Tumbleweed

17

They had coffee, they had lunch, they had more coffee, and then they had some brandy.

"Well," the commissaris said finally, when de Gier, now very relaxed and smiling, had finally stopped talking.

"So you two would have found him anyway."

"Perhaps not," de Gier said.

"Yes, you would have found him."

"No, sir. I am not sure. The siren of the police launch shook him. And it was you who sent the launch, she came to bring your Telex."

"Yes, perhaps."

The commissaris smiled. "I wouldn't have minded if you had found him on your own. The trip to Curacao was a good trip."

"What happened?" de Gier asked.

They had more brandy. The afternoon passed as the commissaris talked.

"But why?" the commissaris asked. "Why think of Drachtsma?"

They were walking toward Buisman's house and the rain had started again. The commissaris had no raincoat and they were walking quickly.

"Let's go into the hotel, sir, we can go later, or telephone. Perhaps we should go tomorrow."

"All right, I'll book into the hotel. Why Drachtsma?"

"He is a powerful man," de Gier said, struggling out of his duffelcoat.

"Yes," the commissaris said.

They sat down in de Gier's room and the commissaris rubbed his legs.

"How are your legs, sir?"

"They hurt again. They didn't hurt in . I'll have a hot bath later."

The commissaris stretched out on the bed that Grijpstra had used.

"IJsbrand Drachtsma is a powerful man."

"Yes," de Gier said, "and Maria van Buren was a powerful woman."

"I see," the commissaris said. "He wanted to own her and she was manipulating him. A conflict of interest. It might be a motive."

"She was a sorcerer, a witch," de Gier said. "You found her master. What was he like?"

"I told you," the commissaris said. "I never found out what he was like. I fell asleep on his porch and I left when I woke up. He was very kind to me."

"Perhaps he was a good sorcerer," de Gier said. "Magic goes both ways, doesn't it."

"Yes. I thought about that too. She was his disciple. She learned from him. She got some power."

"And she used it the other way around."

"All right, all right," the commissaris said. "She put a spell on Drachtsma. The big tycoon, the president of companies, the hero-soldier, the sportsman, the intellectual, the leader. And she had him on a string. So he killed her."

"Yes," de Gier said.

"But he couldn't have," the commissaris said. "He had an alibi. I checked his alibi. I spoke to the German police. The two men who confirmed that they spent that Saturday with him, all day and all evening, are respectable men. Drachtsma was in Schierrnonnikoog when Maria caught the knife in her back."

De Gier lit a cigarette and walked over to die window. "Perhaps Drachtsma learned some sorcery as well," de Gier said.

The commissaris sat up, looking at de Gier's back.

"He used Rammy Scheffer, you mean," he said.

De Gier didn't answer.

"Could be," the commissaris said slowly. "Rammy Scheffer is a mentally disturbed man. He dropped out of the merchant navy. He hates his father. His father didn't marry his mother. And he loved his sister."

"Jehovah," de Gier muttered.

"The Bible," the commissaris said. "Have you read the Bible, de Gier?"

"Yes. At Sunday school. I know some of the Old Testament by heart."

"The Bible is an interesting book," the commissaris said.

De Gier turned around quickly. "A very dangerous book, sir."

"If it is read the wrong way."

"I saw a German army belt once," de Gier said. "Somebody had kept it as a souvenir of the war. It had some words on the clasp, GOTT MIT UNS."

"God with us," the commissaris said.

"The SS soldiers wore those belts too," de Gier said. "They killed six million Jews."

"Yes," the commissaris said slowly. "So Drachtsma played on the feelings of Maria's half brother. He told her that Satan had got into her and had made her his vehicle."

"Hard to prove," de Gier said.

"Impossible to prove. But we could satisfy our curiosity. We could go and see Drachtsma."

"He was talking to you on the quay, wasn't he, sir?"

"Yes," the commissaris said, "and he was very nervous. He kept on talking, I couldn't get a word in edgewise once he got started."

"Was he saying anything?"

"No. He was asking what I thought. If I thought that poor fellow had done it. He said he knew him well and that Rammy is mentally unstable."

"Did you tell him that Rammy Scheffer was Maria van Buren's half brother?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"He said he didn't know."