And about the negative sides, of course. How nothing seemed ever to be really serious. And about how one could create genuine hurt.
And about the fact that going in for this kind of activity implied that one had made up one’s mind to lead a solitary life. Once and for all.
‘Although you can never be really sure about nothing ever being serious,’ said Kristeva, lighting a cigarillo.
‘Are you thinking about your pilot?’ Moreno asked, but received only a non-committal smile in response.
Anyway, now that all the cards were on the table, Moreno could understand perfectly why the young lawyer had preferred not to talk to one of her male colleagues.
Rooth wouldn’t have had any sympathy at all with this approach, she thought. Probably not Münster or Reinhart either.
It wasn’t even clear that she did: but she had to admit that it was interesting. The first twenty minutes, at least.
After that, it became increasingly unpleasant. When they started discussing the latest development in the hunt for these men. The innovation since the middle of December or thereabouts.
‘A wild card?’ said Moreno. ‘You mean you actually selected a wild card? A man you knew absolutely nothing about? Not even his name?’
‘That’s right,’ said Kristeva sombrely. ‘But when I was due to meet him, I fell ill — so Ester took him instead.’
‘Against your will?’
‘Yes. She stole him from me, that’s all there was to it.’
‘And how did you react?’
‘I was absolutely furious. But there wasn’t much I could do about it. Ester and I haven’t really met since it happened either, we’ve only spoken on the phone once or twice. That’s why all I know is that she met him last Tuesday — the tenth, it must have been.’
‘Where? Do you know where they were going to meet?’
‘I’ve no idea.’
‘What do you know about this man?’
Kristeva inhaled deeply.
‘Nothing at all, really. I don’t think they could have met very often yet — that was probably the second time. She said something about him being otherwise engaged over the Christmas period, and she was in the Canary Islands for a couple of weeks.’
‘By herself?’
‘No, she was with a colleague from work. You should probably be interviewing her — she’s bound to know more about it than I do.’
Moreno turned back a few pages in her notebook.
‘Is it Karen deBuijck you’re referring to?’
Kristeva thought for a moment.
‘I think so,’ she said. ‘I don’t know her, but I think she’s called Karen.’
‘A colleague of mine is due to speak to her later this afternoon,’ said Moreno.
Kristeva put her hand over her mouth.
‘My God!’ she exclaimed. ‘You really are taking this seriously. Does that mean you believe something has happened to her?’
‘We don’t know anything for certain yet,’ said Moreno. ‘But it’s obviously not good that she’s been missing for a whole week.’
‘No,’ said Kristeva. ‘Of course not.’
Moreno cleared her throat and put down the sherry glass she had been swirling around for the last few minutes.
‘In any case, we obviously need to try to identify this man,’ she said. ‘All you can tell us about him is that Ester met him for the first time at Keefer’s restaurant. . That’s in Molnarstraat, isn’t it?’
Kristeva nodded.
‘And that was the eighth of December, a Friday?’
‘Yes.’
‘How did she describe him?’
‘Hardly at all. He seems to have been nice. I think he made a really good impression on her, but that’s about all I know. . I know no details, she said virtually nothing at all after that first meeting. Nothing later, either — but it could well be that the date last Tuesday was only their second meeting — or the first real one, as it were.’
‘You think so?’
‘Yes. Assuming it’s true what she said about him being busy before and over Christmas. But I suppose she could have been lying to me.’
‘Why should she do that?’
‘So as not to make me jealous. I was very annoyed about the way she carried on — she was breaking the rules.’
‘What rules?’
‘Nothing written, of course. But there’s always a network of invisible rules. That’s something you learn in my trade, if nothing else.’
She stretched out her arms, and smiled apologetically.
‘I understand,’ said Moreno. ‘But you don’t have a name?’
‘No.’
‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Absolutely certain. I would have remembered it if she’d mentioned one. The only details I know is that business about the tie and the book, but I knew about that before she met him anyway. . A red tie and a red T. S. Eliot book, that was how I was going to be able to recognize him.’
Moreno nodded. They’d already spoken about that.
‘Nothing about his job?’
‘No.’
‘Or his clothes?’
‘No.’
‘His age or his appearance?’
‘Nothing. But you can take it for granted that he’s pretty good-looking. Ester is very choosy.’
‘And that meeting last week, you don’t know anything about that? Apart from the fact that it was due to happen.’
Kristeva thought for a moment as she contemplated her well-manicured nails.
‘No. All she said was that she was going to meet him, and she was looking forward to it.’
‘Why did she mention it at all, if she thought you were going to be jealous?’
Kristeva shrugged.
‘I told her I was quite pleased with Gordon — the pilot, that is — and I suppose she felt she ought to say something. I wasn’t annoyed with her any longer — and that was why I rang her, in fact. I thought that. .’
‘Thought what?’ wondered Moreno when nothing else was said.
‘I suppose I thought I’d over-reacted a bit. I wanted to smooth things over and improve our relationship, that’s all.’
‘And did you manage that?’
Kristeva smiled wryly.
‘I think so. We talked about meeting at the weekend — last weekend, that is. We didn’t fix anything definite, we were going to get in touch. I thought it was her turn to ring, and I. . Well, I was busy with Gordon, I suppose. .’
‘When did you last speak to her? What day?’
‘Sunday last week. In the evening. She’d just got back home from Fuerteventura that afternoon.’
Moreno made a note, and wondered if there was anything else to ask about.
She couldn’t think of anything, thanked Anna Kristeva for taking the time to meet her, and left the offices.
She did so with somewhat different feelings than when she had arrived. She wasn’t at all sure what she thought about Anna Kristeva — as a woman and a human being — but at least the feeling of inferiority she had felt when she first arrived had been blown away completely.
Is the bottom line that I feel sorry for her? she wondered as she emerged into the street. Or for both of them? Both Anna Kristeva and Ester Peerenkaas and their artificial love lives?
Yes, possibly.
Perhaps there was all the more reason to feel sorry for fröken Peerenkaas.
If her analysis of all the disturbing implications was correct, that is.
On Thursday, 19 January, nine days after Ester Peerenkaas had last been seen alive, the Maardam police entered her flat in Meijkstraat. In charge of the operation — appointed very hastily — was Inspector Rooth, as Inspector Moreno — very hastily — had been given other duties by no less than Chief of Police Hiller himself.
Rooth was accompanied by Inspector Sammelmerk and the two friends of fröken Peerenkaas the police had been in touch with the previous day: Anna Kristeva and Karen deBuijk.