Death of a Hawker

10

"Hello," De Grier said.

"Hello-oh," a sugary voice answered.

"Minette?"

"Yes, darling."

"I am not your darling," De Gier said and frowned at Nellie, who was watching him from the other end of the small bar. Nellie was smiling delightedly and Grijpstra was grinning. Grijpstra had taken off his coat and tie and was sitting in a corner of the room, near a window which he had opened and which showed a view of a small courtyard where a row of sparrows were lolling about on a wall, their tiny beaks open and their wings half-spread. Grijpstra was puffing and wiping his face with a large dirty white handkerchief. He looked happy, in spite of the heat. He had set up the two appointments with Abe Rogge's girlfriends and would be off in a little while to fetch the commissaris, and meanwhile he had nothing to do but watch de Gier.

"I am not your darling," de Gier was saying. "I am Detective-Sergeant de Gier, Amsterdam Municipal Police, and I am coming out to see you to ask you a few questions. Nothing serious, strictly routine."

"Police?" the sugary voice asked. "They are darlings too. I have a nice client who is a police officer. Maybe you are like him. When are you coming to see me, darling? Right now?"

"Right now," de Gier said and made a face at the telephone, "and I want to see your friend Alice too. Would you ask her to come over to your place? I have her telephone number here and the first three numbers are the same as yours. She must live close to you."

"But surely," Minette said. "She lives in the same building, two floors up. I'll ask her to come and we'll do a double number for you."

"No," de Gier said, "don't put yourself out, dear. I just want some simple answers to some simple questions. I'll be there in fifteen minutes. Put come clothes on."

Grijpstra chuckled and de Gier made a gesture to shut him up.

"What sort of clothes, darling? I have a nice uniform with shiny buttons and leather boots, and a little whip. Or would you prefer me to dress up in lace? Or my black evening dress perhaps? It has a beautiful zipper and it comes off if you…"

"NO," de Gier almost shouted. "What's the address?" "Alkemalaan Five-O-Three, darling, don't shout at me." The voice was still dripping with sweetness.

"I'll be there," de Gier said.

"An idiot," Minette said to herself, as she daintily replaced the dark red plastic telephone on her bedside table, "and rude too. Now what does he want? He wouldn't be hunting whores, would he? That other policeman also said he wanted to ask questions, but he came for the usual thing and stayed the night. They are all idiots."

"Afternoon," de Gier said. "I am Sergeant de Gier. I phoned about a quarter of an hour ago. Are you Minette?"

"No, honey," the small girl said. "I am Alice, Minette is waiting for you inside. Come in, dear."

She put a hand on his arm and tugged gently. "My," she sighed, "aren't you handsome!"

"Yes," de Gier said. "I am a beautiful man." He looked into the smiling eyes and noted they were green. Cat's eyes. The face was triangular, like a praying mantis'. He had been looking at a color photograph of a praying mantis in a book he had found in the Public Library. The insect had looked weirdly attractive, the materialization of a subconscious fear with a lovely face but with long arms and claws. A predatory insect, the caption had said. An entity to be careful with.

The girl turned and he followed her into the small hall. A little girl, she wouldn't be much more than five feet high, but well shaped and well dressed in short velvet pants and a loose flowing blouse. Her bare feet were tiny. An imp, a prancing imp. He guessed her to be in her late twenties but the smooth face hadn't shown signs of wear and tear. Maybe she hadn't been in the game too long. He admired the round tight bottom and the black glossy hair, done up in a bun.

"Now that is Minette," Alice said, turning around and stepping back, so that he would enter the room ahead of her. "Here's your sergeant, Minette."

"Woo," Minette said. "Isn't he lovely?"

De Gier felt relieved. Minette was nothing special. A plump girl, rather wide in the hips and with a painted doll's face. Minette sat on a low settee, dressed in a wrap which slipped a little; one breast was visible. De Gier shuddered imperceptibly. The breast looked like the gelatin puddings his mother used to serve on birthdays. They came on a white plate, dripping with a thick cream sauce.

Take your coat off, sergeant," Minette said in the same voice she had used on the telephone. "You were so abrupt when you rang up. Relax, that's what this place is for. Have a drink, come and sit next to me. What would you like? Get him a beer, Alice. We have some really cold beer in the fridge.''

"No," de Gier said. "No drink. I am working. Thanks."

"Have a cigar," Minette said. "Do we still have those long thick cigars, Alice? They were in a big box, with an Indian on the lid, remember?"

Alice brought the box, opened it, put it on a low table next to the corner chair, which de Gier had chosen judging it to be the safest place in the room, and sat down on the carpet, within touching distance of his leg.

"You will have a cigar, won't you, sergeant?"

"Yes," de Gier said. "Please."

The small white hand touched the box, slid over it and picked out a cigar. She caressed it, looking at him languidly, and then rapidly peeled off its plastic skin and licked its end, darting the tip of her tongue in and out. Her small regular teeth showed when she saw that he was watching her. Her long eyelashes came down slowly and then, smiling wickedly, she stuck the cigar into her mouth, turned it around and bit off its end.

"Here you are, sergeant." She lit a match.

"Yes," de Gier said, "thanks. You two girls were with a Mr. Bezuur last night we were told."

"It's hot in here," Alice said. The air conditioner is on the blink. They keep on fiddling with it but it never works when you want it to. You should get a new one, Minette. Do you mind if I take off my blouse, sergeant?"

She took it off before he could say anything. She wore nothing underneath. The breasts were pretty, very small and firm. She stretched and untied her hair, which flowed down her shoulders, and she adjusted the strands so that her nipples were covered. De Gier stared.

"Yes," he said. "It's rather hot in here. Outside too. Putting the windows down doesn't help much either. Now how long were you two with Mr. Bezuur, yesterday? Do you remember the exact times? When did you get to his house and when did you leave?"

"Bezuur?" Alice asked. "Who is Bezuur?"

"That's Klaas, of course," Minette said. "The fat fellow. You were all over him all night, remember?"

"Oh," Alice said. "The piggy man. You were all over him, not me. I only danced about while he drank, and ate. He ate a whole ham. Bah. I am glad he wasn't pawing me. Why don't you get some of your clothes off, sergeant? I can sit on your lap, you'll hardly feel my weight."

"You don't need me in here," Minette said and pouted. "Do you want me to go into the other room?"

"No," de Gier said quickly, "no, no. Stay right here, and I am not taking my clothes off either. For God's sake, can't you two answer a simple question? When did you get to his bouse and when did you leave?"

"Now, now," Alice said, and moved closer. "Don't be uptight, sergeant. We won't make you pay, you are safe in here. Nobody will mind if you stay an hour. It isn't the right day for work, is it?"

"When…" de Gier asked, and half-rose from his chair.

"We got there about nine last night and we left early this morning. Around five o'clock it was, I think. A taxi took us home."

"And Bezuur was with you all die time?"

"Sure."

"Weren't you asleep some of the time?"

"He was there while I slept," Minette said. "Right next to me."

"Sure?"

"Yes. He put his fat leg on me, I couldn't get it off. It stopped the circulation in my ankle and I had to massage it."

De Gier looked down. Alice had been inching herself toward him and was now rubbing herself against his leg.

"Yes," she said. "He was there. I was asleep on the couch some of the time bat I saw him when I woke up. He was there just like you are here now. Sit back, sergeant, I am going to sit on your lap."

"No," de Gier said, and got up.

She followed him to the door. He was standing with his back against the wall, holding his notebook.

"I want your full name and Minette's name. I'll have to write a report."

"Is that piggy man in any sort of trouble?" Alice was standing very close again.

"Not really. We just want to know where he was last night."

She waited while he was making his notes, gave him their names and dates of birth.

"Profession?" de Gier asked.

"You know!" Alice said. "We are callguis."

"Prostitutes," de Gier wrote down. "I've got to go now. Thanks for the information."

"Come back," Alice whispered quickly. "I live two floors up, number five-seven-four. Give me a ring first.

I won't charge you."

"Sure," de Gier said and slipped through the door.

"Like hell," he said a little later, cruelly pushing the gear lever of the Volkswagen. Like bloody hell, a policeman-friend to help her out when she gets into trouble. But she made me feel randy, the little bitch. Just the sort of thing for a day like this.

He had to stop for a traffic light and gloomily watched a big Mercedes which had pulled up next to the Volkswagen. There were two middle-aged men in the back of the car, dressed in suits and ties. They were both smoking cigars. De Gier saw one of them blow out a little cloud of smoke, which disappeared immediately, sucked away by the airconditioning in the car. He looked at the soggy end of his own cigar, and tossed it out of the window, watching it spark as it hit the tarmac. The driver of the Mercedes winked at him. He had pushed his cap to the back of his head, and was loosening his tie.

"Hot, eh?" he asked.

De Gier nodded.

The two men in the back of the car were laughing about something.

"Your passengers are cool enough," de Gier said.

"They are cool," the driver said, indicating the glass partitioning with his thumb. "I am not."

The light changed and the Mercedes accelerated.

"Bounders," de Gier thought. Two bounders and one little sucker to whizz 'em around."

He was thinking about Alice again. Grijpstra had his Nellie. He forced himself to think about something else. He saw the spiked ball, trying to visualize its flight as it approached Abe Rogge's window. Someone was directing the ball, using a device. But what was it? He tried to visualize the device but it blurred as he focused.