‘I know. It just slipped his memory.’
‘I have a lot on my mind,’ van Effen said. ‘Well?’
‘We had a good look at them when they left the house to go to that small
bus. Also had a good look at them in the Dam Square. Recognize them
anywhere.’ George paused reflectively. ‘Seemed a very harmless bunch to
ine.’
‘Ever seen – or seen pictures of – the youthful assassins that made -up the
Baader-Meinhof gang? All they lacked were harps and haloes. When I said
“Well”, that wasn’t what I meant.’
‘Ah! That. Yes. Well.’George seemed slightly embarrassed. ‘When you left
the house – we saw you go but didn’t approach you as you’d asked us not to
in case you were being followed -you know you were followed?’
‘Yes.’
‘We waited across the street for ten minutes then crossed to the lighted
window. The rain! Talk about standing under Niagara Falls.’ He waited for
sympathetic comment and when none came went on: ‘Waited another ten
minutes. We could hear music and conversation.’
‘I’ll bet you could. So then, overcome by the rain, impatience or
suspicion, you moved in. Light still on. Long-playing cassette on a
recorder. Birds flown by the back door. Hardly original. So we still don’t
know where they’re holed up. Not your fault – Agnelli’s obsessed by
security.’
‘Still could have done better,’ Vasco said. ‘Next time
The phone bell shrilled and de Graaf picked it up, listened for some time,
said ‘Wait a minute, sit’ and cupped the mouthpiece. ‘Predictable, I
suppose. Dessens. Seems the cabinet is a bit shaken about the palace
explosion and are convinced that the Oostlijk-Flevoland dyke will go up at
midnight. So they’re going to parley. They want me along and suggested i i
p.m. I’d like you to be there. i i p.m.?’
‘Eleven-thirty possible sir? I have a couple of appointments.’
De Graaf talked some more then hung up. ‘You do seem to
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have a very crowded appointment book, Lieutenant. I can’t recall your
mentioning any of this to me.’
‘I haven’t had a chance to. I have to be at the Trianon at ten o’clock to
take a call from Agnelli. He’s a bit short of explosives and I’ve promised
to supply him with some.’
‘Explosives. Of course. Naturally.’ De Graaf hardly spilled a drop as he
poured himself a brandy. ‘Having already blown up the palace’ – it was an
exaggeration but a pardonable one in the circumstances – ‘one could not
expect you to rest on such trifling laurels. And where do you intend to
find this explosive? I’m sure you won’t be wanting more than a few hundred
kilos of TNT or whatever ii is.’
‘Me? Haven’t the time. Haven’t the authority, either. But I thought,
perhaps, sir, if you would care to use your influence -‘
‘Me! The chief of police? To supply illegally-come-by explosives to a group
of terrorists?’ De Graaf considered. ‘I suppose you would expect me to
deliver it personally?’
‘Good heavens, no. That’s where George comes in. Sorry, George, haven’t had
the chance to explain this or anything. Had a long talk this evening with
Agnelli about you and Vasco. I’m afraid, Vasco, that I’ve blackened your
character beyond all hopes of redemption. You’re a crooked cop, bent as a
horseshoe, untrustworthy, unpredictable and only a couple of steps removed
from a psychiatric ward. Agnelli was just that little bit too casual when
asking questions about you. I’m certain he knows you are or were a cop. He
comes from Utrecht too. Not that that should be any bar to his employing
you – after we’ve made certain delicate alterations to your appearance and
history – in the not-too-distant future.
‘George, you’re an arms dealer. Heaven knows there are enough of those
around, but you’re something special. The king-pin. Mr Big. A Leopard tank?
A sAm missile? Even a motor torpedo boat? George is your man. And being Mr
Big means you’re important. You talk only to principals. No intermediaries,
not even me. Face to face or no deal.’
‘I talk to this Agnelli?’ George smiled widely. ‘You want me on the
inside?’
