If Tomorrow Comes by Sidney Sheldon

Inspector Joop van Duren was a giant of a man, larger than life, with a beefy face adorned by a flowing mustache, and a roaring basso voice. He was addressing Toon Willems, the neat, crisp, efficient chief commissioner, head of the city’s police force.

“Tracy Whitney arrived in Amsterdam this morning, Chief Commissioner. Interpol is certain she was responsible for the De Beers hijacking. Mr. Cooper, here, feels she has come to Holland to commit another felony.”

Chief Commissioner Willems turned to Cooper. “Do you have any proof of this, Mr. Cooper?”

Daniel Cooper did not need proof. He knew Tracy Whitney, body and soul. Of course she was here to carry out a crime, something outrageous, something beyond the scope of their tiny imaginations. He forced himself to remain calm.

“No proof. That’s why she must be caught red-handed.”

“And just how do you propose that we do that?”

“By not letting the woman out of our sight.”

The use of the pronoun our disturbed the chief commissioner. He had spoken with Inspector Trignant in Paris about Cooper. He’s obnoxious, but he knows what he’s about. If we had listened to him, we would have caught the Whitney woman red-handed. It was the same phrase Cooper had just used.

Toon Willems made his decision, and it was based partly on the well-publicized failure of the French police to apprehend the hijackers of the De Beers diamonds. Where the French police had failed, the Dutch police would succeed.

“Very well,” the chief commissioner said. “If the lady has come to Holland to test the efficiency of our police force, we shall accommodate her.” He turned to Inspector van Duren. “Take whatever measures you think necessary.”

The city of Amsterdam is divided into six police districts, with each district responsible for its own territory. On orders from Inspector Joop van Duren, the boundaries were ignored, and detectives from different districts were assigned to surveillance teams. “I want her watched twenty-four hours a day. Don’t let her out of your sight.”

Inspector van Duren turned to Daniel Cooper. “Well, Mr. Cooper, are you satisfied?”

“Not until we have her.”

“We will,” the inspector assured him. “You see, Mr. Cooper, we pride ourselves on having the best police force in the world.”

Amsterdam is a tourist’s paradise, a city of windmills and dams and row upon row of gabled houses leaning crazily against one another along a network of tree-lined canals filled with houseboats decorated by boxes of geraniums and plants, and laundry flying in the breeze. The Dutch were the friendliest people Tracy had ever met.

“They all seem so happy,” Tracy said.

“Remember, they’re the original flower people. Tulips.”

Tracy laughed and took Jeff’s arm. She felt such joy in being with him. He’s so wonderful. And Jeff was looking at her and thinking, I’m the luckiest fellow in the world.

Tracy and Jeff did all the usual sightseeing things tourists do. They strolled along Albert Cuyp Straat, the open-air market that stretches block after block and is filled with stands of antiques, fruits and vegetables, flowers, and clothing, and wandered through Dam Square, where young people gathered to listen to itinerant singers and punk bands. They visited Volendam, the old picturesque fishing village on the Zuider Zee, and Madurodam, Holland in miniature. As they drove past the bustling Schiphol Airport, Jeff said, “Not long ago, all that land the airport stands on was the North Sea. Schiphol means ‘cemetery of ships.’ ”

Tracy nestled closer to him. “I’m impressed. It’s nice to be in love with such a smart fellow.”

“You ain’t heard nothin’ yet. Twenty-five percent of the Netherlands is reclaimed land. The whole country is sixteen feet below sea level.”

“Sounds scary.”

“Not to worry. We’re perfectly safe as long as that little kid keeps his finger in the dyke.”

Everywhere Tracy and Jeff went, they were followed by the Gemeetepolitie, and each evening Daniel Cooper studied the written reports submitted to Inspector van Duren. There was nothing unusual in them, but Cooper’s suspicions were not allayed. She’s up to something, he told himself, something big. I wonder if she knows she’s being followed? I wonder if she knows I’m going to destroy her?

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *