Outsider in Amsterdam

\\\\\ 18 /////

The two detectives who had been in the old car took charge of de Kater and drove off. Van Meteren appeared in the open door, grinning.

"Neat job," the chief inspector said, "very neat, van Meteren."

"It was a pleasure, sir." The Papuan laughed. "I don't think he suspected anything at all."

"Thanks to you," Grijpstra said. "I was very close to you, you know. I had sneaked into the back part of the corridor but you couldn't see me, it's very dark in there. I overheard the last part of your and de Kater's conversation. Perfect acting on your part, congratulations."

"Yes," van Meteren said, "I heard you, I thought de Kater would hear you as well but he was concentrating too much on the money, and on the dope, of course."

"Did he pay up?" the chief inspector asked.

Van Meteren patted his jacket. "The lot. He tried to pay less but I wouldn't have it. He was armed although he didn't say so, but I think that he must have suspected me of being armed as well."

He produced a fat brown envelope and gave it to the chief inspector.

"Here you are, sir, notes of a hundred guilders. He said he didn't have smaller notes. Twenty thousand, I counted the amount very carefully."

The chief inspector slipped the envelope into his inside pocket.

"Thanks."

"That's a lot of cash to carry around," one of the detectives said, "and a gun as well. That's the trouble with these sugar merchants, they all carry pistols nowadays. They have become proper highwaymen and before you know they put a hole into you and off you are for a few months, eating porridge and mashed vegetables in a dreary little hospital room."

"Part of the game, mate," Grijpstra said kindly. "Are we going home, sir?"

"Might as well," the chief inspector said.

"A moment," van Meteren said. "If you don't mind I would like to talk to you, sir, and to Grijpstra and de Gier. In the house, perhaps."

"Sure. I would suggest that the other three have a quiet beer in the Haarlemmerstraat. There is a reasonable pub on the corner, run by Aunt Jane, that fat lady with the red hair. I'll meet you later in there, and we can have a final beer together."

"Sir," the detectives said.

"So?" the chief inspector asked. They were standing in what had once been the bar of the Hindist Society. Van Meteren faced them from behind the bar and the police officers, after looking around, settled themselves on bar stools.

"Three beers," de Gier said.

"Sorry," van Meteren said, "no beer, but there is some coke and lemonade here and I can clean a few glasses."

"That'll be nice," Grijpstra said.

Van Meteren washed and wiped four glasses and opened four bottles of cola.

"The place is still complete," de Gier said.

"Not quite. The draft beer has been taken out; it won't keep, I think," van Meteren said, "but the furniture and everything is still here. De Kater could probably have sold the lot for a good price; he might have auctioned it. There are a lot of new pubs opening up in town."

"Silly man," the chief inspector said, "a silly man taking a silly risk. But we have got him now. A pity we can't grab the other two but they won't last either. They are bound to slip up one of these days and we can catch them like rotten plums falling off the tree."

"Brr," de Gier said. "I don't like this stuff."

"Spit it out," van Meteren said. "I have some soda here. The other two, you say, sir. I would like to talk about them."

He opened another bottle and gave it to de Gier. "Here, have another glass as well."

"You mean Beuzekom and his friend?" the chief inspector asked.

"Yes sir. Perhaps you won't catch them. I got to know them and especially Beuzekom is very intelligent. They won't stay in the game, not when he feels that he has made enough. They'll go to Spain and dabble in real estate and become respectable. If you want to catch them it should be right now."

"We'll have to be quick," Grijpstra said. "The newspaper vultures haven't smelled anything yet but they will soon and once they honk the news around Beuzekom and Company will go into cover and we'll never flush them."

"There is my arrest as well," van Meteren said. "They might not find out about de Kater until you want them to find out but that chase on the Usselmeer was quite spectacular, spectacular enough to make headlines."

"Not yet," the chief inspector said. "I have seen the papers. You got into the harbor of Monnikendam at the right time. The vultures were all fast asleep. What we did here tonight is dangerous, however. The newspapers have patrols in the city and they pay for every tip, in case the patrol misses out. If somebody in the neighborhood noticed the commotion the game is up."

"So we'll have to be quick," van Meteren said. "I am glad you agree. I suggest that I phone Beuzekom now. He should be in. It's Sunday. He drinks on Saturday and rests on Sunday. I'll ask him to come here. We still have the heroin, it can go back into the statue. We can play the same game."

He took a sip and watched the three men on the other side of the bar.

De Gier began to grin.

"You like the idea, de Gier?" the chief inspector asked.

"Yes sir. A lovely idea, too good to work almost. Twice in one evening, what a beautiful thought."

"Grijpstra?"

"Lovely," Grijpstra said.

"We don't have enough men for a proper trap," the chief inspector said.

"I'll fetch the beer drinkers."

"Right, de Gier. Perhaps I should telephone the commissaris first."

The chief inspector walked to the phone, but hesitated. "Perhaps not. He is sick. And he approved the first trap."

Nobody said anything.

"Right," the chief inspector said.

"I'll fetch those jokers in the pub while you phone Beuzekom," de Gier said to Van Meteren.

"Yes, but get them quickly. If Beuzekom answers I'll tell him to come right away. Fetch the others but don't come in while I phone; I'll tap on the window when I am done."

"Go ahead," the chief inspector said.

De Gier left and van Meteren dialed the number; he knew it by heart.

"Beuzekom," the phone said.

"Evening Beuz, this is van Meteren."

"Ha," Beuzekom said, surprised, "good to hear your voice. Haven't seen you for a while, how are you? Still in business or has everything died since Piet left us?"

"Still in business Beuz, and how are you two?"