‘I have a feeling that I could do with a little help, sooner
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rather than later. I’ve no right to ask you, of course. There’s Annelise and
your kids. Things might get a little difficult -‘
‘A little difficult!’ De Graaf could put a nicely sarcastic edge to his
voice when he had a mind to. ‘Difficult. I don’t say it’s crazy because
nothing’s crazy if there’s a chance, but I don’t like it at all. It’s based
on the assumption that they’re not on to you and that’s an unjustifiable
assumption. Sure, they’ve gone along with you so far and you with them, but
that’s only because, so far, it’s suited you both. But if they are on to
you and they decide a time has come when you’re of no further use to them,
then when the time comes to discard you it may be in a pretty permanent
fashion. Have you we right to ask that of George?’
‘I’ve just done that.’
The phone rang again and de Graaf picked it up. ‘Ah. Lieutenant Valken …
Yes, yes.’ De Graaf ‘s face became very still as he listened. ‘Never mind
if you’ve never heard it before. Wait tiU I get a piece of paper and pen.’
De Graaf wrote down a few words, told Valken goodbye and hung up. He
reached for his glass.
Van Effen said: ‘Julie, Annemarie?’
‘Yes. How do you know?’
‘Valken, your face, brandy. Bad?’
‘Bad enough. Phone caU from the brothers. They say the girls are as well as
can be expected which can mean anything or nothing. They also say they’ve
sent a telegram of condolences to Rotterdam.’ He’d picked up the piece of
paper he’d scribbled on. ‘To David Joseph Karlmann Meijer.’
Van Effen sipped his brandy and said nothing. George and Vasco exchanged
glances of incomprehension. At length George said: ‘And who might he be?’
‘I forgot,’ de Graaf said. ‘You don’t know, of course. Anne’s – Annemarie’s
– father.’
‘Yes,’ George said. ‘I mean no. I don’t understand, Colonel. What about
Annemarie?’
De Graaf stared incredulously at van Effen. ‘You mean, you haven’t told
them?’
‘I don’t believe I have.’
‘Good God!’ De Graaf shook his head. ‘The need-to-know
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principle, I suppose. One of those days, Peter, you’re going to forget to
remind yourself of something and that will be the end of you.’ De Graaf
looked from George to Vasco. ‘Annemarie and Julie – Lieutenant van Effen’s
sister – have been kidnapped. The Annecy brothers.’
‘The Annecy brothers.’ George was silent for a moment. ‘Those murderous
fiends. You put two of them away for fifteen years.’
‘Correction. Lieutenant van Effen put them away and the two that escaped
have been threatening to get him ever since. They’ve gone one better.
They’ve got Julie.’
‘I know Julie well. And what’s the significance of this message to
Annemarie’s father?’
‘The significance lies in her father. You will find it hard to believe,
George, but the father of that fearful frump who used to frequent La
Caracha is one of the wealthiest men in the Netherlands. Maybe the
wealthiest. And a very powerful man. He has the ear of the government.
He’s in a position rather similar to Dassault, the plane maker, in
France. There are some areas in which they don’t move without consulting
him at first or, at least, listening to what he says. He has power and
wealth and a daughter and now they have the daughter and may well turn
his power and wealth to their own advantage. Anne Meijer is any
criminal’s dream hostage come true.’
Van Effen put down his glass and looked at his watch. ‘It’s time,
George.’
‘God in heaven! I don’t believe it. You look at your damned watch and say
it’s time to go. Doesn’t it occur to you to wonder how in the hell they
got that information about David Meijer.’
‘Some sort of persuasion, I suppose.’
‘Persuasion! Torture. They tortured the poor girl!’
‘What poor girl?’
‘Are you all right, Lieutenant? Annemarie, of course.’
Ile shake of van Effen’s head was very positive. ‘No. Not Annemarie. The
Annecy brothers – or at least the two we put away – never tortured
without a reason, however twisted that reason might be. The reason was
either revenge or to get
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information. Why should they revenge themselves on Annemarie – what has
she ever done to anyone? And information -what information could they
possibly get from her. They don’t know who she is, who her father is.
Didn’t, rather. As far as they are concerned she’s only a friend of
Julie’s and they took her along for no reason other than the fact that she
happened to be there. If they tortured anybody – and I suspect it was only
a threat of torture, to get information about me – it would have been