Hard Rain

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De Gier, ahead of his arrival time, walked slowly to the adjacent gabled mansions that housed the Society's club for prominent members and their affluent guests. There were still a number of blocks ahead. Pleasant spring weather, crisp and clear under a starry sky, did not improve the sergeant's mood. The elegance of Gelder Quay, a long, quiet backwater in the inner city, lined on both sides by silver-colored buildings and partly shrouded by majestic elm trees, didn't soothe him either.

"Sergeant?"

"Now what?" de Gier asked the young man in the maroon velvet suit and the flamboyant necktie, stepping under a streetlight ahead. The young man wore a hat, which he took off. "Like my haircut? The barber must still be sweeping his floor. I lost kilos of hair. The suit belongs to my brother Samuel." He pulled de Gier's sleeve. "Where the hell were you? I've been in and out of the club three times, looking for you. Celine is in the roulette room. I had to keep ducking away, she might recognize me even in this outfit."

"The others haven't arrived?"

"They'll be here soon, I came early. Are you going in now?"

"Sure," de Gier said. "I'll do my part. Leave it to the gigolo, that's all I'm good for."

Cardozo ran alongside de Gier, keeping up with the sergeant's long strides. "Do you know that IJsbreker's paintings are in the club's hallway? They didn't bother to sell the loot. There's a million's worth of art inside-Mondrians, Eschers, Appels, anything. Great shit. They just kept it."

"How do you know it's IJsbreker's stuff?" de Gier asked. "We never saw it."

"Got to be," Cardozo panted. "The Peruvian vases are there too, lined up on a long shelf in the hall. I asked the manager. He says the display only came in a few weeks ago. He doesn't know where from. He says the owners put it up."

"Who are the owners?"

"He didn't say, and I couldn't ask too much. Got to be Fernandus, and that baron, de la Faille, the guy who took IJsbreker's place at the bank."

"Hardly conclusive evidence."

"Good enough, Sergeant. We don't work by the book anymore. Shall we take the art too? That would be fun."

De Gier stopped and admired the three tall mansions ahead, reaching up into the sky from the narrow quaysides and the canal in between. He checked his watch. "I'm still early."

"I'm nervous," Cardozo said. "This is different. Nothing to back us up. You think we can do this?"

"Sure," de Gier said. "You can do it. I'll be upstairs holding Celine's hand. Smothering her with my charm. May be I should knock her down."

"No," Cardozo said.

"Got to knock somebody down," de Gier said. "Where's my black knight? Now the final moment is close. The last goodbye."

"To what?" Cardozo asked.

"To this part of the quest," de Gier said. "I now need to perform a symbolic act. In style. Fight my man. Myself maybe, some form of suicide."

"I'm going crazy too," Cardozo said. "There's quite a crowd inside. City councilmen, that Ronnie Ryder character that the commissaris mentioned, with his dogs and sycophants. Stacks of cash on the table, gambling everywhere, associated hoodlums in suede leather and cowboy boots, a nice selection of lovely ladies. Some show. Posh. A lot of jewels on the ladies. Do we rip them off too?"

"Just take the money," de Gier said. "Do as you're told. We've been through all this, there's a plan. Why are you going crazy?"

Cardozo adjusted his tie. "It's too new for me. There's only the commissaris behind us."

"Maybe that's still too much," de Gier said. "I'm going in."

A Mercedes load of well-dressed, elderly men swooshed through the club's glass revolving doors. De Gier followed.

"Sir?" an athletic black man in an old-fashioned naval officer's uniform asked.

"New member," de Gier said. He was taken to an antique solid-oak table to pay his fee. The hall, with a floor of red and white flagstones, had an Old Masters flavor, with a touch of baroque. The baroque item was a life-size stone angel, dangling from cables under the hallway's arched ceiling. The club's manager, a blond, long-haired gent in a frock coat and striped pants, smoothly accepted de Gier's three new notes.

"Drinks and snacks on the house, sir. If you feel an urge to be connected to a lady, a waiter will take your fee. Feel free to have a good time."

"Oh, yes," de Gier said, "I'll see what I can do for you."

The manager smiled. "All gambling is for cash. In case of trouble, the waiters will take care of things."

"No trouble," de Gier said.

The manager's gold fillings sparkled. "That's good."

