‘Well?’
‘. .’
‘Come on. You don’t need to say it in blank verse.’
Van Veeteren sighed.
‘All right. Hiller wants me to step in as a freelance chief inspector, and take over the helm until the ship has docked. They’re snowed under with other work as well. . He was pretty convincing — he’d probably been practising in advance.’
‘I see.’ She leaned over towards him. ‘Might one ask what you told him?’
‘I didn’t commit myself,’ said Van Veeteren, eyeing her thoughtfully. ‘To be honest, I’ve no desire to get involved again: but I must have a word with Münster and Moreno before I make a final decision. And Reinhart, when he’s capable of rational thought again. There’s a murderer on the loose out there after all.’
He turned his head and gazed out of the window.
‘I suppose that’s the quintessence,’ he said, caressing her arm. ‘I’m sitting here all snug and secure on this sofa with a devoted woman — but things are a bit different out there in the wide world.’
‘They certainly are,’ said Ulrike. ‘Although perhaps you don’t need to spend all your time looking out of the window. When are you going to speak to them?’
‘Tomorrow,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘I’ll meet all three of them tomorrow. Then we’ll see.’
‘No doubt we shall,’ said Ulrike. ‘I think we ought to go to bed now, so that you are thoroughly rested.’
Van Veeteren looked at the clock.
‘Half past eight?’ he said in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Can you possibly misunderstand me?’ Ulrike wondered as she ushered him into the bedroom. ‘What’s happened to your famous intuition?’
He noticed that she was smiling.
41
‘I drank an American beer once,’ admitted Van Veeteren. ‘Only once — please note that. But apart from that error, this must be the weakest brew I’ve ever come across.’
He eyed his two former colleagues with an expression of restrained displeasure.
‘The Chief Inspector’s imagery has not deteriorated since he became a bookseller,’ said Münster drily. ‘It certainly is a bit on the thin side, but the implications are quite clear even so, I think.’
‘I agree,’ said Moreno. ‘It might be a little wishy-washy, but there’s no denying the taste.’
‘Ah, well,’ muttered Van Veeteren, taking a swig of Adenaar’s significantly more full-bodied ale. ‘I understand what you’re getting at. We’re looking for an academic, I gather. Somebody employed in some capacity or other by Maardam University. A professor or a reader, presumably, and a member of the Succulents. I actually know of them, but only by name. Anyway, forgive my teasing: there clearly is a pattern. But let’s face it, anybody at all could have dropped that little lapel badge in Wallburg.’
‘Of course,’ said Moreno.
‘But the suggestions of a literary murderer fit in well with what we’ve concluded already,’ said Münster. ‘Benjamin Kerran and Amos Brugger. We’ve thought all the time that the killer must be quite well educated.’
‘You don’t need to be well educated to read a tenth-rate English crime novel,’ said Van Veeteren.
‘It links all the murders together,’ insisted Moreno. ‘The priest, Monica and Martina Kammerle have been connected from the start, but now it’s pretty sure that he has Kristine Kortsmaa and Ester Peerenkaas on his conscience as well. If you have the choice, it’s always better to be looking for just one murderer rather than several — as I seem to recall a certain chief inspector saying on several occasions.’
‘If you have the choice, yes,’ said Van Veeteren, still looking sceptical. ‘So you reckon there are five victims?’
‘Yes,’ said Münster with a sigh. ‘It seems so. A handful. But the big question, of course, is how we’re going to get anywhere with these damned freemasons. We have to investigate them, even if it turns out to be a false track. It won’t be easy to persuade them to cooperate. The whole set-up is one of those fraternities in which everybody supports everybody else to the hilt, irrespective of the facts. That seems to be the bottom line — you brush my teeth, and I’ll cut your toenails. .’
‘The Camorra,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘A sort of state within a state: no doubt what you say is absolutely right. But for Christ’s sake, they surely don’t have much influence in this day and age. . Apart from in purely academic circles. Appointments and so on. I don’t suppose you’ve started poking your noses into their affairs yet?’
Münster shook his head.
‘We have to try to narrow things down a bit before we get going. Eliminate the most unlikely candidates. There are eleven Succulents who are over eighty — presumably we can exclude them without further ado.’
‘Presumably,’ said Van Veeteren.
‘If we set an age limit at fifty, for instance, that leaves us with forty-three Succulents to investigate. . Although that isn’t the real problem.’
‘What is the real problem?’ wondered Moreno.
‘As I understand it,’ said Münster, ‘and as Reinhart understands it as well, if I interpreted his slurred mumblings correctly, it could well be a mistake to simply jump in and start interrogating them all, one by one. No matter how many we pick out as possible candidates. Reinhart obviously had trouble in extracting the list of members from the top dog, Pro-Vice-Chancellor Kuurtens. If we just go barging in, they might very well keep mum once they realize that we’re after one of their number.’
‘Good Lord,’ said Moreno. ‘What century do they live in?’
‘Not this one in any case,’ said Münster with a sigh. ‘Maybe not the last one either.’
Van Veeteren leaned back and lit a newly rolled cigarette. Münster exchanged glances with Moreno and decided it could well be best to say nothing at the moment. They had been sitting at one of the usual window tables for over an hour now. The Chief Inspector had been provided with all the information he could reasonably need as a basis on which to make a decision, and was immune to any persuasive arguments or ploys by this stage. As far as Münster could judge, at least.
If he felt like joining them in their efforts, he would no doubt do so. If he didn’t, they would simply have to make do with the resources they already had. That was the long and the short of it. Münster looked out of the window and noted that the sun wasn’t shining today either.
‘Anyway,’ said Moreno after a while. ‘That’s the way it is.’
‘So I’ve gathered,’ said Van Veeteren.
‘Is the situation clear to you?’ asked Münster tentatively.
Van Veeteren took another drag at his cigarette.
‘As clear as a Budweiser,’ he said. ‘That’s what it was called, that wishy-washy Yankee piss.’
‘Oh, a Bud, was it?’ said Münster. ‘I have to agree that that’s nothing to write home about. Still, one has to feel sorry for Reinhart. Especially as it’s happened just now.’
Van Veeteren shrugged.
‘There isn’t a good time to get run over by a bus,’ he said. ‘Ah, well, I’ll think about what I’m going to do. Don’t take it for granted that I’ll join you.’
Moreno and Münster nodded in unison, and waited.
‘I’ll drive out to the hospital this evening and have a word with Reinhart. You can tell Hiller that I’ll let him know tomorrow morning what I’ve decided. Is that okay?’
‘Yes, of course,’ said Münster. ‘But we could certainly do with your help. There are several other cases on the go, in parallel to this one of ours, so we’re under quite a bit of pressure. Rooth claims he’s lost a couple of kilos.’
‘That’s a bad omen,’ said Van Veeteren. ‘But as I said, don’t take it for granted that I’ll be joining you.’
He drained his beer glass and checked his watch.
‘Oops,’ he said. ‘It’s high time I opened the shop if we’re going to sell any books today. Thank you for my free lunch.’
‘The pleasure was entirely ours,’ said Inspector Moreno, and received a tap on the head in return.