The G File

5

Police probationer Wagner yawned and looked at his watch: twenty-five to two.

Then he looked at his crossword puzzle. It was unsolved.

Almost totally, at least. He had filled in eight squares. Two words. But he wasn’t sure if either of them was correct.

In order to pass the time he counted up the number of empty squares.

Ninety-four. He could hardly claim that he had made all that much progress. . He wondered for a moment if he ought to go and kip down for a while. You didn’t need to be awake just because you were on call. It was sufficient to be in the right place, and able to answer the phone if anything happened. The instructions in that respect were just as clear and unambiguous as everything else in the police station.

Linzhuisen’s police station, that is. Wagner had been working there for almost a year now, and liked it. He was twenty-five years old, and could well imagine himself being a police officer for the rest of his life. Especially in a little place like this one. Everything was well organized, the pension terms were advantageous, and there was no crime to speak of.

And pleasant colleagues, to boot: Gaardner, his boss, and Willumsen, with whom he often played tennis.

Linzhuisen was not an independent police district, but was a part of Linden, which was run by the chief of police, Chief Inspector Sachs. Linden had slightly more staff: two inspectors and three or four constables and probationers.

But they shared emergency coverage. It was obviously unnecessary to have a probationer or an inspector sitting half asleep throughout the night in both Linden and Linzhuisen — it was only twelve kilometres between the two places, and if a call-out became necessary whoever was on duty would need to summon assistance in any case. Wake up colleagues on stand-by at home, or telephone to Maardam.

As far as Wagner was concerned, this meant he was on emergency duty at the police station four nights per month, and he had no complaints about that.

On the contrary. There was something rather special about these lonely nights that quite appealed to him. Sitting here in the blacked-out police station keeping an eye on law and order while the rest of the world enjoyed its well-deserved sleep. Ready to arrange a call-out as soon as any stricken citizen in need asked for assistance. Indeed, was it not that role that was the most important reason — albeit not the one he talked about most — why he joined the police force four years ago?

Watching over people’s lives and possessions, and being the ultimate guarantee of their safety.

Sometimes when he found himself thinking such thoughts, Probationer Wagner told himself that maybe he ought to write them down. Perhaps they would come in useful for teaching and recruitment purposes. Why not?

And that was probably also why — when all is said and done — he didn’t like to lie down and fall asleep. Mind you, if nothing happened — and there were hardly ever any alarm calls — he would probably give way and have a lie down in the early hours, he knew that. It was almost impossible to keep awake after half past two or so, even with the assistance of all the crossword puzzles in the world.

He chewed his pencil, took a drink of coffee and tried to concentrate.

Four down, seven letters, the second one might be ‘a’: ‘Literary bloodhound in Paris’.

I suppose one ought to read a book now and then, Wagner thought with a sigh.

Checked the time again: a quarter to two.

Then the telephone rang.

Chief Inspector Sachs dreamt that he was a dolphin.

A young, fit and handsome male dolphin swimming around in cool emerald-green seawater surrounded by a whole school of female dolphins. They all rolled and romped around, swam close to one another, made impressive leaps towards the sun over the glittering surface of the water then dived down to the bottom of the seabed. Rubbed breasts and backs and stomachs against one another in an ever more joyful dance.

This is where I always want to be, he thought. I always want to be an elegant male dolphin surrounded by randy females.

The sound of the telephone cut through the marrow of his spine and his cerebral cortex like the blade of a saw. He picked up the receiver without even opening his eyes.

‘Sachs.’

‘Chief Inspector Sachs?’

‘Hmm.’

‘Wagner here.’

‘Who?’

‘Probationer Wagner in Linzhuisen. I’m on emergency duty and have just received a-’

‘What time is it?’

‘Seven minutes to two. I’ve just had a phone call — at 01.45 to be exact — about a dead woman.’

Sachs opened his eyes. Then closed them again.

‘And?’

‘It was a man. Who rang, that is. And his wife is dead. . Hennan, that’s his name. . Jaan G. Hennan. They live in Linden, and so I thought-’

‘Hang on a minute. I’ll go to the other phone.’

Sachs stood up and tiptoed out to his study. Picked up the receiver of the telephone on his desk.

‘Go on.’

‘Well, I’ll ring the medics and the rest of them, but I thought I ought to inform the chief inspector first.’

‘Good. But what exactly has happened? Try to calm down a little bit, if you can.’

Wagner cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

‘Her name’s Barbara Hennan. They live in Kammerweg — that’s some way away from the centre of town. .’

‘Linden, you said?’

‘Yes.’

‘I know where that is.’

‘Of course. Anyway, this man, Jaan G. Hennan, had evidently come home pretty late — at about half past one — and found his wife in the pool.’

