"Possibly," the commissaris said. "In which case they won't try to murder Ryder here." He slapped at a mosquito. "So we're wasting our time. Katrien put a thermos of coffee in the car."
"There's Grijpstra," de Gier said, "on the other shore. He just caught a fish. Man in the cap. And the little fellow farther along must be Cardozo, he's wearing red suspenders."
"You're sure?"
"Not sure," de Gier said. "They're partly hidden in the cattails. Should be them."
"There's still a lot that could go wrong," the commissaris said. "Perhaps I should have taken more precautions. Ah, Ryder is getting up. Look at that speedboat's engine, must be over a hundred horsepower. Huip is getting in."
De Gier whistled softly.
"No," the commissaris said. "That can't be correct. Huip should stay ashore. Now Ryder is getting in too. Are they going out together?"
De Gier dropped his binoculars. "We were misinformed. Huip won't blow himself up. I don't get what they're at."
"Oh, well," the commissaris sighed. "I had to fail somewhere. Too many factors in the equation again. I did try to fit them all in, but I have missed a few here and there. We'll have to rethink our attack most thoroughly next time. Poor Katrien."
De Gier peered through his binoculars. "They're taking off. Your wife, sir?"
"All my guests," the commissaris said. "Katrien wasn't too pleased with Miss Antoinette's arrival this morning. I can't expect her to keep running a hotel. Look, Sergeant, that boat is still increasing speed. Not a good idea. The wake will disturb the canoe over there. Not too thoughtful."
"Bastards," de Gier said. "There are little kids in the canoe. They're turning now, they think the lake belongs to them."
"Don't like it," the commissaris said. "Don't like this at all." He made an impatient gesture. "Surely not."
"What?"
"I was thinking," the commissaris said. "Like in Paris then… but Willem wouldn't… it doesn't really prove anything… although
…"
The explosion wasn't too loud, but a huge orange ball of fire formed immediately, ballooning up, shot through with burning remnants of the exploding boat. Two bright flaming objects were suspended well above the water where the boat was last seen. De Gier jumped and ran to the terrace. The commissaris limped after him. Startled guests had pushed over their tables and thronged the edge of the dock. Men jumped in boats and started up engines. Waves set up by Ryder's boat lapped against the marina's posts and planks. De Gier ran to the end of the terrace where he had seen de la Faille, but the baron was gone. Fernandus still sat at his table, sipping wine. The commissaris fell into the chair where Ryder had sat. "You… you…"
"Yes?" Fernandus asked. "Do say it, old chap. You what?"
"Your own son?" the commissaris asked. "But why?"
"Why not?" Fernandus asked.
"But…"
Fernandus looked at the lake, where the ball of fire was dying down. "But nothing. You're right, Jan, there's nothing there. You and I are part of it, figments of creative imagination. We can do as we like, and whatever gets in our way and is removable is removed."
"I'll remove you." The commissaris pointed a trembling finger. "You have to go."
"But I'm not removable," Fernandus said. "Neither are you, unfortunately. It wouldn't suit us to do away with one another. You're a powerful official on one side of the line, and I'm an inventive entrepreneur on the other side of whatever divides us. Why don't we shake hands and have a grand old age together?"
"No," the commissaris said. "You'll be destroyed."
"Pity," Fernandus said. "Stupid to the end. You're a coward, Jan, you never dare to think things out."
The baron was at the bar inside the motel. "Hi," de Gier said, taking the next stool. "Why did you blow them up?"
"Oh, hello," de la Faille said. "How did you enjoy the fireworks, Rinus? Do call me Bart."
"Those kids in the canoe might have drowned."
"We do have to take risks," the baron said. "Grand show, wasn't it? Never cared much for either of the victims, although I could put up with Ronnie at times, but a useful purpose will be achieved by Ryder's demise. The other liquidation may be more philosophical, I understand. Uncle is a great man for thinking solutions through. Can't follow him, always. A drink?"
"Bit short of time," de Gier said. "We'll have that duel soon. Okay?"
"No," the baron said.
"Yes," de Gier said. "Soon. To the death. Bare hands."
"I thought I could choose my weapon?"
"Not anymore," de Gier said. " 'Bye. You'll hear from me."
The commissaris read the note left under the windshield wiper of his car. See you in town, sir. Key's in the ignition. He looked to the side. Ryder's Ferrari was missing.
He got into the Citroen and drove slowly out of the parking lot. Halfway home, he stopped and limped to the bushes at the side of the road. When he came back he was wiping his lips, holding his other hand on his stomach.
"Jan?" his wife asked when he stumbled into her arms. "Something bad?" She sniffed at his face. "Were you unwell?"
"Willem killed his own son," the commissaris whispered.
She embraced him. "Do you want to lie down? Grijpstra and Cardozo are in your room. Shall I tell them to go away?"
"Tell them to wait," the commissaris said. "I need a bath, won't be long."
\\\\\ 28 /////
The Commissaris, in robe and slippers, guided by his wife, looked old and frail when he shuffled into his study. "Yes," he said softly when he looked around. "Hello, Adjutant, hello, Cardozo. I'm sorry."
Grijpstra sat quietly. Cardozo leaned against a bookcase. "I didn't foresee what happened on the lake," the commissaris said. "It seems logical now. Willem can be quite gruesome. One doesn't like to imagine that sort of thing."
"The others are downstairs," his wife said.
The commissaris turned toward her with an effort. "De Gier came too?"
"Yes."
The commissaris felt his chin. "A showdown, is it? He's calling my bluff."
"De Gier?" his wife asked.
"Yes, dear. But mostly Willem Fernandus, of course. One would like to think that a mishap occurred, that Huip set off the charge by accident, but it didn't go that way. Willem is destroying evidence." He felt for his cigars in the pocket of his robe. "Live evidence. Willem is eliminating his human instruments. First we saw the destruction of the junkies, then Heul's body was dumped in my car. Heul wasn't trustworthy. Willem knew that he would break if we squeezed him too hard. Huip was the next link. We would break Huip too, and Huip would blame his father. There was no love between Willem and his only child. Perhaps Willem wouldn't grant Huip the right of succession; that could be another motive."
"Oh, surely, Jan," his wife said. "It must have been an accident. Don't you think so, Adjutant?"
It became quiet in the room. Voices became audible downstairs.
"Grijpstra?" the commissaris asked.
"No, ma'am," Grijpstra said. "There was no accident. Fernandus knew we were all around him, watching what he'd do next. He pretended to call off Ryder's murder and took Huip's gadget. Then he gave it to the baron. Willem Fernandus trusts only the baron. De la Faille shot IJsbreker and tried to do away with your husband's turtle. He's Fernandus's right hand, like de Gier is your husband's right hand. The others don't matter, they're more like instruments, it seems."
The commissaris opened his tin of cigars and stared at the contents. "I don't like that, Adjutant. We've been working as a group. Your simile is too simple and"-he selected a cigar-"a little nasty perhaps?"
Grijpstra's eyelids fluttered.
"Sir?" Cardozo asked. "I was watching from the shore. I spotted the baron. He left the terrace immediately after the explosion and de Gier went after him. Maybe the sergeant found the detonator in the baron's pocket and we can prove something after all."