De Gier wandered through rooms and corridors, admiring interior decorations. Cream-colored drapes set off niches in the white plaster walls, each niche holding some treasure: a delicate Buddhist statue; a modern sculpture consisting of a bizarre three-dimensional collage of skulls and driftwood; a single semiprecious stone, artfully framed. Oriental rugs graced marble floors. A fountain rained down on a basin where large goldfish with flowing tailfins swam leisurely between waving water plants. Mahogany wainscoting lined gambling rooms where croupiers sang their mantras in French. A tall woman, with black hair cascading down her naked shoulders above a trim satin blue dress, had changed herself to a cherishable object, standing very still with raised arms, one hand holding a tumbler of wine, the other a slice of caviared toast, breathing "Hello" when he passed.

"How're you doing?" de Gier asked. "Seen Celine anywhere?"

The woman unfroze. Her perfume wafted around de Gier. "I could give you a more intense experience. Like to try me out?"

"I would just love to," de Gier said, "but I have to find Celine." The satin woman drifted off, rustling her dress.

"Not helpful," de Gier said. He tried another twisting corridor that ended in a large mirror. De Gier checked his appearance. Good. Perhaps his silk scarf needed adjusting. He did that, but then the image doubled. A tall man, as tall as de Gier, stood next to him, leenng into the mirror too. The double adjusted his tie. De Gier smoothed down his curls. The neighbor did likewise.

"Very nice," the double said softly. "Are you me? Am I you? Do we reflect? Is your name Baron Bart de la Faille too? Did I split and re-form twice, perhaps? A cloned vision? Was it the better brand of cocaine I just tried, or are we, in bare fact, the other way around, and is what I so fondly consider to be myself a mere projection of another phenomenon I haven't as yet met? Are we frightened or overjoyed?"

"Aha," de Gier said. "There you are. You took your time, but I haven't any right now. Where is Celine?"

"Who," the baron asked, "are you?"

"My name?" de Gier asked. "I'll let you know. I'm busy just now."

"We could penetrate each other's bodies," the baron asked. "Turn each other inside out together." He giggled. "Like gloves. Ever try that? Make a left glove out of a right and vice versa?"

De Gier walked off. He tried another door. Slender arms twined around his neck from behind. "That's the ladies', dear, are you drunk?"

"No," de Gier said, trying to twist free.

"You know who I am?" the female voice whispered.

"Celine?"

"What are you doing here?"

She let go, and he turned around. "I came to see you." She pulled his head down and kissed him full on the mouth. "Hmmm."

"Let's go upstairs," de Gier said.

She kissed him again.

He put his hands on her shoulders. "Upstairs? Let me go and I'll pay the waiter."

"No charge," Celine said. "Be my guest. I'll take care of this." She looked into his eyes. "But can we do it a bit later, please? Let me show you around first. Is this the first time you've been here?"

"Yes," de Gier said, pushing her firmly to a staircase. "Never mind the tour. I can't wait."

"But, Rinus…" She half-turned. "What is this? I didn't even know you remembered me. You're always so cool."

"Up, up, up." He grabbed her waist, propelled her up the stairs.

"Let go." She leaned back.

"No," de Gier said.

"I'll yell."

He swung her off her feet and held a hand over her mouth. A door swung open, pushed by his foot. He put her down on the bed.

Celine sat up. "Why the passion? What's the hurry? We don't close until four A.M., we have all night."

"Take off your clothes." De Gier smiled. "Please."

"Let's do this later. Why the rush?"

"Because I want you now." De Gier's large brown eyes shone. "Ever since that party at your house. I keep dreaming of you. Take off your clothes."

Celine's face hardened. "I dreamed of you too, but not like this." She reached for the telephone next to the bed. De Gier caught her wrist. "Don't." His arm pulled back.

"Are you going to hit me?"

"I'll have to," de Gier said. "There's no time to be nice. I'm needed downstairs. Don't worry, this will be quick."

"No!" She talked through her hands.

He sat down next to her. "There's a raid planned for a little later on. The colleagues may need my help."

She shook her head.

"I don't want to mess you up." He caressed her shoulder. "I know just where to hit you, not too hard. It won't hurt much. Please let me."

She edged away from him. He put an arm around her and pulled her back. "Stay away from the phone."

She leaned into his arm and dropped her hands. "Please don't. I won't yell." Celine looked up. "There can't be a raid, you're suspended."

"Who told you?"