"Well, what can I tell you? We are all right, I suppose, but Ringma has been annoying me lately. He mopes about all the time. We should go on holiday but we have been spoiled. Holidays cost a lot of money these days, the sun has become expensive when you are used to four-star hotels."

"You sound as if business has been bad."

"There's always the small trade," Beuzekom said. "There have been some supplies but some of it is rubbish, it looks all right but it isn't and it is hard to see the difference. If they get any cleverer I'll have to hire a chemical engineer and install a laboratory. They can even imitate the smell now."

"Did they fool you?"

"Not yet, but they will one day."

"And the real business?"

"Sugar, you mean?" Beuzekom asked. "Yes, well, nothing doing. Can't get it. Whatever happenned to that lot Piet was going to give us? He didn't take it with him so it must still be around."

"Yes," van Meteren said.

"You are serious? Is that why you phone me?"

"Yes."

"Splendid," Beuzekom said. "Excellent fellow! You know I am in the market. What's your price?"

"You are lucky," van Meteren said. "I've got it and it's for sale. I never read the papers so I don't know about inflation, you can have it at the same price."

"The price Piet wanted?"

"Yes."

"Same quantity, same quality?"

"Yes."

"One hundred and twenty thousand?"

"That's it."

"One hundred and twenty thousand," Beuzekom said softly.

"Yes. You can bring it now and I'll give you the goods. But only if you come now. I am sitting right on top of uie goods and you should be sitting right on top of the money. You had it then and I am sure you haven't spent it."

"Why right now?"

Van Meteren laughed.

"I don't want you to bring all your friends. I am alone."

"Alone with a head full of tricks and a forty-five revolver under your armpit," Beuzekom said. "I know you, you old jungle nigger. I have never underestimated you. Even without a gun you can tie me into knots."

"I am not a nigger," van Meteren said, and stopped smiling at the telephone. "I am a Papuan."

"Worse," Beuzekom said. "I just read a book about you guys. You decorate your huts with the skulls of your enemies."

"I don't want your skull," van Meteren said. "Are you coming or aren't you coming?"

"Can I bring little Ringma?"

"Yes."

Beuzekom breathed deeply.

"Right. We'll come. Right now. Where are you?"

"Haarlemmer Houttuinen number five."

"Are you still living there?"

"No, I moved but I am here now and if you are here within a quarter of an hour the deal is on."

"We'll come, Mr. Papuan," Beuzekom said slowly, "but no tricks! If you try, Ringma and I will try to get you. Maybe we'll fail but I swear we'll try."

"I have never given you any reason not to trust me," van Meteren said.

'True. You are a nice man. A friend. We'll be there."

"See you," van Meteren said and rang off.

"He is coming right now," van Meteren said to the chief inspector.

"You look exhausted," the chief inspector said. "Right now? That's too quick, maybe. Where is de Gier?"

Van Meteren looked out of the window and made a sign.

De Gier and the three detectives came into the bar.

"O.K.," the chief inspector said. "I'll take Hector into the street for a little walk. De Gier takes his old position in the bushes and his two colleagues go with him. No. De Gier can go by himself and the other two can hide behind some of those parked cars. We should be able to get at our friends from as many directions as possible. Beuzekom is dangerous and Ringma probably too, and they'll be armed. They won't cry like de Kater."

'They can be as dangerous as they like," the young burly detective who could climb gables said. "It saves money, now I don't have to go to the pictures."

"Yes, yes," said the chief inspector. "Grijpstra, take Tarzan here to the courtyard and restrain him. He'll be yelling and prancing around in a minute. We don't want an adventure, we only want an arrest. Van Meteren stays here."

"Yes sir," everybody said.

De Gier was back in the bushes. The same branch was scratching his neck and the dog turds smelted worse than before for he had walked right through them this time. He was muttering to himself again but he was smiling as well. Like Tarzan, he was enjoying himself.

"I hope he attacks me," he thought. "I'll trip him up and break his nose. That beautiful nose in the handsome face." He saw the arrogance on Beuzekom's face again. "He can bleed a little this time."

He was watching the road now. There had been an accident somewhere and the traffic was thick and slow. He couldn't see the other side of the street.

"But I'll only go for him if he provokes me," de Gier was saying to himself.

The traffic was moving now. He saw the chief inspector. Hector had seen a cat and was barking and the chief inspector was trying to shut him up.

"There they are," de Gier thought.

Beuzekom drove his Mercedes bus onto the pavement. The two dealers walked to the front door and rang the bell. The door opened straight away. Beuzekom, like de Kater, was carrying a suitcase.

Ringma was looking around him.

Van Meteren made an inviting gesture and Ringma followed his friend.

Three minutes passed before de Gier heard the shot. He leaped through the fence and ran across the street. A city bus, trying to avoid him, pulled over and nearly hit a car coming from the other direction. Both cars were sounding their horns but de Gier didn't hear them. Together with the two other detectives he kicked the door, which swung open, squeaking on one hinge.

Ringma was in the corridor, leaning against the wall. There was a pistol in his hand but it pointed at the floor. One of the detectives tapped Ringma's wrist and the pistol fell and was caught by the detective's hand. Beuzekom was on the floor, groaning and holding his hands between his legs.

"The bastard. He kicked me in the balls. I never thought he would. He was smiling at me when he did, smiling and talking."

"Where is the heroin?" Grijpstra asked.

"Here," Beuzekom groaned, "in the suitcase. He gave it to me. It came from the Buddha over there and when I had it all and he had the money he kicked me."

They went through his pockets and de Gier took his pistol.

"Where is van Meteren?" the chief inspector asked.

Ringma, whose hands had been handcuffed, pointed with his head.

"Through there, that door on the side."

"No," the chief inspector said.