Hard Rain

\\\\\ 25 /////

"Jan?" The Commissaris's wife whispered. "Jan? Jan?"

He grunted.

"Turn over. You're squeaking. You're having a bad dream."

He turned over. The dream continued. The commissaris sat on Miss Antoinette's lap, or Miss Bakker's lap, they were both the same woman. The woman kissed him and her finger tickled his stomach. "Poor little Jannie," the woman said. She was very beautiful and he reached out to touch her full standing breasts. It was very hot in kindergarten, nobody wore any clothes. "Poor little Jannie," the woman whispered. "Never mind, dear. Nasty Willem is to blame, he told you that I said you could watch the mice, didn't he? And then he told me that you were watching the mice without permission. I'm sorry, I know it now. It was all Willem's fault."

The mice had come out of the terrarium and were dancing around the schoolroom, wearing pointed paper hats. One had Chief Inspector Halba's overbite and another wore a blazer and slacks, like Commissaris Voort. A chief constable mouse tried to climb the woman's leg but she managed to kick it off. Little Willem Fernandus was being whipped in a corner, by Adjutant Grijpstra, who impassively made his leather thong swoosh. De Gier looked out of a window. His eyes twitched every time the whip struck Willem's little pink bottom.

A bell rang and the dream began to shred but the commissaris was still holding on to the woman's breast, which had turned green and very soft, a pasty mass that began to pour over his body and was getting into his mouth. "Lobster feces," a voice boomed. "Please don't consume this substance. We'll speak to the cook."

"Jan? Jan?"

"Yes," the commissaris said.

"Telephone. It's been ringing for a while. Are you going down?"

The telephone had stopped by the time the commissaris got to it, but started up again when he was halfway up the stairs. His leg hurt and he dragged it down the steps once more. "Yes?"

"Sir? De Gier. Could you come over to Wilhelmina Hospital? I can't pick you up. Your car is being dusted for fingerprints right now."

"Anyone hurt?"

"Two," de Gier said. "Heul and Celine. Halba couldn't be reached, but Chief Inspector Rood is here. He'll send over a patrol car."

"I see," the commissaris said. "I see. But I have Carl and Mrs. Jongs here, and Katrien of course."

"I have phoned Grijpstra, sir, he's on his way to you. You want Cardozo too?"

"Yes," the commissaris said. "It'll make Katrien feel better. All right, Rinus, I'll get dressed."

A half hour later the commissaris walked over to the hospital's reception desk and was guided to a room by a young nurse. De Gier opened the door. "Celine just died, sir. Heul's in a deep coma. He won't make it, the doctor says."

"Let's see him."

The thin body on a table gurgled and snored. A young man in a white coat watched the patient. "Heavy overdose, I've seen a lot of them now. The needle was still in his arm. Heroin, I'm sure, but the laboratory will confirm that tomorrow. We're short of staff tonight."

"An addict?" the commissaris asked.

The doctor shook his head. "Not of heroin. I checked his nose and I would say the patient has used a lot of cocaine, but there are no marks on the arms or anywhere else on the body. May have been his first try."

"Where did you find him?" the commissaris asked de Gier.

"In your car, sir, parked in front of my apartment building. About an hour ago. The door lock was broken. Heul was slumped over the wheel."

The commissaris looked at his watch. "Where were you going at three o'clock in the morning?"

"I had a call, sir. The police found Celine in the street, next to a crushed bicycle. She was still alive and mentioned my name. A witness saw her being run down by a black car."

"Mrs. Guldemeester was on her way to you?"

"So it seems." De Gier swayed. "Whoa," the doctor said. "Sit down." He slapped de Gier's face lightly. "Hold it now." The commissaris shook de Gier by the shoulders. "Hello?"

"Yes," de Gier said. "Sorry. I'm here. Rather a lot of blood. Her chest is caved in. According to the witness the car hit her twice. The second time it reversed."

"A lot of internal damage," the doctor said. "Horrible, blood coming from the mouth. I don't understand this very well. What was the lady doing on a bicycle at that time of the night? She was very well dressed. Drunk perhaps? I did smell alcohol."

"I'd like to see her," the commissaris said.

Heul's labored breath was slowing down as de Gier and the commissaris left the room. "Wait here," the commissaris said in the corridor.

Celine's body was in the room next door. The commissaris observed the corpse in silence. The head was twisted to the side, and an arm dangled off the stretcher. Celine's mouth hung open and her eyes stared past the commissaris. "Yes," the commissaris said. "Sure. Could be my fault, you know." He touched his chest and bowed. "Have a good journey."

"Funny," he said when he joined de Gier in the corridor again. "I always think that they've gone somewhere when I see dead bodies. I feel pleased for them. They're out of this. Life's rather a mess, very unreal. All this pain here can't be seriously meant. Whatever comes later must be a lot better. Surely it'll have to be made up to us. A bad break here, and then a holiday somewhere. There's no proof of that, of course."

"Sir?" de Gier said, holding on to a wall.

"Here, hold my arm." The commissaris and de Gier shuffled along. Farther along the corridor, a middle-aged man in a striped suit that bulged around his paunch was making notes on a pad. "Rood?" the commissaris said.

The man looked up. "Hello, sir. Sorry to disturb you about this, but both bodies are known to you, I hear. What do you think happened?"

"A continuation of the IJsbreker case," the commissaris said.

"Which was closed?"

"Yes, Chief Inspector, and reopened by me. Male subject, Heul, was going to implicate others and must have been liquidated before we delved too deeply, and I think the same goes for the lady. A shot was fired into my garden this afternoon intended to hit my pet turtle. We have reason to believe that Celine Guldemeester was forced somehow to accompany the rifleman. Perhaps she wanted to tell us about that. She liked de Gier."

"And she was on her way to the sergeant's apartment," Rood said. "There is no simpler explanation? An affair? A jealous lover?"

"The suspect I have in mind could be gay," the commissaris said.

Rood pocketed his note pad. "I'd better stay out of this, then. You're in charge of this case."

"I'm off duty," the commissaris said.

Rood shook his head. "You're not, you know. Haven't you been told? State Detection could find nothing on you. Me and some others have been exercising pressure on our dimwit chief. You're back in business, sir." He tapped de Gier on the shoulder. "You too, Sergeant. You're feeling okay? Bit pale around the nose? Too much blood for your taste?"

"Just tired," de Gier said. "Forgot to eat tonight. A bit busy."

"I shouldn't be here at all," Chief Inspector Rood said. "Halba's job, really. Seems he doesn't sleep at home much. That's another rotten apple, sir; isn't he due for a transfer? The farther the better."

"I'll be going home," the commissaris said. "Why don't you take care of the report? Would you mind doing that?"

"Overdose and accident, sir?"

"Let's leave it at that for now. No use alerting the papers. Keep it quiet, Chief Inspector."

"Sir," Rood said. "Your car is in the yard."