"De la Faille. I heard that yesterday. There was a special party here to celebrate the commissaris's downfall."

"The baron doesn't know me."

"He knows of you. Fernandus threw the party. So how can there be a raid? Were Fernandus and the baron just showing off?"

"No," de Gier said. "I just met the baron. The baron is my man."

"Your man?"

"Bad guy," de Gier said. "I need a bad guy. Do you think the baron looks like me?"

"Bart has piggy eyes." She touched his cheek. "You have beautiful eyes, so warm."

"Same size," de Gier said. "Same mustache. Same type of hair. Does he do judo?"

"Fencing," Celine said. "Bart is good at fencing. All-around sportsman, that's what he says he is. Golf, polo, flies a glider."

"Good. Good." De Gier grinned.

"What do you want to do with him, Rinus? You aren't gay."

De Gier sighed. "Please, Celine, let me put you out."

She turned away. "Undo my zipper."

"No, not that."

"You don't want to?"

"No time."

She looked at her watch. "Isn't it early for a raid? The real stuff happens later, that's when all the big gamblers come in. Tonight there may be a special event. Here, I'll do it myself." She got up and stepped out of her dress. "Want a bath? Shall we push bubbles at each other? We've got nice soap here." She pulled him over to a sunken marble tub in the far corner of the room.

"Later?" de Gier said. "What event?"

"They're going to get Ronnie Ryder for all he's still worth," Celine said. "Ronnie likes me. I've been bringing him luck. If I don't show, he'll probably want to leave. They may come looking for me, but we've still got a few hours. They won't really push him until he's good and drunk. It usually takes a while."

"Aha," de Gier said. "So we wait?"

She nodded. "Yes. Let's have a bath. Would you care for a drink first? You drank bourbon that night. The night I stripped? When you wouldn't look at me?"

De Gier thought.

"Don't you remember? I did it just for you."

"Sure," de Gier said. "That was very nice. Great party."

"Can I phone for a drink?"

He reached for the phone. "Let me do it. What's the number of this room?"

"Seven."

"Room seven," de Gier said. "A bottle of bourbon, two glasses, and ice."

"Take off your jacket and shirt," Celine said. "I love your chest. I saw it once at that judo match at Headquarters. Let me see it again. It'll look more natural when she brings in the drinks."

De Gier obliged.

"The name is Susan," the girl who brought in the drinks said to de Gier. She wore a miniskirt and a clinging T-shirt. "My, don't you have a body! Can I stay? I'm the special tonight. Half-price for the trio."

"No, thanks," de Gier said. "The lady and I are friends. Haven't seen each other for a while. Some other time would be nice."

"Susan might have stayed for free," Celine said. "How foolish of you. She's a hobby whore, likes to wear wet shirts. Didn't you like those long legs? Susan works as a secretary, just conies in one night a week."

"No," de Gier said. "I came for you."

"To knock me out?"

De Gier poured the whiskey. "It'd be better for you if I did."

"But I could be on your side," Celine said. "This place isn't really what I want. The customers are always drunk, they slosh and slobber so."

"Your health," de Gier said. "That's what you get. You're planning to leave?"

"Your health." Celine raised her glass. "Could be."

"Know what you'll do instead?"

"Not yet."

"How's your husband?"

"Unhappy too," Celine said. "He phones. The estate near Marbella is a mess. Some slob owns it. Ten Haaf, dopes up all the time. Guldemeester is the janitor up there, he doesn't like that."

"Does he want to come back?"

"Maybe."

"And you'll be together again?"

"No," Celine said. "It wouldn't work. Come into the bath."

De Gier groaned as he lowered himself into the foam.

"Oh," Celine said. "That's right, Fernandus said you broke your ribs. Do they hurt a lot?"

"Some." de Gier said. "Please. Celine. I can't stay here too long. I'll have to go down in a while. If they knew that you met me here, you might be in worse trouble. If I knock you out. you'll be all right."

She pushed her legs against his. "I'll drown if you knock me out in the bath." She rose from the water, twisting her torso, lifted her long blond hair, allowed it to fall down again. She swayed her hips a little, dipped foam, and covered her breasts. "You like me doing this?"

"Sure," de Gier said. "Your figure is perfect."

She stepped out of the bath and brought his drink. "You trust me now? I could have tried to run away. I won't do that, Til go down with you and do my tricks on Ronnie, make things more spectacular for you. What's this raid? Are you going to make arrests?"