‘The swimming pool?’

‘Yes.’

‘Drowned?’

‘No, on the contrary.’

‘On the contrary? What the hell do you mean by that?’

‘She was lying. . She was lying on the bottom, he said. .’

‘Without having drowned?’

‘Yes. There is no water in the pool, it seems.’

Sachs was staring straight ahead, and found himself looking at the framed photograph of his children, which was hanging on the wall over the desk. They were twins, but apart from the fact that their skin was the same colour and they had the same parents, they were as different as two people can possibly be.

‘No water?’

‘No, that’s what he said. She’s lying at the bottom of the pool, he says she must have fallen in and killed herself.’

Sachs thought for a moment.

‘All right. What instructions did you give him?’

‘That he should stay at home and wait for us to come.’

‘Is there any reason to suspect foul play?’

‘Well. . Not as far as I know, but I thought it was best to-’

‘Yes, of course. Did you get any more information out of him? What did he sound like?’

‘A bit drunk, I think.’

‘Really? How drunk?’

‘I don’t know. It’s hard to say- but pretty drunk, I think.’

Sachs sighed.

‘So in fact it could be a hoax? Somebody having us on? In theory, at least.’

‘In theory, yes. But that’s not the conclusion I reached. And in any case, I suppose we have to-’

‘Yes, of course. Of course. What was the address, did you say?’

‘Kammerweg 4. And his name is Hennan, as I said.’

Sachs managed to find a pencil and noted it down.

‘I’ll see you there in about ten minutes,’ he said. ‘If you arrive before I do, don’t go in until I get there. Ring the doctor, but we’ll wait with the rest until we’ve been able to check up on the situation. Is that clear?’

‘Everything clear and understood,’ said Wagner.

‘Excellent. Let’s go!’ said Sachs, and hung up.

He went back to the bedroom. When he switched on the bedside lamp in order to be able to find his clothes, his wife, Irene, turned over and muttered something in her sleep. He eyed her briefly.

It’s actually true, he thought. She really does look like a dolphin.

Her face, at least.

He gathered together his clothes, switched off the light and crept out into the kitchen.

Wagner hadn’t yet arrived, but Dr Santander, the forensic medical officer, was already there. As Sachs made his way through the rather overgrown garden, he could see Santander standing next to a little collection of deckchairs at the edge of the swimming pool, talking to a sturdy-looking man in his fifties.

He could see them very clearly even though he was still some distance away, because the whole of the pool area was bathed in light. Several spotlights were attached to trees all the way round, and when the chief inspector emerged from the darkness the doctor gave a start and seemed almost scared. Just for a moment Sachs had the feeling that he had barged in on the set of a film being recorded, and it was not easy to shake off this impression despite the fact that Santander broke into a broad smile as soon as he recognized the newcomer. He introduced Sachs to the broad-shouldered man.

‘Welcome,’ said the latter. ‘My name is Hennan. Jaan G. Hennan. It’s my wife lying down there.’

He pointed with the hand holding a thin, black cigar between his index and long fingers. He was holding a glass in the other one. Sachs went up to the edge and looked down.

At the bottom of the empty and unexpectedly deep pool, a few metres out from one of the narrow ends, was a woman’s body lying on its stomach. She was wearing a red bathing costume, her arms were stretched out at odd angles, and a small pool of blood had spread underneath her head, in stark contrast to the white tiles. Her hair was also reddish, but a somewhat lighter shade. Sachs did not doubt for one second that she was dead, despite the fact that she must have been lying some fifteen to twenty metres away.

‘How do you get down there?’ he asked.

‘There’s a ladder over there.’

Now it was Santander doing the pointing.

‘I’ve had a quick look at her,’ he explained, adjusting his heavy, horn-rimmed spectacles. ‘It seems to be as Hennan says: she must have fallen down and. . well, died instantly.’

Sachs alternated his gaze between the doctor and Hennan several times. Hennan put down his glass.

‘What time was it when you found her?’ Sachs asked.

Hennan checked his gold wristwatch.

‘Just over an hour ago,’ he said. ‘I came home and couldn’t find her anywhere, so I went out, and. . well. .’

He thrust out his hands in an uncertain gesture. Turned round and looked down at the body at the bottom of the pool for a moment. Sachs tried to make eye contact with Santander, but the latter had opened his medical bag and was busy taking out various instruments.

‘It’s diabolical,’ said Hennan, taking a puff of his cigar. ‘Absolutely bloody diabolical.’

