had been wrong. Throw as many chestnuts as you like into the fire, Colonel. I refuse to pull them out. And I refuse to resign. Excuse me, sir.’
Julie had sat beside him on the bedside and had put both hands on his telephone arm as if trying to pull it away.
‘Stop it, Peter, stop it.’ Despite the fact that van Effen had prudently covered the mouthpiece, her voice was low, tense, urgent. ‘You can’t talk to the Colonel like that. Can’t you see that you’re putting tile poor man in an impossible situation?’ Van Effen looked at Annemarie. From her compressed lips and slowly shaking head it was evident that she was of the same opinion as Julie. Van Effen looked back at his sister and she visibly recoiled from the expression on his face.
‘Why don’t you hear me out instead of indulging in a repetition of last night’s unwarranted interference and blundering into things you know nothing about? You think he’s in an impossible situation? Listen to what I say and judge what kind of position I’m in.’ She slowly removed her hands and just looked at him, her expression uncomprehending. Van Effen raised the phone again.
‘Forgive the interruption, Colonel. Julie says that I have no right to talk to you in this fashion and that I’m putting you in an impossible situation. Julie, alas, doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Annemarie, who is also here, agrees with her but she wouldn’t know what she’s talking about either. In fairness to them I must say that, judging by the way they are looking at each other, they don’t think I know what I’m talking about either. You people are only on the periphery: I’m the man in the middle. An impossible situation, she says. Consider your alternative. ‘I go ahead as planned with Agnelli and company. You, you say, will ensure my safety. In the first place you are duty-bound — you claim — to notify the royal household using as justification the many threats that have been made against the royal family in recent months. You will have the Dam square invisibly cordoned off by snipers. You will have anti-terrorist police squads inside die palace itself. It has apparently never occurred to you that those criminals have their moles and informants pretty thick on the ground and that the presence of even one extra policeman will be immediately reported. I have been warned that if any such thing happened they would know that there could have been only once source, one person, through whom this information reached the police. And I don’t think — I know — that the palace security is pitiful and that those spies move freely within the gates. Lift that telephone to the palace, to your anti-terrorist squads, to any other policeman, and you might as well reach out for pen and paper and write down and sign my death warrant.’ That was, van Effen was aware, pitching it rather strongly, extradition was the worst he had to face, even assuming they had penetrated his disguise, which was uncertain. But now wasn’t the moment for such niceties. ‘Ensure my safety? You’ll ensure my death, van Effen in a better world by midnight. What’s one detective-lieutenant less just so long as your pettifogging rules and hidebound regulations are concerned? Maybe — no, I’m sure — that Julie and Annemarie don’t like me very much at the moment but I think they’ll have the grace to testify at the inquest that I did do my best to save my own miserable skin.