De Gier left the bath too. "We can't," he said.

"So you are suspended. Fernandus and the baron weren't showing off."

"It's not an official raid. We're after the Society's money."

She looked at his clothes lying on the bed, and the pistol, conspicuous on the pale blue shirt. "They let you keep your gun? I've got a gun too." She clipped her pocketbook open and took out a Derringer, pointing it at his chest. "Enough of this now, put up your hands."

De Gier sipped his drink.

She came closer. "This is a. 22 Magnum, no safety. All I have to do is pull the trigger. I've learned to handle this thing, it's very effective."

"Did you remember to load it?"

"Of course."

"You probably forgot," de Gier said. "Give it to me. It's empty, I can see from here." He put out his hand. She dropped the gun and he caught it, broke it open, and watched its two cartridges bounce on the bed. He pushed them back into the chambers, snapped the little pistol back together, and gave it back. "You're right."

Celine laughed. "Fool. There's no way to see if this thing is loaded until you open it."

"Tricked you," de Gier said.

"And you let me have it again? What if I shoot you?"

"You won't."

She sat on the bed. "You really weren't afraid? The girls at Headquarters say that you have no nerves. They all adore you. Is it true that you live alone with your cat and that you read a lot and never get involved?"

"How can I live alone if I live with my cat?"

She dropped the derringer into her bag. "Tell me more about the raid. Who's in on it?"

"Eight of us."

"The commissaris too? Does he want to steal the Society's cash?"

"I don't think he'll keep it," de Gier said. "He's gunning for Fernandus. Some old trouble between the two of them. I haven't quite caught on yet, but it doesn't matter. I'm doing my own thing now."

"But you're with the commissaris?"

"So far," de Gier said, "but I don't think he's with me."

She sat down gingerly on his knee. "Shall we fly away?" Her fingertips gently traced his ribs. "I have such a good fantasy with you. You're an angel, just like the angel here in the hall, and you swoop down and pick me up and then we're off, and we never come down again, your wings take us higher and higher and we waft away until we aren't anywhere anymore."

"That's good?" de Gier asked, softly stroking her hair.

"I wouldn't mind not being anywhere. Would you?"

He pointed at the bottle standing on the edge of the bath. She fetched it and came back. "You don't really care for me much, do you? We could have sex. Would that hurt you?"

"Probably," de Gier said.

She poured whiskey. "If you lay on your back and I was very gentle? It's always so quick here, I need more time. Jane says you're slow."

"You discuss my technique?" de Gier asked. "I thought Constable Jane was shy. She's always shy with me."

"We act a lot," Celine said. "But I do think Jane likes you. So do I. Toine prefers the commissaris. I like him too. Do you know that Toine is with Fernandus now? Isn't that rather a loss? Younger men threaten Toine, but I didn't think she would go for Fernandus. He's all twisted inside."

"The commissaris isn't?"

"Is he?" Celine asked. "You know him best. Guldemeester was always jealous of you. Teacher's pet."

"No,"deGiersaid.

She pushed him onto his back. "Do you mind? I won't touch your ribs. What do you mean, 'no'? You're not teacher's pet?"

"The commissaris isn't twisted," de Gier said. "And if he is, that's up to him. I don't consider myself his student anymore. Ouch."

"Sorry," Celine said. "Okay now? What if I bend back?"

"Better, go ahead."

"Thanks," Celine said when she disengaged herself. "You were very patient. Did you like it too?"

"Didn't you notice?"

"Yes, but it could have been automatic."

"It wasn't," de Gier said. "Shall we go downstairs?"

She dressed. "You don't still think I'll tell on you?"

De Gier had trouble bending down to pull up his pants. Celine helped. "You'd be in a mess if I did," she said. "There are six waiters and the doorman downstairs, all of them fighters, and the manager throws knives. There's the baron too."

"The all-around sportsman," de Gier said. "I could have the lights turned off at the right moment. There must be a main switch, do you know where it is?"

"I'll show you." She nestled into his arm. "Hold me a while."

The hug lasted until she stirred.

"But what will you tell them afterward?" de Gier asked.

"I don't know yet."

He rested his chin on her head. "Tell them I turn you on and that you thought I came for you. You don't have to recognize the others in our team, they're supposed to be disguised."