He began to run. Grijpstra ran after him. They were close to the beach and they reached it within a few minutes. Buisman jumped up and down and waved his arms and a responding movement was seen on the vessel. A rubber dinghy was lowered from the launch and a uniformed policeman rowed to the shore.
Buisman took off his boots and waded into the sea. Grijpstra sighed and followed him. Again he suffered the unpleasant sensation of thick mud oozing between his toes.
"Morning, adjutant," the sergeant in the dinghy said to Buisman.
He shook Grijpstra's hand.
"Grijpstra, Amsterdam police."
"Good," the sergeant said. "I have a Telex for you. An urgent Telex. I knew the adjutant was out here with you this morning. Here you are."
Grijpstra read the Telex.
"Go to Schiermonnikoog at once and make contact with Ramon Scheffer. Scheffer is half-brother of Maria van Buren. Caution important. Scheffer is said to be religious fanatic."
The Telex was dated a day back, came from Curacao, was forwarded by Amsterdam Headquarters and was signed by the commissaris.
15
"Here you are," Rammy Scheffer said, and De Gier thanked him and bit into the thick slice of bread. He chewed for a while.
"Do you like the cheese?" Rammy asked.
"Yes," de Gier said hesitantly, and continued to chew.
"What is it?"
"Goat's cheese. I have got two goats, milk them myself."
De Gier chewed on for a while.
"Ah," he said. "I say! Over there! What's that bird?"
Rammy looked and de Gier took the cheese off the bread and threw it into a bush. He quickly stuffed the bread into his mouth.
"That's an oystercatcher," Rammy said, looking back at de Gier. "Didn't you know? There are thousands of them on die island. Apart from the gulls and the ducks they are the most popular birds over here."
"I'd forgotten," de Gier said.
"Are you interested in birds?"
"Of course," de Gier said, swallowing the last of his bread and hopefully holding up his cup for more coffee but Rammy's flask was empty.
"Good," Rammy said. "If more people were interested in birds we might succeed in keeping a few around. The way it's going now we'll soon say goodbye to the last of them. They are installing new drainpipes, I hear, as if the sea isn't dirty enough already. Every day I try to clean the beaches of this reserve but there is no end to the plastic bottles and the ice cream cups, and now we'll have industrial dirt as well."
"Yes," de Gier said. "Terrible."
"Your friend, is he a birdwatcher too?"
"Sure," de Gier said.
"He wasn't watching the dance of the cocks. It's a rare sight; even I, who am here everyday, don't see it often."
"He hurt his foot," de Gier said, "ripped his toe on a piece of tin or a broken bottle. I think he wanted to sit and rest a little."
"I see," Rammy said, sliding the strap of the shotgun off his shoulder, and balancing the weapon on his lap.
The siren shrieked and de Gier jumped up. "Hell," he said, "what's that?"
Rammy had jumped as well, staring toward the sea. "A boat," he said, "a boat in trouble perhaps. Ran aground probably. Let's go and see."
He pointed and de Gier began to run.
De Gier arrived at the beach.
"You!" Grijpstra said when he saw de Gier coming out of the bush. "What are you doing here? Where is Rammy?"
De Gier was panting. "Behind me somewhere. Where's the boat?"
"Over there." Grijpstra pointed at the police launch, floating quietly a quarter of a mile offshore.
"What's the matter with her?"
"Nothing," Grijpstra said. "Where is Rammy?"
"How should I know?"
"You lost him?"
De Gier gaped at Grijpstra and the adjutant. The sergeant had reached them as well now.
"Fool," Grijpstra said sadly. "He is the man we want and you had him in your hands."
"What… T de Gier began and gave up.
"He doesn't know, Grijpstra," Adjutant Buisman said.
"Doesn't know what?" de Gier asked.
"Never mind," Grijpstra said, "you are a fool anyway, you should have known. Shall we try to follow him, Buisman?"
"No. Rammy knows the reserve better than we do. We may as well sit down somewhere here and think for a while."
"WHAT…?" de Gier began again.
"All right," Buisman said, "show him the Telex, Grijpstra."
De Gier read the Telex, and immediately lost his temper.
"So how should / have known he is the man we are looking for. / was talking to a little fellow in a green hat who gave me a sandwich. Hey!"
He interrupted himself. "He had a shotgun!"
"So?" Grijpstra asked.
"He could have shot me," de Gier said. "He took it off his shoulder while he was talking to me. He suspected something."
"Nonsense," Grijpstra said. "He thought we were bird-watchers."
De Gier stared at Grijpstra.
"Birdwatchers! You weren't watching any birds. You were sitting on a log groaning and mumbling to yourself while the rare cocks were doing their sublime prance. That's what made him suspicious."
"I had watched them already," Grijpstra said. "I was resting. Even birdwatchers rest."
"Yes. And then you sneaked off with Buisman."
"I was telling Grijpstra that Rammy could be his man," Buisman said. "I had remembered that Rammy can throw a knife."
"You see!" de Gier shouted, "and you didn't warn me. You left me sitting with a dangerous murderer holding a shotgun in his hands and now you tell me I am a fool."
"Yes," Grijpstra said soothingly, "true. You could have been a dead fool. You should be grateful."
De Gier took a deep breath. The adjutant patted him on the shoulder.
"There, there," Buisman said.
"Oh, never mind him," Grijpstra said, "he always exaggerates."
"Exaggerates?" de Gier shouted.
"Of course," Buisman said, "I have known Rammy Sheffer for years. He isn't a violent man. He proved it, didn't he? He ran away. He could have shot you but he didn't. He didn't even threaten you."
"He threw a knife into his sister's back," de Gier said.
"Perhaps he did. It hasn't been proved."
"Perhaps we should try to catch him," Grijpstra said. "Where can he be? He wouldn't try to hide in this swamp, would he?"
"No," the water-police sergeant who, so far, had contented himself with watching die scene and rolling himself a cigarette, said quietly. "He won't even try to hide on the island. He is a sailor and he has a boat."
"A boat," Grijpstra said, but the rest of his words were drowned in a deafening roar of sudden noise. The noise was above them and sail increasing in volume. The four men ducked instinctively.
"They are at it again," the sergeant said when the noise had subsided. The jet fighter was only a speck on the horizon now.
"Fooee," Grijpstra said, "what a racket. Nice quiet island you have here."
"They only do it twice a week now," Buisman said. "Starfighters. They practice all day, shooting their cannon at targets that have been set up for them on the next island. Sometimes they do a bit of bombing as well. They always come over this part of the island. It used to be much worse but our mayor protested to the Air Force."
"You were saying?" de Gier asked.
"Ah yes," Grijpstra said. "Rammy has a boat, the sergeant says, but so have we. There she is. A nice fast police launch. Let's get aboard."
"Which way do you want me to go?" the sergeant said.
"To wherever he parks his boat, of course."
The sergeant shook his head. "I don't know where his boat is. She isn't in the harbor where she should be. He took her out last week. She may be in any of several places now and if he is aboard he may be sailing in a lot of different directions. We would be very lucky if we caught up with him."