Sachs nodded and tried to form an opinion of him. He was obviously drunk, but at the same time he kept himself detached and under control in a way that seemed almost absurd in the circumstances — as if they were talking about a sick dog or something of the sort, rather than a dead wife. He was wearing light-coloured cotton trousers and a short-sleeved blue shirt hanging down over his waistband. And bare-footed — Sachs assumed he had taken off his shoes and socks before beginning to look for his wife.

Suntanned and trim. Dark, short-cropped hair with a touch of grey here and there, but not at all receding. A powerful-looking face with a wide mouth and very deep-set eyes.

‘How do you feel?’

Hennan seemed to weigh up various alternative answers before actually speaking.

‘I don’t really know,’ he said. ‘I suppose I’m not completely sober, unfortunately.’

Sachs nodded.

‘But I assume you must have had quite a shock. . Of some kind.’

‘The reaction usually comes later,’ said the doctor. ‘It often takes quite a while.’

‘Obviously I need to have a detailed discussion with you about what has happened,’ said Sachs. ‘But I suggest we wait until my colleague arrives — he should be here at any moment.’

‘Why do you need-?’ began Hennan, but Sachs interrupted him.

‘It looks like an accident, of course. But we can’t exclude the possibility of something else.’

‘Something else?’ said Hennan, but the penny seemed to drop immediately. ‘You mean. .?’

‘Exactly,’ said Sachs. ‘One never knows. Ah, here comes my colleague.’

Wagner emerged out of the darkness and greeted everybody present. Sachs noted that his uniform looked as if it had come from the tailor’s a mere ten minutes ago.

‘I’ve rung for assistance from Maardam,’ said Santander. ‘But you might like to go down and take a look before they get here?’

Sachs thought for a moment.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ll wait. But take Wagner down with you, and I can have a chat with Hennan in the meantime.’

If there is any reason to suspect foul play, he thought, it will be the Maardam CID who take charge of things anyway. And his young eyes are better than my old ones.

The doctor and the probationer went off towards the ladder at the far end of the pool. Sachs gestured towards the deckchairs. Hennan nodded somewhat nonchalantly, and they sat down. Sachs took out his notebook.

‘I’m going to ask you a few questions,’ he said. ‘It’s pure routine. We have to proceed in this way, so don’t take it personally,’

‘I understand,’ said Hennan, relighting his cigar that had gone out.

‘Your full name?’

‘Jaan Genser Hennan.’

‘And your wife’s name?’

‘Barbara Clarissa Hennan.’

‘Her maiden name?’

‘Delgado.’

‘Age?’

‘She. . She was due to celebrate her thirty-fifth birthday in August.’

‘A little younger than you, then?’

‘Fifteen years. What does that have to do with it?’

Sachs shrugged.

‘Nothing, presumably. And you live here?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Children?’

‘No.’

‘A nice place. How long have you been living here?’

Hennan puffed at his cigar and fingered his glass without picking it up.

‘We just rent it. My wife is. . was. . American. We lived in Denver for many years, but we moved here last spring.’

‘You come from here, I gather?’

‘I was born and grew up in Maardam.’

‘I see. What is your work?’

‘I run an import firm.’

‘Where?’

‘Here in Linden. It’s just a little office at Aldemarckt so far.’

‘What do you import?’

‘Various things. Stuff that pays well — mainly electronic products from south-east Asia. Components for music systems, pocket calculators and things like that.’

Sachs nodded and decided that would do for background notes.

‘Tell me what happened this evening,’ he said.

Hennan crossed his legs, and seemed to hesitate.

‘There isn’t much to tell,’ he said. ‘As I said, I came home and found her down there. .’

‘Did you go down to check that she was dead before you rang the police?’

‘Yes, of course. I even took her pulse, although it was obvious that there was no hope. She was ice-cold.’

‘Has the doctor said how long she might have been lying there?’

Hennan nodded.

‘Several hours,’ he said.

‘And what do you think happened?’

Hennan raised his eyebrows and stared at the chief inspector for a few seconds.

‘Surely it’s obvious. She fell down. . Or maybe dived.’

‘Dived? Are you saying she might have taken her own life? Why do you think-’

‘I’m not saying that at all!’ interrupted Hennan indignantly. ‘Think what you’re saying, damn you! My wife is lying dead down there, and I don’t want to listen to a lot of crap about her possibly having jumped down intentionally. . That’s out of the question. Completely out of the question, do you hear that?’

‘I hear that,’ said Sachs. ‘But I think it’s a bit odd that she would-’

‘There’s no water in the pool,’ said Hennan angrily. ‘Perhaps you’ve noticed that?’

Sachs wrapped his hands round his right knee and paused.

‘What are you trying to say?’ he asked.

‘That she forgot, of course.’

‘Forgot what?’

‘That I’d had the pool emptied earlier today.’

