‘Nothing dramatic, I’m afraid,’ she said, ‘if that’s what you’d hoped. My husband got a job in Maardam, it was as simple as that. As a computer geek at Dixnerland. We’ve been living apart for six months, so it’ll be nice to start living as a family again.’
Moreno nodded.
‘Children?’
‘Three,’ said Sammelmerk. ‘Six, nine and twelve. As regular as clockwork. What about you?’
‘Not yet,’ said Moreno, looking out through the window at the dull grey landscape. ‘But I reckon it’s about time I got started.’
‘I can recommend it,’ said Sammelmerk. ‘Assuming you have a bloke.’
‘That would help, of course,’ said Moreno.
Sammelmerk laughed.
‘Things acquire the right level of importance when there are children involved — you can’t cheat any more. . Incidentally, this case involving the mother and her daughter seems absolutely horrendous. Please feel free to fill me in a bit more on the details. Assuming I’m going to be involved in one way or another. Although I suppose there is other business as well. .?’
‘There certainly is,’ said Moreno. ‘But I’m afraid I must dash off. I just wanted to say I’m thrilled to bits that it’s a woman who has moved into this office. . And I’d like to suggest that we should have dinner together once you’ve got sorted out. Then I can fill you in on this case, and lots of other things besides.’
Sammelmerk seemed to be quite touched.
‘My God,’ she said. ‘To tell you the truth I’m over the moon to discover that there’s another woman in the team. I’ve spent the last ten years working exclusively with male colleagues. You have to sort of tune in to another wavelength every damned morning before you start work. . Well, you know what it’s like. And of course we must go out and have a meal together — just give me a week or so to sort out the family.’
‘That goes without saying,’ said Moreno. ‘Just let me know when you’re ready.’
Sammelmerk nodded. Moreno felt an almost irresistible urge to give her a hug, but didn’t dare. It’s not yet time for CID officers to start hugging one another, she thought.
Instead she gave her a slightly awkward wave, and slunk out through the door. She had barely closed it before the image of Intendent deBries appeared in her mind’s eye. And she was reminded of what she had discussed with Münster — how quickly we forget all about people who are no longer around.
And how certain people — like Martina and Monica Kammerle, for instance (and perhaps also Tomas Gassel?) — took up so little space in this life that nobody noticed their absence when they vanished from the face of the earth.
Apart from the fact that a large number of CID officers were doing their best to track down the monster who had murdered them of course.
A paradox, a paradox, a most ingenious paradox, Moreno thought. I wonder if we shall ever find him?
Benjamin Kerran? No, put me right at the bottom of the list of those waiting to read that book.
26
For some reason Thursdays were always the worst. Ester Peerenkaas had often thought that many times before, and this Thursday — 7 December in the Year of Grace 2000 — was no exception. It was as if all the tasks that had been put on one side during the week had reached maturity and cried out to be dealt with at the same time on Thursday afternoon, otherwise they would probably be left until the following week. Friday was always Friday after all, and you couldn’t count on anything serious being done on a Friday: too much time was spent drinking coffee, and planning and discussing possible or impossible activities lined up for the weekend.
Ester was conscientious and understood how important it was to do her duty and thereby gain respect — the respect of her colleagues, despite the fact that she was a woman, and a beautiful one at that. Or perhaps especially for that reason. It was by means of hard and single-minded work that she hoped eventually to be promoted to chief financial officer of the whole hospital — when Svendsen retired in six or seven years’ time — and that was why she stayed at her desk making calculations and forecasts until six o’clock that windy and freezing cold evening. Only two weeks left to the Christmas holidays and a trip to Fuerteventura, so reward was beckoning in the shorter term as well.
She did what little shopping she needed to do at Laager’s in Grote Torg, and got back to her flat in Meijkstraat at a quarter to seven. She had a shower, made an omelette and listened to her telephone messages on the answering machine before flopping down on the sofa in front of the television, thinking that she had no intention of moving a limb until it was time to stagger to bed at about eleven o’clock, and enjoy a well-deserved night’s sleep.
She zapped around the channels for a while before sticking with Channel Five, where a discussion was taking place on the roles of men and women in the new century, to be followed by a crime programme at nine o’clock. Entertainment with a gesture in the direction of a social conscience, she thought as she adjusted the cushions under the small of her back and sipped away at the weak gin and tonic she generally allowed herself after a hard day at the office.
When the telephone rang it was twenty past nine, and the crime programme was well into its stride.
At first she couldn’t hear who the caller was, but after a few confusing seconds she realized that it was Anna. Anna Kristeva.
‘You sound odd,’ she said.
‘I am odd,’ said Anna. ‘What are you doing? Am I interrupting anything?’
‘No. I’m just watching the telly. . It’s about some loony who strangles women and pushes priests under trains. No, you’re not interrupting anything. What do you want?’
‘I’m ill,’ said Anna. ‘It’s a damned nuisance, but I can scarcely stand.’
‘I can hear it’s bad,’ said Ester. ‘There’s a lot of flu about.’
‘Yes, that’s what I’m told I’ve got,’ said Anna, coughing feebly. ‘Three or four days in bed, and I’ll feel fine after a week, according to my doctor. . But just now I find it hard to see the light at the end of the tunnel. Thirty-nine degrees when I took my temperature an hour ago. . Huh.’
‘Poor you,’ said Ester. ‘Is there anything I can do to help? Do you need any shopping doing?’
‘No, no,’ Anna assured her, ‘all the practicalities are taken care of. My neighbour — you know, that engineer who has a soft spot for me, he looks after all that. But there is one thing. .’
‘Really?’ said Ester. ‘Fire away.’
‘My wild card.’
‘Eh?’
‘My wild card. The bloke I’m supposed to meet.’
‘What about him?’
Anna coughed a few times again.
‘I can’t very well turn up in this state.’
‘Ah! I see,’ said Ester. ‘When were you supposed to meet him?’
‘Tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘Yes. Don’t you remember? Keefer’s with T. S. Eliot, and that other business. .’
‘Oh yes, of course,’ said Ester. ‘Red tie and red Eliot. Forgive me, I’m a bit on the dozy side today as well. . Not that I’m ill, mind. It’s just that I had to work overtime, there was so much that couldn’t simply be left unattended to. So you’ll have to put him off, is that it?’
‘How?’ said Anna.
‘What do you mean, how?’
‘What am I supposed to do in order to put him off?’
‘Well, I suppose. .’
The penny dropped.
‘Oh yes, I see what you mean. You don’t have his phone number, do you?’
‘Nor his address, nor even his name, nothing at all. And I think it would be a shame to miss him. Not after we’ve completed the elimination process and all that. . Are you with me?’
‘Yes, I’m with you,’ said Ester. ‘But I don’t see what you can do about it. Three or four days in bed means three or four days in bed. You can’t just stagger into the restaurant in your state and go looking for Eliot.’
‘Exactly,’ said Anna, taking a deep, wheezy breath. ‘That’s precisely what I’m coming round to. That’s why I’m ringing.’