‘Really?’

‘“Really?” What the devil do you mean by that?’

‘You had the pool emptied, you say. Why?’

Hennan snorted and shook his head melodramatically to underline the chief inspector’s ignorance.

‘Because you have to do that occasionally. There are a few repairs that need doing — some tradesmen are coming to see to it tomorrow. Today, rather. .’

He looked at his watch. So did Sachs.

Ten minutes to three.

‘So you drained all the water out of the pool. Your wife forgot that it was empty, and dived in. Is that what you think happened?’

‘How else could it have happened, for Christ’s sake?’

Sachs waited for a few seconds, trying to judge the probability of Hennan’s theory.

‘Somebody might have pushed her,’ he said eventually. ‘You, for instance.’

Hennan’s face turned a few shades darker.

‘What a lot of crap,’ he said. ‘I’ve been in Linden since this morning.’

‘In your office?’

‘Yes. I sorted out the emptying of the pool first — that takes a few hours. I was in my office soon after eleven, if I remember rightly.’

‘And your wife?’

‘She drove to Aarlach early this morning. She was going to look for some porcelain statuettes — we collect them. She thought she might be able to find a few bargains at Hendermaag’s.’

‘Hendermaag’s?’ said Sachs, who was not exactly well up in porcelain statuettes.

‘Yes. I’m starting to get a bit pissed off by all this, Chief Inspector. I come home and find my wife dead, and when I call in the police you start interrogating me as if. .’

‘As if what?’

‘As if I were a suspect, somehow or other. I’ve never had much confidence in the forces of law and order, I’ll admit that: but this exceeds my-’

‘Come on, now,’ said Sachs, interrupting him. ‘Don’t take it like that. I said at the start that it’s just routine. I only have a few more questions, and then I’ll leave you in peace. What were you yourself doing earlier this evening?’

Hennan underlined his objections by saying nothing and smoking for quite some time before answering. Sachs observed him patiently and bided his time.

‘As I’ve already said, I went out for a meal when I’d finished for the day. We’d agreed on that- my wife didn’t know what time she would get back from Aarlach, but there was no way she’d be back early enough to prepare an evening meal.’

‘Were you in touch with her during the day?’

‘No.’

‘Or during the evening?’

Hennan shook his head.

‘Not at all?’

‘No. I rang home in the late afternoon, but there was no reply.’

‘What time was that?’

‘Five o’clock or half past, I’d guess.’

‘So you don’t know what time your wife got back from this outing to Aarlach?’

‘No idea,’ said Hennan, emptying his glass. ‘Not the slightest bloody idea.’

Sachs decided to try a different line.

‘It’s an unusually big swimming pool,’ he said.

Hennan nodded vaguely and muttered something.

‘And deep. I don’t think it’s usual to have diving towers either, is it?’

‘That’s down to the bloke who built the bloody thing,’ said Hennan.

‘What do you mean by that?’

‘The bloke who owns the house. His wife was a diver. He gave her this damned pool — and the diving tower — as a wedding present. My wife. .’

‘Go on.’

‘My wife also enjoyed diving. Do you know how far it is from the top of the tower down to the bottom of the pool?’

Sachs shook his head, and felt a sudden shooting pain down his spine when he looked up at the dazzlingly white concrete construction.

‘Fourteen metres. Ten plus four. Fourteen metres, do you understand that? No wonder she bloody well killed herself.’

Sachs closed his notebook and sat upright.

He’s right, he thought. No wonder she bloody well killed herself.

They could hear footsteps approaching from the darkness of the garden but the chief inspector had time for one more question before the team from Maardam appeared.

‘But why didn’t she see?’ he asked. ‘Why didn’t she see there was no water in there?’

Hennan seemed to wonder whether he ought to answer or not.

‘It must have been dark,’ he said. ‘It was me who switched on the spotlights when I started looking for her. I think she was a bit drunk as well.’

‘What makes you think that?’

‘Because that idiot of a doctor says so. Anyway, enough is enough now, for Christ’s sake.’

‘All right,’ said Sachs. ‘Thank you for your cooperation.’

He stood up in order to welcome the pathologist Meusse, whom he’d known since he was about ten years old without ever really being able to understand the man. But he gathered that he was by no means alone in that.

‘Good evening,’ he said.

‘Good morning,’ said Meusse. ‘Where’s the body?’

‘My wife is lying at the bottom of the swimming pool,’ said Hennan, who also stood up. ‘Is this going to be a bloody full-scale invasion? I’m off to bed now.’

Meusse observed him with interest for a few seconds, over the top of his spectacles.

‘Do that,’ he said, stroking his hand over his bald head. ‘Sleep well.’